Page 74 of Piece Us Together
“Isn’t he? It’s beautiful.”
“Here. Take him again.”
A shift. A cock slides out. Another slides in. A nip of teeth at the juncture of my neck and shoulder. Fingertips digging into my thigh. Knuckles brushing along my cock.
I blink open my eyes, slow, hazy, everything warm and muted, stubble against my temple, the thick scent of Maison’s sleep-warm skin and fading woodsy deodorant in my nose. I pull my head back, lean it against Hunter’s shoulder, turn my face into his throat, and breathe in the spicy scent of his body wash and shaving cream.
“Look who’s finally awake,” Maison rumbles, his lips pulling into a mischievous grin. “How you feeling, baby?”
I moan. I still don’t know whose cock is inside of me. I don’t even care.
Hunter chuckles. “I’ll take that to mean he’s feeling good.”
“Use your words for us. Tell your sir how much you love his cock.”
Hunter’s chuckle cuts off into a filthy moan, his cock moving faster, his grip tighter on my hip. “Yeah, darling. Tell sir how much you love his cock.”
“Love it. Fuck, Mais, sir, love—love it!”
“What about your boyfriend’s, hm?” He pulls out, tilts my hips, then Maison is pushing into me. “How’shiscock, darling?”
I shudder. “Good. Good. So good. Love it. Love both. Love both of—”you. Love both of you.
Falling so fucking hard in love with both of you.
I press my lips together to keep the confession in, eyes squeezing shut, a sob rising in my throat.
“Oh, darling. It’sthatgood, hm?”
“Maybe one day we’ll take you at the same time,” Maison murmurs.
The sob falls from my lips then, my whole body starting to tremble.
“Oh, helikesthat.” Hunter chuckles. Fingers press against my stretched rim, drawing out a moan, my legs twitching. Maison moans too. It takes a moment to realize why.Hunter is touching his cock where it meets my skin.“Think you could take us, darling?”
I shudder.
“I bet he could, if we practiced,” Maison says, his voice a soft tremble of want and need. “Take him back?”
A cock pulls out. Another pushes in.
“Give him a finger, Maison.”
I shudder. “Oh,God.”
“Color?”
“Green. I’m—oh,oh—I’m green, sir, so green. Maison, sir, green.”
A finger moves around my rim, stroking, stroking, stroking, then nudging, slipping inside, just an inch, butoh, oh, oh—I’m sobbing into a chest. Maison’s chest. His dog tags have worked their way out of his shirt. I’m clutching them tight in my fist. His finger is pressing in further, filling me, stretching me, the pad pressing impossibly hard into my prostate with the weight of Hunter’s cock behind it.
“Oh, god, oh, fuck, oh, god…”
I shudder. Gasp.
I feel Hunter shudder behind me. Gasp against my neck. “Fuck, Maison.”
“That feel good?” Maison rasps, and I look up, but his eyes aren’t on me, they’re over my shoulder, on Hunter, eyes heavy-lidded, his lips slightly parted and slick as he watches my sir.