It was a weapon

He was fully erect. His cock, which had felt impossibly large inside her blind darkness, now looked like a obscene work of art in the lamplight. It was long, thick, a deep, dark brown that was almost black against his lean hips. The head was a smoother, plum-colored dome, beading with fresh pre-cum. Veins stood out along the shaft, a roadmap of his arousal. It was a weapon, a tool, a gift. And it was hers in a way it wasn’t fully Quivina’s.

The knowledge, the taboo of it, crashed over her with the force of Quivina’s sucking. Her orgasm began to coil, a tight, hot spring in her belly.

“Come for her, Osa,” Adunbi commanded softly, his hand wrapping around his own girth, giving himself a slow stroke. “Let your sister-in-law see how beautiful you are when you fall apart.”

That was all it took. The word sister—a title of blood and now of this shared, secret flesh—pushed her over the edge.

Her climax wasn’t a scream this time. It was a deep, guttural groan that started in her toes and rushed upward. Her body bowed, every muscle locking. Her cunt clamped down violently on Quivina’s fingers, rhythmic, milking pulses. Her clit throbbed against Quivina’s tongue, sending jolt after electric jolt through her system. She felt herself gush, a hot rush of fluid that wasn’t urine, coating Quivina’s chin.

Quivina moaned into her, drinking it all, her fingers working inside her, extending the pulses until they subsided into weak, helpless tremors