I know Isaac will be able to taste me in Ben’s mouth, I know that’s not just why they’re doing it and then a hand is between my legs and fingering me, playing with the raised spot a few inches inside and I’m going to come.
They stop the kiss, Ben’s mouth going to my nipple and I realise it’s his fingers that are driving me closer, playing me like an instrument he’s a maestro of.
He backs away making me mewl like a cat for more.
“Isaac needs to stay lying down. Turn over and let him taste you.” Ben’s instruction is brief.
I don’t question it. He helps me move over him, positioning me higher up, my pussy over Isaac’s mouth. Ben guides my hips, then as Isaac’s tongue finds my clit, I feel a finger press into my cunt, bringing my wetness back to my puckered hole and I groan knowing what he’s preparing me for.
Both sets of male hands grip my hips. Both men work me hard, Isaac’s tongue and Ben’s fingers in my pussy and then ass. When I come, I’m almost embarrassed with how wet I become.
Large hands pull me back and down onto Isaac’s cock, his underwear having been lost. Ben moves me up and down, giving me time to adjust and then pushes me forward.
“Tell me now if you want me to stop.”
I shake my head because I think I’ll die if he doesn’t carry on. I feel the head of his cock against my ass, Isaac perfect still, waiting because he knows this first entry will be uncomfortable, almost painful and it is until there’s sweetness and both of my men are inside me.
I lie my breasts on Isaac’s chest, my legs solid and backside raised so that both Isaac and Ben can move but other than that, I’m being fucked into a state where nothing else is, just the resounding pleasure I can take.
I orgasm. It hurts at first, the intensity too much and I’m vaguely aware of Isaac’s words whispering telling me he’s got me, telling me it’s all going to be okay and then I feel a finger against my clit. I’m sure I’m crying.
I’m sure what I’m saying doesn’t make sense, that I’m turning into some form of boneless creature because all I can feel are the two cocks moving inside of me, swelling and stretching and then I hear Isaac groan and feel him come inside me as he pulses, gripping my hips hard enough that it brings me back to earth.
Ben grips my hair as Isaac stills, tipping my face back to him. He looks at me with utter possession and is soundless as he comes, his thighs hard against the back of my legs.
Somehow, I manage not to collapse on Isaac, remembering that he’s technically got a concussion and probably shouldn’t be exerting himself, and I fall to the side instead. Ben lies beside me and both men shift so we’re all touching, stroking.
Living.
Our hearts are beating.
We’re all still alive.
Chapter 20
Isaac
The first time I stepped into the Houses of Parliament I was seventeen and my grandfather was taking me on a tour, showing me the offices he used to work in and what his daily routine looked like. For millions of people, the building was historic, the place where democracy should be at its finest, hundreds of years of political warfare that had shaped the country.
For me, it was where the father who’d abandoned my mother came to work. I refused to let it become anything special.
And it became the place where I wanted to work, to change how things were done so men like my father, who had privilege and excuse from day one didn’t get to run the country for their own means unchallenged.
Today was possibly the day when I took a seat at the helm of parliament and wore the faux crown of the Prime Minister, leading the Government. If I took that role, we’d be calling an election in the next few months so the democrats had the chance to decide if they wanted me in that role.
If.
There’s a room waiting for me at the end of a long corridor, a room which follows on from another and another and another. It’s too early for them to be full yet; those Members of Parliament that are early risers are probably working, some will be travelling from their constituency. Some will still be in bed.
I slip into the room; its huge with a long table carved from mahogany and a green leather insert but I don’t sit down at it. I head to the window and look out over London, over the Thames, its skyline recognisable throughout the world.
Today there will be a change. My opponent didn’t step down. The race to become party leader wasn’t uncontested, which was better than being handed something on a plate, but the polls suggested that party members had elected me.
I’d done something in the years I’d supported William. Something that people saw a future in. The nickname of Kingmaker was being applied to what I’d done for myself by the media, with no mention yet of Blair, but that was only time.
This isn’t what I’d dreamed of. When I’d been an angry kid all I’d wanted was the surf and the sea, the scent of gorse and the feel of the sand under my feet as I ran into the waves. I’d dreamed of being a professional surfer, travelling the globe and then coming home to Cornwall, to my own little cottage with stone floors and a real fire.
Not this life.
