“No, but you can fuck my ass. Lube and condoms are in the nightstand.”
Wyatt reaches for the nightstand without hesitation.
He’s already rubbing a thumb against her rear opening, pressing into her a little at a time. With every deeper penetration, Nina hums around my cock.
“Are you ready for me,” he says in a low voice, one hand gripping her ass and the other holding his cock.
She makes a muffled affirmative around me and nods, but her ass tilting toward him is enough to know she’s ready.
I watch his face as he slowly pushes in, the way his eyelids flutter closed with the pleasure I can only imagine rivals that of her lips wrapped around me. The sight of his cock disappearing into her ass is so fucking hot that the fact she’s stopped sucking me briefly doesn’t matter. She still strokes my cock, but has her cheek pressed to my thigh and breathes heavily.
“Am I hurting you?” Wyatt asks, pausing and reaching over to brush her hair off her cheek.
“Only a little, but… it’s so fucking good. Don’t stop.”
“I couldn’t if I wanted to,” he says. “Let me see you swallow his dick, then I’m going to fuck this tight, gorgeous ass.”
My eyebrows shoot up at the uncharacteristically dirty words he just uttered. But she obeys with such gusto that my hips jack up at the solid long suck she gives me then.
“Jesus!” I curl my fingers tighter against her scalp, not sure if I want to push her down or beg for mercy.
Then he’s buried to the hilt inside her, one hand gripping her hip, the other squeezing one ass cheek as he begins to fuck with slow, even strokes. She moans and rocks into him but somehow manages to maintain a steady rhythm on my cock.
It only takes a moment of this—of seeing her come undone with Wyatt’s cock in her ass, one hand reaching around to toy with her clit, and her desperate sucking of my cock—before I lose it.
“I’m going to … FUCK!” My half-warning only makes her double down. A second later I come so hard I see stars.
It isn’t until I’m coming down that I notice I have both hands tangled in her hair, holding her head tight as she still gently sucks me. The second I release her, she releases me with a raspy moan. She presses her cheek to my hip again, her eyes feverish and unfocused when they meet mine. She reaches one hand out to me and I thread my fingers through hers, becoming her anchor as Wyatt fucks her with a punishing rhythm.
As if I wasn’t already surprised enough by his dirty talk, he does one better, lifting a hand and dropping it again with a loud smack against her ass.
Nina’s cry is both surprise and pleasure.
“That’s right, take this cock, take it deep. Let me feel you come, baby.” SMACK.
The sound she makes next is half pleasure, half dying animal and it almost makes me fully hard again. Her eyes roll back in her head and she bites down on the muscle above my hipbone hard enough to hurt. She moans and shudders all the way through her climax. Only halfway through do I hear Wyatt’s soft grunt and look up to see his mouth fall open and his hips jack into her one last time as he comes too.
They go still a moment later, no sound but heavy breathing. I bask in this aftermath with them, simply enjoying how Nina remains draped across me, limp. Wyatt pulls out of her, careful to hold onto the condom, disappears into the bathroom and returns, wiping himself with a towel and handing me another. He collapses onto the bed beside me, one leg still draped off the edge of the bed to avoid dislodging Nina from her haphazard spot curled cross-wise between us.
None of us speak, but I keep hold of her hand, thumb brushing over her knuckles. Wyatt rests a hand on the swell of her hip as if he can’t stop touching her either.
The moment is shattered by the vibration of a phone. My phone. I close my eyes, regretting for the first time in ages that something might compel me to leave.
29
Wyatt
Chris’s phone buzzes against the nightstand, cutting through the post-sex stillness. We’re still catching our breath, limbs tangled, Nina’s head on Chris’s chest while I trace patterns on her hip. My face is pressed into her neck and I’m just breathing her in as if I can’t get enough of her scent.
Chris reaches for the phone. His expression shifts instantly—the soft contentment vanishing, replaced by sharp focus. Mission mode.
“I have to go.” He’s already sitting up, easing Nina aside gently. “Tatiana made contact. She’s got intel.”
I start to sit up too—we came in his car—but he shakes his head.
“Stay.” He pulls on his boxers, then his jeans. “Both of you.”
He pauses with his shirt halfway over his head, and I catch the flicker of something behind his eyes—not reluctance to leave, but the need to make sure leaving doesn’t break what we just built.
