Page 194 of Broken Formation
The sound that leaves her is low, deep, full. His jaw clenches.
She pulls him closer, chest against chest, face in his neck. Her hips move once, testing the fit, and Cole’s head drops against her shoulder.
“Fuck,” he breathes, the word ragged.
I shift behind him on the bed, reaching for the lube. Cole looks over his shoulder at me. His pupils are blown wide, and his hand flexes once against the mattress. The muscles in his back are tense, coiled.
“Tell me if you need me to stop,” I say.
“I’ll tell you.”
Maya turns her face from his neck. “And I’ll make sure he does.”
I bend over him and kiss him before I touch him. His mouth opens under mine, hungry and rough, the championship still burning under his skin. Maya watches us from beneath him, her hands on his chest while I take his mouth. His breath catches against mine, then roughens, and I can taste the sharp edge of his want. It matches my own.
When I pull back, Cole’s lips are wet and parted.
I take my time with him.
Lube slicks my fingers. I press slowly, and his body tightens over Maya’s body. He is inside her, held deep, breathing against her throat every time I work him open. I feel the resistance,the hot, clenching muscle, and then the gradual give. His breath hitches, then evens out. Cole rocks into her once, small and helpless, chasing relief before he can stop himself. Maya’s breath catches, and her hands slide up his back, soothing, anchoring.
“That’s it,” I murmur. “Breathe.”
“I am breathing,” Cole says, voice strained.
“No, you’re arguing.”
Maya laughs once, breathless, and rolls up into him. Cole’s answer breaks into a groan.
“There,” she whispers. “That helped.”
“You’re both terrible people,” Cole says, but there’s no heat in it, only a wrecked affection.
“You won a national championship,” I tell him, pressing deeper. “You can take this.”
His eyes lock on mine. “Then give it to me.”
I roll on the condom and position myself behind him. Maya stills completely, watching my face, watching Cole’s. Her hand slides up his chest to his jaw, turning his face toward hers.
“Look at me,” she says.
Cole does.
I press forward.
His whole body locks. Maya holds him from beneath, her palms on his face now, her body going still around him. I hold there, halfway inside, giving him the space to take me, to breathe through the pressure, to decide again. The heat is intense, almost too much, and my own control frays at the edges.
“Still good?” I ask.
Cole’s throat works. “Yes.”
Maya kisses him. “Then take him.”
I push in the rest of the way.
Cole’s body takes both of us at once—Maya around him, me inside him—and the sound that tears out of him is raw enough to punch through my chest. His hands fly to her hips, grippinghard, anchoring himself in her while his body adjusts around me. I feel every inch of him, tight and hot and trembling, and for a second I can’t move, can’t breathe.This.This is what she wanted. This connection, this vulnerability, this complete possession.
I don’t move.
