Page 27 of Not Safe for Work
Not softly, not hesitantly—firm and fast, back and forth and back and forth until she was gasping. Bursting. Until she started creaming all over that perfect, chiseled face, unable to stop and unable to care.
She wanted him to be a mess. Just the thought of it sent her spiraling. It made her jerk and push herself against his working mouth, one hand going to the back of his head so she could make it worse. And Abel only encouraged her.
“Oh yeah, cover him in your come,” he purred into her ear. “Make him taste you, make him feel it all over him, my little slut.”
It barely took her another thirty seconds to obey.
Hartford found the underside of her clit with his tongue, and that was it. Great wrenching spasms of pleasure burst through her, hard enough that she actually couldn’t stay on her feet. She couldn’t even keep contact with his mouth—though it didn’t matter. She was still shuddering and groaning when she sank to the floor. Her orgasm just kept on and on until she was boneless, mindless, and unable to do anything but lie there.
Though that didn’t stop either of them.
They joined her almost immediately, like starving men falling on a feast. Mouths fell on every too-sensitive part of her, hands explored every groove and swell. One of them was at her breast as the other found her swollen pussy, licking and kissing when she could take it, whispering words against her skin when she couldn’t.
“She’s more beautiful than I could have possibly imagined,” Tom said while Abel moaned over the way she gave themselves to them, the way her legs parted without a word, how she accepted their love like it wasn’t a strange thing at all.
Though the truth was, it never felt strange.
Not even to Hartford—to Tom—who seemed to have forgotten every reservation he might have once expressed. In fact, it was him who divested himself of his clothes first. And he didn’t stop to fold them, or check that they weren’t about to get dirty. He just tossed them over his shoulder, and once they were gone he didn’t hesitate.
He pressed his bare body to hers, as if he’d been waiting years to feel her against him. Hell, maybe he had. Maybe this was all he had ever thought about, during every meeting: his skin pressed to her skin. Her breasts against his chest. Her arms around him.
Abel’s hand on his surprisingly heavy and deliciously curved cock, rolling on the condom so he could take her.
Though she didn’t think he’d really do it just like that. She imagined Hartford asking for further permission, from both of them. Something like Is it okay if I do this now? in deference to the fact that they were two and he was still one. But when it came to it, he barely said a word. He just let Abel guide him into her wet and waiting pussy, as if he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that they weren’t two and one at all.
They were a perfect three, moving together in harmony.
When Tom held back—stopping short of a harder thrust or a more intimate touch—Abel urged him on. She urged him on, at first with soft words of pleasure and encouragement, and then with her hands. She wanted to feel the smooth sinewy lines of his body—so different from the heavy, hard solidity of Abel’s, and yet just as gorgeous in its own way. He had great knots of bone for shoulders instead of muscular curves, and a high and tight ass rather than one that filled her hands.
But all of it was good. All of it made her shiver and moan, her hands constantly searching for more. And not just of him. More of this, too. She needed him deeper, she needed him faster—and she wasn’t the only one who knew it.
Abel did, too.
It was Abel who eventually pushed Tom into going harder, though Amy couldn’t quite tell how he’d done it. All she knew for sure was Tom above her, suddenly rutting into her far more wildly. His hips were practically churning, that curve to his cock hitting just the right places over and over and over until she was almost sobbing because of it.
She was going to come again, and soon.
Though it wasn’t the feel of him fucking her that did it.
It wasn’t even his expression: Utterly lost to pleasure, eyes closed and lips parted, cheeks flushed with pleasure so extreme he couldn’t even stop himself moaning.
No, it was Abel that really sent her there.
Or more specifically, it was what Abel had done to get Tom to give in.
He was licking between the cheeks of Tom’s ass.
And not just licking, either.
He was using his fingers.
He was . . . she suspected he had actually penetrated Tom, in between licks and hot presses of his mouth. And it was this that sent her over. It was the sight of Abel over Tom’s shoulder, bending to lick and suck and then using that wetness to ease the way. All the muscles in his arm tensed as he fucked into Tom with his fingers—so insistently, so firmly that she couldn’t have held onto her orgasm if she had tried.
And she didn’t want to try.
She just gave into that surge of pleasure, body stuttering beneath Tom’s, back arching to chase it. Every moan was louder than she had ever let herself be—though of course it didn’t matter. Abel grinned at the sound of it, and Tom . . .
Oh, Tom.
