“Readying you,” Oliver whispered back. “So you can have me.”
Ezra laughed and nuzzled Oliver’s neck gently. “I think you can feel I’m very ready as it is.”
Anna looked at it was, indeed, true. Ezra was hard as steel already. But Oliver kept stroking, focusing his attention on that action, rather than on the hand that still fought to pleasure him.
Ezra let out a little sigh and glanced at Anna. “Do you remember the oil?”
She tried to focus on the question and jerked out a nod. “In…in the bedside table?”
He smiled. “Yes. Bring it to me. And undress.”
He was undeniable, as always. She did as she was told without question, bringing him the bottle of oil and stripping before she stepped back to her place before them so she could watch. So she could see every moment of what would happen next as Ezra got ready to fuck Oliver’s arse the same way both men had taken turns claiming hers over the past few days.
“Stand in front of him,” Ezra ordered, and Oliver eased away from the edge of the bed to give her a space. She lifted up and wrapped her arms around him, kissing him as he bent her over the bed to offer his backside to Ezra.
She sank into the kiss, reveling in it as she always did. It never seemed entirely real, more like something out of a fairytale. A very wicked fairytale, considering that when she pulled away and opened her eyes, it was to see Ezra gently working his fingers between the cheeks of Oliver’s backside.
Oliver moaned and rested his forehead against her shoulder. She held him, smoothing her fingers through his hair. “Isn’t he magical?” she murmured into his ear, nipping the lobe. “So good at that.”
Oliver nodded without lifting his head. “So good,” he repeated, his voice broken.
“Just wait until he takes you,” she whispered, and loved how Oliver’s hands gripped the coverlet, clenching for purchase. “I can’t wait to see it.”
Ezra was pumping his fingers into Oliver now, pressing him wider with one hand even as he stroked his own cock, coating it with oil with the other. “Watch,” he murmured, locking eyes with her.
She nodded and stared as Ezra aligned himself with Oliver. Oliver whimpered as Ezra took him. An inch. Two. Then all of him in a slick slide. When Ezra was fully seated, his hips touching Oliver’s, Oliver shuddered and lifted his head. His mouth was slightly open, his pupils dilated with pleasure, his entire body quivering with it.
Ezra began to grind his hips, slow at first, letting Oliver feel the stretch of him. Anna knew exactly what that felt like, having that big cock inside of her just like that. Feeling the press of his fingers against her hips.
“Does it feel good?” she panted, putting two fingers under Oliver’s chin and lifting so that he looked at her.
“Yes,” he groaned, his tone garbled.
She smiled and then shifted so she could slide her hand down his chest. She caught his cock and stroked. Oliver grunted, swore under his breath, pushed his hand hard against her palm. Then he shook his head and tried to shove her hand away.
She wrinkled her brow. He wanted this. She could see it. He wanted her to make him come while Ezra fucked him, harder now, gasping and moaning at the pleasure of it.
But he wouldn’t let her. And not for the first time, it frustrated her. He would give, oh yes. He would give until she was so satisfied that she couldn’t move. But he never allowed her the pleasure in return. He never gave himself completely.
And she feared, in that heated moment. That he never would.
* * *
Ezra
Although it was hard to focus with Oliver’s tight backside gripping his cock with every stroke, Ezra could see that Anna was frustrated. Aroused, hungry, gorgeous…but frustrated as Oliver refused her.
“I want to make you come,” Anna panted, desperate, needy as she tried to stoke him again. Oliver caught her hand and shook his head.
“No,” he grunted, pushing her back on the bed.
She fell back without a fight. He mumbled something incoherent and pushed her legs open, his body trembling as he stared down at her. Ezra did the same over his shoulders, staring at the slick evidence of Anna’s desire for Oliver, even with another man’s cock buried deep inside of him. He slowed his thrusts behind Oliver, savoring the clench of the other man around him, the building pleasure that zipped through him like a lightning bolt and moved toward a powerful crescendo.
Oliver made a low growl, as close to possessive as the man ever let himself be. He pressed hand on either side of Anna’s hips at the edge of the bed, leaned farther forward and buried his head between her legs.
Anna whimpered, but her frustration remained as plain as her desire. Ezra understood it—hell, he felt it too. Oliver was amazing at giving pleasure, at serving his lovers. But he wouldn’t let them return that pleasure. Some part of him held himself separate. He’d done so when Ezra had him pressed against the door and was stroking him. He’d done so when Anna practically begged him to let her suck him.
As if Oliver could read their mutual thoughts, he began to circle Anna’s clitoris with his tongue and she writhed on the bed. At the same time, he pulsed back against Ezra, gripping him all the tighter with his arse.
