Chapter Text
“I must admit,” Peter says casually, like he isn’t running his hands over his naked niece’s thigh, “I never would have pegged you as a size queen.”
Cora’s response is lost in a moan as Peter’s hand reaches between her thighs, fingers moving the neck of the glass beer bottle sticking out of her stretched cunt. He hadn’t truly believed she’d be able to take it, maybe the neck of the bottle, but no, she’d spread the lips of her soaked cunt, moaning openly as she’d worked the thick base of the bottle into her.
Peter’s eyes are locked between her thighs where she’s stretched open, breathing in the scent of her arousal. He rotates the bottle, making her arch her back with a broken little gasp. He pulls the bottle back until only an inch or so is inside, before thrusting it back into her. Cora gives a broken little cry, her thighs starting to tremble. There’s a thin sheen of sweat making her tanned skin glisten, her eyes cloudy with need.
“Peter,” she whimpers. Her hands are wrapped around the slats of his headboard where he’d set them, telling her not to move.
Peter hums, moving the bottle quicker within her, cock hardening even more at the obscene wet noises from her open cunt. It’s not just that she can take it, but that she wants to, that she enjoys being spread open like this. It makes his wolf rumble in his chest, wondering how much she’d love his knot.
Cora's rocking with his movements, hands twitching like she's desperate to reach between her thighs. As much as Peter loves watching her like this, wondering what else he could stuff into her greedy cunt, he wants her to come and he doesn't think she will like this.
He pulls the bottle all the way out her, ignoring her indignant huff, eyes on her loose cunt struggling to close. Well, can't have that. He shoves three fingers into her, cock twitching at the slick, easy slide.
"Peter," she hisses, spreading her thighs even wider for him. Her cunt clenches around him as he pushes in his pinky in next to his other digits, four fingers fucking into her loose cunt.
Peter presses his fingers against her g-spot, dragging a guttural moan from her. Her eyes are closed, mouth open with her toned thighs trembling on either side of Peter, so she's not expecting it when he brings his hand down between her thighs, slapping right over her clit.
Cora shrieks, but it's not a noise of pain, not with how she squeeze tight around his fingers, arousal bursting in her scent so strongly he can nearly taste it.
"Again," she says, voice rough.
Peter grins, bringing his hand down again, even harder, slapping over her little cunt, his fingers pressing against her g-spot. Cora comes with a shout, thighs squeezing together around Peter's arm. She's gasping out her pleasure, rippling around the half a fist he has up her cunt.
As soon as her shaking legs fall to the side, freeing Peter's arm, he withdraws from her dripping cunt, hands going to his belt. He needs to see her hanging off his knot.