Evan’s fingers dig into my hips. I’ll have marks tomorrow.
“She’s squeezing my cock every time you touch her with that ice,” Evan tells Silas.
Silas switches to my other nipple. The ice is melting now, water running down my stomach in rivulets that send fresh shivers through me.
The contrast between the ice and Evan’s heat is maddening. Every nerve ending feels like it’s on fire and frozen at the same time. My brain can’t process both sensations, so everything intensifies—the stretch of Evan’s cock, the bite of cold, and the warmth of Callum’s hand when it lands on my thigh.
“You’re doing so well, Wifey.” Evan kisses my temple. The tenderness tightens my throat. “Taking what Silas gives you while I fill you.”
“Evan’s the sweet one.” Silas drags the ice cube down my stomach. The cold contracts my abs involuntarily. “I’d rather make you scream.”
Callum’s hand tightens on my thigh, fingers digging in possessively. “Look at you, Red. So fucking wet you’re dripping down Evan’s cock. About to fall apart again.”
The ice reaches where Evan and I are joined. Silas circles my clit with it, and the cold radiates through me. I cry out. The cold is shocking, overwhelming, perfect.
“There it is.” Callum’s grin is wicked. “Those pretty sounds when you can’t hold back. When you’re so far gone you don’t even know what you’re saying.”
All of the sensations are too much and not enough. The cold pressure on my clit is intoxicating. Evan’s dick is stretching me. Callum’s grip is rough on my thigh, and Silas’s dark eyes are watching every reaction.
My legs start quivering again, the muscles clenching with each thrust.
“She’s about to come again.” Evan’s panting now, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cold marble and melting ice. “You’re close, aren’t you, Wifey?”
Silas presses the ice directly against my clit. Hard.
I shatter.
The orgasm crashes through me harder than the first. My back arches off the marble, and the sounds I’m making are high and desperate and absolutely wrecked. Evan keeps thrusting through it, each stroke dragging the pleasure out until I’m quivering, oversensitive, almost in tears.
My core pulses around him rhythmically, squeezing his length with each aftershock.
“Fuck, I’m close.” Evan’s rhythm breaks. His thrusts get erratic, desperate. “Wifey, I’m?—”
“I want you to come in me,” I gasp.
Three more drives, and he buries himself deep. His whole body goes rigid, and his cock pulses, hot and perfect. Each spasm triggers another small aftershock in me.
When he withdraws, I’m empty and oversensitive and still wanting more. My pussy clenches around nothing, already missing the fullness.
Silas helps me off the counter. My legs are unsteady, so I grip his forearms to stay upright, and his skin is fever-hot.
“Living room.” Callum is already moving. “Couch.”
Silas is already heading there, too, and I follow on unsteady legs, each step sending residual pleasure sparking through my core.
The sectional is huge, and I sink into the corner. All three of them surround me immediately.
Silas sits beside me, pulling me onto his lap. “My turn.”
He’s still hard. So is Callum. The sight of them both sends a fresh pulse of want through my exhausted body.
“How do you want me?” I ask.
“Just like this.” Silas positions me so I’m straddling him. “Ride me.”
His hands guide me into position, steadying me when I wobble on unsteady legs.
When I sink onto his length, we both groan.
