“You keep telling me.” I reach for him, and he comes willingly.
His touch is different from Enzo’s, playful, teasing. He nips at my lower lip before soothing it with his tongue. His hands roam everywhere, touching and exploring.
“I love how responsive you are.” His fingers trail down my stomach. “How you arch into every touch.”
“I love how you touch me.” I pull him closer. “All of you.”
He positions himself at my entrance, and he enters me in one smooth thrust, and I gasp at the fullness. He’s slightly thicker than Enzo, and the stretch is delicious.
"That's it, take my cock." He pauses, his hand cupping my face. "Tell me if it's too much, Little Genius. Does it feel good?"
"Exquisite." I rock my hips against him. "And I want it harder."
His thrusts become powerful, and he varies the angle until he finds the spot that makes my breath catch.
Ansel’s hand slides into my hair, turning my face toward him. He rolls my nipple between his fingers while Breck moves inside me, and I’m lost in sensation again.
“Do you like having Breck’s dick inside of you?” Ansel asks.
I can’t use my words, so I nod.
“You were made for us,” Enzo says.
“You take us all so perfectly,” Ansel agrees.
Breck’s hand slides between us, and the pulsing between my legs becomes so intense.
“Breck!” I cry out, not knowing if I need him to slow down or speed up.
He moves more slowly but pounds into me deeper, and it’s exactly what I need.
Breck’s grin is pure wickedness. “You’re right there. I can feel it. I want you to soak my cock with your orgasm.”
My body responds to his command. My third orgasm hits hard and fast, and I’m vaguely aware of Breck cursing as he follows me over.
He collapses beside me, breathing hard. “Fucking incredible.”
Ansel positions himself between my legs, already hard again. His hands slide up my thighs.
I reach for him, but he catches my wrists.
He enters me with one deep thrust. The overstimulation from just having three orgasms consumes me. My pussy tingles with sensations that border on too intense.
“Breathe.” His free hand caresses my face. “Just breathe.”
I do, and gradually, the sharp edge softens into something else. Something better.
“Move.” I rock my hips upward. “Ansel, I need you to move.”
He starts slowly, each thrust deliberate and controlled. He releases my wrists, and my hands immediately go to his shoulders, nails digging in.
I meet his eyes. “Harder.”
Something shifts in his expression. “You’re sure?”
I only nod.
His thrusts become powerful, almost rough, and I revel in it.
