Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
I turn my head to look over my shoulder. Prescott’s brow is scrunched, the look of determination and lust so hot as he pushes inside me over and over again.
Prescott whines. “Kit … I want … you. Fuck me. Before I come. I want you inside me.”
Kit cups my jaw and lifts my chin toward him. “That okay with you?”
“A spit roasting and a train? Fuck, yes.”
Yes, I love being the center of attention, but there’s also something about being only a single element of someone else’s pleasure that also gets me going. The idea of Kit fucking Prescott while he fucks me … I quiver and fear I might come from the mere thought of it.
Before Kit leaves me completely though, he leans down and kisses me, licking his way into my mouth.
Prescott slows his thrusts, but I’m so keyed up my whole ass tingles from every long, drawn-out brush over my prostate.
Kit slips off the bed and moves behind us, and I slump forward on my forearms. I’m given a welcome reprieve while Kit works Prescott open and murmurs words of encouragement for him to relax, but with each desperate whisper from Kit and every needy moan from Prescott, it doesn’t take long for that urge to push back onto Prescott’s dick to take over.
I’ll admit to being a greedy whore in the bedroom. I want all the dicks. But this? Feeling Kit thrust inside Prescott, who then moves inside me? It tickles my natural instinct to take care of people—my real-life side—and the selfish need to be the center of attention in bed. Because even though Kit is fucking Prescott, he has both of us under his control. He’s fucking me through Prescott, and I’m dying in the best possible way.
Sweat beads down my forehead. My ass squeezes around Prescott, driving him deeper and harder once he’s adjusted to Kit’s large cock.
Prescott chants, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” in a rhythm that only gets faster and more frantic.
He must be getting close because he reaches underneath me and wraps his hand around my cock. His curse words turn to pleas, but I can’t tell if he’s begging me to come or begging Kit to fuck him harder.
There’s too much going on and not enough at the same time. I don’t even have the voice to ask for more. Or less. Or everything.
“I’m going to come,” Prescott warns, and it literally takes only two more strokes for me to fall over the edge before him. Only another two for Prescott to join me. Kit still pounds inside Prescott, and as much as I love the aftershocks, my ass becomes too sensitive, and I fall face forward into a pillow.
I manage to glance over my shoulder just as Kit’s hand wraps around Prescott’s throat and pulls him flush against his chest. Prescott looks like he’s in the best pain there ever was, and in the next moment, Kit bites down on Prescott’s shoulder. I either wasn’t done, or I’m on a delayed reaction or something because my cock twitches.
I haven’t even come down from the high yet but already know this is the best sex I’ve ever had. As tempting as it is to ask for a repeat another time, to suggest we trade numbers, the reminder that Kit and Prescott have something going on between them is evident by the satisfied smiles on their faces and the way they look at each other.
“I am spent,” I say. “Let me catch my breath, and I’ll be out of your way.”
“If you do something for me, I’ll even drop you back at campus,” Prescott says.
“You don’t have to—”
“I’m not doing it for free.”
“What do you want in return? Should I be scared?” I roll onto my back.
Prescott leans over me. “Kiss us.”
“Pfft, I’ll do that for free. You don’t need to drop me home for that.”
“But he will,” Kit says and moves beside me.
“We need to make sure you get home safely, or you might decide you don’t want to come back,” Prescott says.
“Wait … you guys want me to come back?”
“Of course. Kit didn’t have a turn of your ass, and he and I share everything.”
A quick look in Kit’s direction tells me that might be true, but Kit doesn’t seem happy about it.
“I’ll leave my number, and if you both want me to come back, message me.” I’ll leave it up to Kit whether or not he wants to do this again.
“Done. Now, hurry up and kiss us.” Prescott lowers himself on top of me, our lips coming together like magnets. His mouth is so different from Kit’s. Prescott takes his time. He explores my mouth and drinks me in, but then Kit joins in. Three mouths, three tangled tongues. I get so lost in them I don’t remember to breathe.