Page 52 of The Perfect Ingredient
“Louis, you’re gonna—fuck—”
“Iwantit. Both of you. Now.”
I feel Hessou’s cock press at the rim, right where Jean’s already buried, and Icryout, no way to bite it back.
There’s barely space. My body screams at the intrusion, at the impossible stretch—like it shouldn’t be happening, yet it is. I sob openly now, fingers clawing into Jean’s chest, thighs trembling as I try to breathe through it. I feel it in my throat. The burn. The fullness. The mess of spit and oil and slick leaking down my crack, down Jean’s shaft, soaking the mattress.
Hessou doesn’t force. He pushes inslowly, letting me feel every inch. My back arches, and Jean groans loud beneath me, his cock twitching inside me, utterly overwhelmed.
“Fuck—fuck!” Jean groans. “It’s too tight I can’t—”
Hessou presses deeper, his breath shuddering, every inch of him sinking in until he’s flush against my back, chest pressed to my spine, arms wrapping around my waist.
He kisses the side of my neck.
“You took us both,mon amour. Like you were made to be full of us.”
I can’t speak. I can barelythink.
All I can do is feel.
Two men inside me. The heat. The fullness. The way they pulse against each other inside me with every twitch of muscle. I’m shaking, covered in sweat, chest heaving, my mouth open and gasping.
Then they start to move.
Jean thrusts upward, only a little, and Hessou pushes deeper at the same time, and thepressureof it makes my vision go white. Their cocks press against each other inside me, and I nearly come right there, untouched.
I’m stretched past reason, my hole pulsing around them, trying to take more, even though there’snothingmore to take.
They start to find a rhythm—push, retreat, slide. My body caught between them like molten sugar, pulled and folded and ruined.
I moan, completelywreckedthe way I wanted.
Hessou kisses the side of my face.
“You’re perfect,” he breathes.
Jean strokes my chest, his voice breaking. “Beyondperfect.”
I ride them both, hips rolling, every motion dragging them against each other, againstme,deeper and deeper, and the world narrows to friction and breath and the scent of oil and sweat andlove.
Jean’s breath stutters where he lies beneath me. His eyes are wide, glazed with heat and awe, his mouth working around silent words as his hands move over my hips like he’s trying to memorize me, as if he hadn’t already touched every inch of my body.
“Fuck,” he gasps. “I canfeelHessou inside you, against me—”
Hessou groans through his teeth, hips flush against my ass, his arms looped around my waist to hold me still. He’s buried at the limits of our madness, the pressure painful and perfect. I can feel every throb of his cock where it presses against Jean’s, both of them straining for space inside me, slick, grinding and hot enough to burn.
I breathe out in a shaky moan.
Hessou’s mouth finds my ear. “You’re doing so well. So beautiful like this.”
Jean groans beneath me as the friction ripples through him, his hands locking onto my hips. Hessou thrusts harder, grinding, pressing Jean deeper. Then again. And again. The pressure inside me spirals and sears, each push of Hessou’scock dragging Jean’s against my walls, and I shudder, helpless, mouth falling open.
I start to move with them.
My hips lift, roll, sink again, each motion drawing them against each other in the tight heat of me. It’s slow, intense,filthy.I plant my hands on Jean’s chest for leverage, riding them both, drawing in the sounds of slick skin and breathless moans filling the room.
Jean’s hips jerk up into me in something that’s not quite a rhythm, but pure desperation and instinct. Hessou’s grip on my waist gets tighter, and he starts thrusting harder. I cry out, drooling on Jean’s chest. My body is shaking, drenched in sweat, muscles twitching under the constant pressure, the stretch, the relentless pleasure.
