"Beautiful," he murmurs. And then he's lowering his head, and—
Oh god.
Oh god.
His tongue drags over my hole.
The world whites out. I'm distantly aware of screaming, thrashing, trying to get away and get closer at the same time, but Bane and Zero hold me down, keep me pinned and spread while Atlas licks into me like I'm the best thing he's ever tasted.
"Fuck." Zero's voice is strained. "Fuck, Atlas, listen to him."
Atlas doesn't answer. Just groans against me and pushes his tongue deeper.
He dives deep. Tongue circling my rim, pushing inside, fucking me open with slow, deliberate strokes. I'm sobbing now—actually sobbing, tears streaming down my temples—because it's too much, too good, too wrong, and I can't stop, don't want to stop, want to be dirty, want to be used, want all three of them to take me apart and put me back together.
"Please," I hear myself beg. "Please, please,please—"
"Please what?" Bane's mouth brushes my ear. "Tell us what you need, Max."
"More." The word rips out of me. "I needmore."
Atlas's tongue disappears. Before I can mourn the loss, something else takes its place—a finger, slick and thick, pressing against my entrance.
"Relax." One word. That's all he gives me.
I nod frantically. "Yes. Yes."
He pushes inside.
The world stops.
For one suspended moment, there's nothing—just the stretch, the fullness, the overwhelming rightness of finally,finallyhaving something inside me. Atlas's finger crooks, pressing against a spot I didn't even know existed, and—
I come.
My back arches off the bed so hard I nearly lift completely off the mattress. My mouth opens in a silent scream, every muscle in my body seizing at once. Pleasure rips through me like lightning—white-hot, blinding, obliterating everything in its path.
"Fuck," Zero breathes.
My cock pulses untouched, spurting thick ropes of cum across my stomach, my chest, one streak hitting my chest. I'm shaking, convulsing, completely out of control, and I can't stop—can't do anything except ride the wave as it crashes through me.
"Bane." Atlas's voice cuts through the haze. "Give him something."
I don't understand what that means until Bane's fingers press against my lips. Two of them, sliding into my mouth, pressing down on my tongue. I close around them instinctively, sucking hard, moaning around them as another wave of pleasure crests.
"That's it." Bane's voice is rough. Wrecked. "Just like that."
I suck desperately, grateful for something to ground me, something to focus on besides the overwhelming sensation of Atlas's finger still inside me, still pressing against that spot, dragging out my orgasm until I'm not sure where one wave ends and the next begins.
Zero shifts beside me. I hear him curse under his breath, see him reach down to adjust himself through his jeans—palmpressing against what looks like a painfully hard bulge. "Jesus Christ," he mutters. "He's gonna kill me."
Finally—finally—the pleasure starts to ebb. My body goes limp against the mattress, chest heaving, Bane's fingers still in my mouth, Atlas's finger still buried inside me.
But it's not enough. It's not nearly enough.
The heat is still there. Still burning. If anything, the orgasm has only stoked it higher.
Bane's fingers slip from my mouth, trailing spit across my chin. I gasp for air, lungs burning, body still trembling with aftershocks.
