He doesn’t make me say it twice. His jeans hit the floor in seconds, and then I feel him, hot and heavy against my lower back.
“Bend over… I need to see your ass, Aurora.”
Finn grabs me by the waist, lifting me effortlessly and guiding me to kneel on the couch. Then Ryder’s there, the blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance. He slides in slowly, inch by inch, groaning low as he fills me.
“Damn, Aurora,” he hisses. “You feel like fucking heaven.”
He thrusts a little deeper, each movement sending a jolt of sensation up my spine, through my sternum, lighting up the backs of my knees.
I can barely catch a breath.
Ryder’s hands tighten around my waist, holding me where he wants me, as if he’s trying to keep me from dissolving. I push back into him, desperate, greedy; his groan is guttural, almost animal. Zane is in front of me again, kneeling on the sofa, his cock in hand, stroking himself as he watches Ryder slide into me. His eyes never leave my face.
“You want it, don’t you?” he whispers. “Want to be messy for us. Good fucking girl.”
I nod and open for him, lips parted, tongue out, and he pushes into my mouth, slow but insistent. I take him deep, the taste of salt and heat making my knees weak.
I move my mouth around him, tongue slick, and he shudders, hand threading into my hair, not forcing but guiding, letting me know what he needs.
The vulnerability of it, the way Zane so plainly wants, is enough to make me pulse around Ryder, who groans and drives harder, his hips meeting my ass with hungry, rhythmic slaps.
Finn’s beside me, his hands and mouth everywhere: stroking my back, threading his fingers through mine against the sofa, kissing and biting at my neck whenever he can reach. The heat of his skin, the scratch of his stubble, the strength of his hands, every sensation layers over the others, impossible to separate, building me up in reckless and wild abandon.
They talk to me, all of them, sometimes words and sometimes just noises.
“Take it, pretty girl,” Ryder grits out, his thrusts quickening. “You’re so fucking tight. She’s perfect.”
I want to believe it, I want to be perfect for them, shattered and rebuilt and used up.
“You’re taking it so well. Fuck, she’s dripping. You ready, Aurora?” Zane’s voice splinters my spine.
My answer is a strangled moan, mouth too full of him to speak.
The salty, sharp taste, the slick slide, the groan of satisfaction from above me. I let my eyes flutter up: his head thrown back, throat working, the cut glass planes of his face rearranged by pleasure and need. I lose track of myself.
My body isn’t a boundary anymore. It’s a crossroads, a storm, a song played too loud. Finn’s arms around my chest, wrappedtight, his cock pressed hard against my thigh, not even inside me yet, and already he’s shaking with the effort of holding back.
Ryder fucking into me, every thrust staking a claim, Zane fucking my mouth.
He pulses against my tongue as he comes, and it’s like he’s exhaling a piece of himself right into me. I swallow, a little messy, and the taste burns itself into my mouth as the shudders travel through his whole body.
The way he holds my head, the little groan that breaks from his throat, the intensity in his eyes… I want to chase that reaction, again and again, from all of them, forever.
Finn finally loses whatever fragile control he was holding onto as he takes Zane’s place, sliding greedily between my lips.
The room feels too small for everything happening inside it.
Ryder’s pace falters behind me, his control slipping in a way that feels rare. Dangerous, even. His hand splays across my lower back, holding me, anchoring himself as much as me.
“Stay with me,” he mutters.
Zane’s hands are gentler now, his thumb brushing along my chest, calming me when my thoughts scatter.
My breath comes in uneven pulls. My skin feels too sensitive, every nerve still lit up, every place they touched echoing.
Iknowthings are going to get much more dangerous from here on out, but I wouldn't change it for anything in the world.
CHAPTER THIRTY
