I bite her shoulder. She shudders, butting back into me, and I feel her go boneless. So sensitive, all the nerves right at the surface, begging for anything.
I lick the edge of my teeth marks and then work my way down, tongue along her spine while Marshall’s still worshipping the planes of her legs.
Jesse doesn’t wait anymore. He lowers to the floor, guiding her down until she’s seated on his lap, her back resting against his chest. Goosebumps ripple across her skin at the contact.
He arranges her arms above her head, hands knotted together. It makes her arch so beautifully that I have to bite my lip just to keep from begging for more time, more space, more of her.
Marshall nudges me aside with his shoulder, and then his mouth is on her core, tasting her where she’s tensed and bright with anticipation.
Our girl is the axis we revolve around.
I hear her breathing metastasize into little gasping, wretched noises.
It’s fucking gorgeous.
She squirms, which makes Jesse’s grip tighten.
“You want to move?” he asks. She nods, hair shivering. He kisses behind her ear. “Not yet.”
Marshall spreads her thighs with both hands, forearms settling along the insides of her legs as he leans in again, grounded on his knees. He licks up, slow as a tide, and she whimpers, a sharp little whine.
I nearly lose my shit.
I want to rip Marshall off of her, just to find out how her skin tastes where he’s left his mouth.
But I clamp down on my urges, force myself to watch, to feel the electric build as she keens and shakes, as Jesse holds her and Marshall devours her.
There’s a holiness about the way she comes apart. We’re all there to worship at the altar of her pleasure, and I’d be lying if I said the jealousy didn’t spike and thrum in my chest.
But I want it. I want it for her, and for us.
She starts writhing so hard that Jesse’s grip can barely hold her.
Marshall shifts closer, bracing one hand to the floor while the other steadies her hip as he laps at her until she’s almost sobbing.
“Don’t you dare,” she hisses, “don’t…” and then loses the rest to breathless, animal sound, half laughed, half torn.
Marshall groans deep and thick in his throat, and I ache for the feeling, being right there, drowning in her, getting lost. It’s almost as good from this side, watching her sweat and shake and then go limp in Jesse’s arms like a stringless marionette.
Jesse strokes her hair and murmurs words I can’t hear. I don’t need to. Her face is turned up, eyes shut, lips parted in a half-cocked grin—smug and dazed at the same time.
As she catches her breath, I grab my cock in my hand. Those pretty pink lips of hers are crying out for me. I can’t wait.
I inch forward and stroke her jaw with my thumb, feel her melt under my fingers, feel Marshall’s eyes on me, hungry and approving.
The craving in me is total. I line up against her lips, and she doesn’t hesitate—just opens up, takes me deep, the tip of her tongue tracing the underside until I almost black out.
She moans low and throaty, her mouth a velvet trap. I clench my hand in her hair, and Marshall dips two fingers into her, all of us moving in a perfect, greedy clockwork.
Jesse still has her wrists, but he lets her writhe just enough to snake her other hand upward, pressing between my thigh and hips until she finds the spot she wants and grips hard—nails and all.
I groan and surge, losing rhythm, but she steadies me, bobbing her head, starved for the taste.
Before I even know what’s happening,Jesse guides her forward onto her knees and lines himself behind her. She reaches out for me again, and then, she’s split wide open, whining around me while he pushes into her.
The sight is obscene, blessed: her lips stuffed and stretched, and Jesse so thick he forces her gasps down my shaft, each groan vibrating through me.
Marshall grabs her by the hips as she takes us both, greedy and wild, a tangle of golden hair and flushed skin.
