Page 73 of Piece Us Together
My eyes find the bulge in the front of his sweatpants. I’m pretty sure Hunter’s eyes are focused on the same thing. I think I hear him mutter, “Christ,” under his breath before he’s taking me back from Maison and nudging me toward the bed. I settle in the center, figuring that’s the logical place for me to be.
Hunter pulls the blankets over me, leaving both sides of the bed empty, then drapes one of his knitted blankets over the whole bed as well.
“Do you have a preferred side?” he asks, fiddling with the blanket instead of looking at Maison.
“Usually the right. If that’s alright?”
Hunter shoots him the quickest smile before starting to climb in beside me. “I’m happy wherever.”
Maison climbs in too.
The blankets rustle, the mattress rolling a little beneath the shifting of the three of us. I’m lying on my back, suddenly unsure who I should face.Is it more romantic to face Maison?But then Hunter has my bare ass.Should I give Maison my bare ass instead?
Which one makes me a better boyfriend? Which one hides the fact that I want them both so badly I can barely breathe—and not just for sex anymore?
This was much easier last night, sex-drunk and half-asleep.
They don’t make me choose, moving my body for me. My face is pressed to Maison’s chest, nothing against my back.
There’s the slightest hesitation, a whispered, “Come here,” from Maison, then Hunter is turning into me, pressing in close, my ass settling in the curve of his crotch, his lips gliding along the curve of my shoulder.
I can’t help but remember that the first real turn in Maison and my relationship was the night I showed up drunk to his room and ordered him to get some sleep, me by his side. It was awkward that night too as we orbited around each other, trying to find our places, trying to figure out how close was too close. We had laughed that night, the tension easing with it. Then we’d turned into each other and found sleep.
It was nights by the fire and chasing rest in his bed that brought us closer, brought us together.
Now Maison smells like woodsmoke, his arm looped over my waist, his hand brushing Hunter’s hip, and I can’t help but wonder if we’re about to do it all over again.
***
I’m pulled from sleep slowly, with soft touches and whispered words that my brain can’t quite catch. Someone is kissing my neck. Slick fingers are pressing into my hole. I drift, caught somewhere in the in-between, riding on a haze of warmth and calm and subtle pleasure. As a cock nudges against my hole, I remember where I am, who I’m with. We’re in bed together. Napping.
Well, not napping anymore.
“He’s waking up,” someone murmurs.
“About time,” the other says with a chuckle.
My chin is taken between fingers and lifted. Lips press to mine. I moan, arching my back, accepting as a cock slides gently into my hole. A tongue slips into my mouth, fingers find my nipple, a knee bumps into mine, an ankle is looped over my calf. A hand is in my hair. A hand is on my hip. An arm is wrappedover me, reaching behind me, past me. Teeth scrape along my shoulder. The cock bottoms out. Someone sighs.
“Fuck.”
“Takes it so well, doesn’t he?”
“So fucking well. Do you want him? Feel him, Maison.”
“I—yeah. Yeah, give me—”
A cock is pulled out of me, my leg grabbed and lifted and turned, another cock sliding in.
“He’s so fucking warm.”
“I think I might have him warm us during the next movie. Would you like that?”
“Fuck. Yeah—I. Yeah. I would. Just not kneeling?”
“No kneeling.” Hands on my hip. The cock slowly pumping in and out. Mouths on either side of my neck. “We’ll lay him out between us on the couch. Fill up both holes, maybe.”
A moan. “He’d love that. He’s—he’s so fuckingneedy.”