He fists my hair, tilting my head back until my throat is bared. “Open your mouth.”
I do. My jaw goes slack, lips parting, tongue out, saliva pooling already.
He pushes his cock past my lips, not gently this time, and starts fucking my face with deliberate strokes. His grip on my hair is just this side of painful, sharp tingles spreading across my scalp, and the sting of it only magnifies the pleasure already inflicted on me by Chris’s steady strokes.
“You wanted this?” His voice is rough, barely familiar—a Wyatt I’ve only glimpsed on a few rare occasions. “Wanted me to use your pretty mouth while he fucks you?” He thrusts deeper, making me gag, and doesn’t let up. “Take it, then. Take all of it.”
I moan around him, the vibration making him curse, and behind me Chris groans.
“Jesus, Wyatt. Whatever you’re doing up there, keep doing it. She just clenched so hard I almost came.”
Wyatt gentles his hand in my hair, even as he maintains the rhythm. “You like that? Like being caught between us?”
I can’t answer—my mouth is full—but I moan again, and that seems to be answer enough.
Chris picks up his pace, finally giving me more of what I need. His hips snap forward harder, driving me onto Wyatt’s cock with each thrust. The sound of it is obscene. Wet and slapping.
“That’s it.” Wyatt’s thumb traces my cheekbone, almost tender despite the way he’s fucking my throat. “Take us both. You’re doing so good.”
Behind me, Chris leans forward, drapes himself over my back. His mouth finds my ear.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Both of us at once. Using you. Filling you up.” His hips grind deeper. “I’ve thought about this for days. About how you’d look between us. How you’d sound.”
I whimper around Wyatt’s cock.
“That’s my girl.” Chris slides his hand around my hip, finds my clit, teases until I clench around him on the edge of orgasm.
But he stops abruptly as if sensing I’m about to go over. I whimper around Wyatt’s cock, make an incoherent sound of frustration.
Chris just chuckles. “This is what you asked for, baby. I promise we’re both going to take good care of you but not until after we fill you up until you’re overflowing with us both.”
With that, he fucks me harder, deeper, every stroke keeping me at that razor’s edge but never quite sending me over. He knows full well I need my clit teased to get all the way. A few more strokes and he grunts, squeezes tighter.
I have a brief moment of panic with Wyatt’s cock still down my throat. That incoherent realization that we didn’t use protection. As if sensing my thought, Wyatt eases up, pulls back and crouches again. “You’re safe, Nina,” he says. “You know what that means right? Everything you went through?”
My eyes are wet—tears of absolute pleasure mostly—but I’m too incoherent to reply. He just smiles. “It means we can both make an absolute mess of you and all you need to do is lie there and enjoy it.”
Another grunt behind me and Chris slams in deep, tightens his grip hard, then gasps as his cock spasms inside me. The sensation of skin on skin and the pulse of him letting loose with no barrier between us, nearly does make me come. I shudder hard and reach for Wyatt again. His mouth crashes against mine, every bit as hungry as I am for more.
When we part, his gaze is more wicked than I’ve ever seen.
“My turn,” he growls, then moves to take Chris’s place.
50
Nina
The edging is deliberate. Calculated. Every time I get close, Wyatt changes his angle, slows his pace, denies me. Chris is in front of me now, cock only half hard, but he shoves it down my throat anyway and he hardens within moments of me sucking my own juices off him.
If anything, Wyatt’s fucking is more torturous. He knows how much I enjoy ass play and he uses it to push me closer, fingers teasing, barely penetrating, while he rocks into me deep with his cock. My clit throbs almost painfully by the time I feel him let go. But Chris is fully hard again and they swap once more.
“Please.” I’m begging now, tears pricking at my eyes. “Please, I need?—”
“What do you need?” Wyatt’s voice is gentle, even as he resumes his spot in front of me, cupping my chin and painting my mouth with the tip of his wet cock.
“I need to come. Please let me come.”
“Not yet.” Chris punctuates the words with a hard thrust. “You’re going to wait until we say you can.”
