Page 199 of Ironwood Ranch Cowboys

I sob for it. I grind back against him, greedy for everything, every pulse of him inside me a new proof that I haven’t disappeared.

The others watch, breathing synced to my every staggered inhale. Duke strokes my hair, murmurs, “Fuck, that’s perfect,” while Cody bites his own wrist, eyes so wide with awe it feels blasphemous to look back at him, so I do. I stare them both down and dare them to turn away.

Silas is all heat and hunger, his arms locked around me, his cock spearing so deep I think I might sob the rest of his name in Morse code.

Each thrust is slow, devastating, like he wants to make a home inside me and never leave. My hips shudder, torn between moving away from the overwhelming fullness and grinding back for more.

Silas buries his face in my neck, sweat dampening my hair. I lap up every syllable like they might fill the old carved-out ache in my chest.

But it’s not just Silas. Cody is at my front again, palming my jaw, his mouth finding mine between the needy gasps.

He tastes like salt and electricity, bites my lower lip then licks the sting away. His hand is everywhere. My throat, my collarbone, between my breasts, mapping each tremor and curve like a surveyor hungry to find something he’s afraid I’ll lose.

I bite him back, hard enough to break skin, and he hisses with gratitude.

Duke presses up at my side, his breath sticky with anticipation. He watches as Silas fucks me, eyes feral and greedy.

I want him, too, want to be split open by all of them, made raw and remade in their hands. He grins when our eyes meet, a flash of teeth, a dare in the curl of his lip, and then he’s on me, hot tongue in my ear, words filthier than anything Vivian has ever called me.

“You want both, baby? You want to see if you can take us all?”

He says it like a threat and a promise and I can’t do anything but nod, every nerve ending grabbing at the idea.

Air disappears as Silas twists me around on his lap so I’m now facing him. My vision tunnels to black at the edges, but it’s not fear. It’s want, pure and devouring, more honest than gravity.

Silas gathers my hair in a fist and drags my head back, exposing my throat; he licks a line from shoulder to ear and bites hard, his hips brutal behind me.

Duke palms my breast and teases my nipple between thumb and knuckle, and then he slides down, hand between my legs, fingers finding my clit and rubbing in greedy circles.

The pleasure is so vicious I lose the thread of my own voice. I gasp, sob, keen at a pitch I’ve never heard from my own lungs, my body overloaded and still somehow starving.

Duke doesn’t ask, I don’t think he’s capable of waiting for permission, but he lines up behind, cock pressed against the seam of my ass while Silas fills me from the front.

My brain can’t compute wanting both at once, but my body rearranges itself to make space. I shudder, caught on the edge of panic and euphoria, the stretch and burn obliterating language.

Duke’s cock pushes inside me, up and back, and I’m crushed between him and Silas, every inch of me a friction point, a war zone, a howling demand for more, more, more. I can’t breathe.

I don’t need to.

I’m not even a person right now: I’m a conduit for pleasure, a wet, shaking thing pinned between two absolute units of masculine intent, and the only way I know I haven’t come entirely unspooled is the steely fingers of Cody on my jaw.

“You’re taking them so good, so fucking perfect, you’re ours, you’re ours, you’re ours…”

It’s unreal. It’s so real it erases everything else. My body takes over, jerking and driving of its own accord, knees bracing, heels slipping on the comforter, trying to meet every thrust even as I want to scramble away from it, to run from the feeling that if they keep going I’ll ignite from the inside out.

Cody grabs my wrists and pins them together in front of me, holding me while Silas keeps his brutal pace and Duke pistons behind.

My whole body rocks in time with them, my vision gone blurry with the force of it, spit and sweat running down my neck. Duke grunts, an animal sound, honest, his hands digging into my hips while he fucks me so hard I see floaters.

Silas’s voice is constant, telling me how good I am, how proud he is, how much he wants to see me come apart again and again.

I don’t realize I’m begging until Cody brings my face up and kisses me, hard. His teeth crunch into my lip, hard enough to leave marks.

I come again, twice, maybe three times, I lose count. Time folds and unspools, seconds smearing together in the white noise of friction and breath.

The world narrows to a singularity, my pussy squeezed tight around Silas, ass stretched and filled by Duke, mouth claimed by Cody. They move as if orchestrated, three parts of a single need determined to hollow me out and fill me with nothing but themselves.

When Duke starts to lose it, I know by the way his rhythm breaks, the way he lets out a string of curses and bites down on my shoulder. He comes with a guttural sound, hips stuttering hard enough that I nearly sob from the overload.