Chapter Eleven
It’s been about a week since my first real round with all three of the guys, and I’m honestly starting to get sued to being passed around.
My body is adjusting to the demanding schedule, shifting gears between Ash, Aiden, and Ryker.
My ass is basically sore twenty-four seven though, aching in places I didn’t know could get sore, but I’m not complaining. Actually, I like it. A lot.
Today, though, I’ve got a different kind of nervous energy buzzing in my stomach.
I finally landed a job. The guys insisted I don’t need one.
Ryker’s covering the bills and they won’t charge me rent for sleeping in their beds, but I’m stubborn.
I want to contribute something, paying for groceries or utilities at the very least. I can’t just be a freeloader.
Ash made a few calls and helped me get a floor position at a retailer downtown. Today is my first shift.
I step out of the shower, feeling clean and awake.
I dry off, pull on the button-down shirt and tailored slacks Ash bought me last week, and run some product through my hair.
The clothes fit perfectly, hugging my frame and making me look way more put-together than a guy who was sleeping on cardboard a few weeks ago.
I walk out into the kitchen where Ash and Aiden are at the island, eating eggs and toast. The smell of fresh coffee fills the air. Aiden looks up from his phone, his eyes drinking me in, and grins.
“Well, look at you. Moving up in the world, huh?”
I smile, feeling a little self-conscious as I step up to the counter. Ash reaches out, his warm fingers brushing my neck as he smooths down my collar.
“You look great, Jax,” Ash says, soft and encouraging. “Nervous?”
“A little,” I admit, leaning into his touch.
Aiden reaches over and messes up the front of my hair with a laugh, undoing the styling I just spent five minutes on.
“Don’t sweat it, man,” Aiden says, taking a bite of his toast. “You’re going to charm the pants off everyone in that store.”
I huff a laugh and fix my hair as footsteps sound in the hall.
Ryker walks into the kitchen wearing a black button-down and dark slacks, his tattoos peeking out at the collar and cuffs, every bit as intimidating as always.
He doesn’t say good morning or bother pouring a cup of coffee.
He walks up to me, grabs my hips, and spins me around so I’m facing the counter.
“Hey,” I start, but my breath catches as Ryker shoves my chest flat against the marble of the island.
His hands go to my belt, unbuckling it with speed, and then he yanks my new slacks and my boxers down to my knees. Cool air brushes my bare ass, and my face burns red hot. Ash and Aiden sit on the other side of the counter, their mugs paused near their mouths, watching with open amusement.
I squirm, my thighs pressing together. My ass is still tender from the spanking Ryker gave me last night, my skin sensitive and overly responsive to every draft in the room. I try to reach back and pull my clothes up, but Ryker smacks my ass hard and makes me jump and yelp.
“Ah, fuck,” I hiss, biting my lip and glaring at the marble counter.
“Shh,” Ryker murmurs, his raspy voice sending a shiver down my spine. “Be a good boy and stay put.”
I relent, dropping my arms and letting my head rest sideways against the counter.
I’m getting used to Ryker’s rough brand of intimacy by now.
He likes to push my limits, likes to leave marks on me, likes to remind me who I belong to.
I’m not afraid to admit to myself anymore that I crave it too. It suits him well.
But I’m not prepared when Ryker pushes two dry fingers against my puckered hole.
I let out a sharp moan, my hips jerking forward, but Ryker’s other hand clamps down on my lower back, holding me in place. He pushes those dry fingers inside me, stretching me without any prep, without any lube. It stings, a hot, tight pinch that makes my breath hitch and my toes curl in my shoes.
“Ryker,” I gasp, my hands gripping the edge of the marble tightly. “That hurts.”
He ignores my whining, curling his fingers inside my tight canal, feeling the way my muscles clamp down around his digits. I squirm, my face flushing darker as Aiden chuckles from the barstools.
“You’re turning red, pretty boy,” Aiden teases, taking a slow sip of his coffee while watching Ryker finger me over the kitchen island. “Want me to grab my phone and take a picture for your first day of work?”
“Fuck you, Aiden,” I groan, squeezing my eyes shut.
Ryker tsks, clicking his tongue in disapproval at my language. He pulls his fingers out, leaving my hole throbbing from the dry intrusion. He leans over me, pressing his broad chest against my back, his cheek resting near my ear.
“Still too tight,” Ryker murmurs. He traces the rim of my hole with his thumb, pressing on a tender spot from last night.
I whimper, unable to hide how sensitive I am.
“I worry a whole day away from us is going to make this tight little ass tense up again. We can’t have you forgetting your place just because you’re out selling clothes. ”
Ash rests his chin on his hand, smiling softly at me over his coffee mug. “He has a point, Jax.”
I glare at Ash playfully, though it’s tough to look intimidating with my pants around my ankles and Ryker’s thumb pressing into my ass. “I won’t tense up. I promise.”
“Words don’t mean shit,” Ryker says. “We better do something to make sure you stay nice and ready for us.”
I hear the harsh sound of Ryker’s zipper coming down and the heavy clink of his belt buckle hitting his slacks. Then he spits directly onto my exposed hole, the wetness cold for a split second before he uses his thumb to smear it over my tight flesh.
My stomach drops. I know exactly what’s coming, but my body is still unprepared.
I go limp against the counter as Ryker pushes his thick cock inside me.
He doesn’t ease into it, just drives forward, forcing his way past my tight ring of muscle with a brutal shove.
Tears prick my eyes instantly at the sharp, stinging burn of the penetration.
Saliva is nowhere near enough lubrication for his size, and the friction drags painfully along my sensitive walls.
I let out a loud, embarrassing wail, my fingers scrambling for a grip on the smooth marble top as he sinks all the way to the hilt.
“Fuck,” Ryker growls, his voice rumbling against my spine. “You’re always so damn tight.”
He starts fucking me immediately, setting a rough, punishing pace that knocks the breath out of my lungs.
I whimper loudly, my face pressed sideways against the cold stone of the island.
Every time he thrusts forward, the hard edge of the marble counter bites into my hip bones.
It’s going to leave dark bruises by tomorrow, illustrating how hard he’s taking me right here in the middle of the kitchen.
I squirm, trying to find a better angle, trying to alleviate the sting of his dry cock dragging in and out of me, but his grip on my waist is like a vice. He holds me firmly in place, forcing me to take every inch of him.
The pain starts to melt into a deep, heavy ache, and my cock stiffens against the counter.
I try to hide my face in my arms. Ash and Aiden are sitting literally three feet away, finishing their breakfast. I can hear the clink of Aiden’s coffee mug being set down on a coaster.
The casual normalcy of them watching me get pounded over the breakfast bar makes a flush of heat crawl all the way up my neck to the tips of my ears.
Ryker’s thrusts get shorter and harder, his breathing turning ragged.
His heavy thighs slap against my ass cheeks, the sound echoing sharply through the kitchen.
I can’t stop the broken, needy sounds spilling out of my mouth.
The stretch feels incredible now, filling me up so completely that my brain feels like its malfunctioning.
I pant, my hips stuttering as I try to push back against him, seeking out the deep pressure as he hammers against my prostate.
Ryker groans deeply, his fingers bite into the meat of my hips as he drives forward one last time.
He holds himself deep inside me, his hips locked flush against my ass.
The hot, thick spurts of his cum shoot deep into my belly.
The warmth spreads through my insides, heavy and full.
I melt into the counter, my legs shaking so badly they can barely support my weight.
He stays buried inside me for a long moment, catching his breath, before he finally pulls out with a wet, sloppy sound. I shiver, feeling the immediate loss of his heat, and the slow, inevitable trickle of his cum starting to slide out of me.
Before I can push myself up, Ryker’s large hand clamps down on the back of my neck. He pins me against the marble again. I groan, turning my head to look back over my shoulder, exhausted and confused.
Ryker uses his free hand to dig into the pocket of his slacks. He pulls out a black silicone plug, the base wide and flared, the tip tapered. My eyes go wide. He reaches for a bottle of lube they keep stashed in the drawer next to the fridge, coating the thick black toy with the clear gel.
He grins down at me, a dark, wicked expression on his handsome face. “This should keep your hole nice and open for us.”
“Wait, Ryker—”
My protest turns into a high-pitched moan as he lines the silicone tip up with my hole and pushes it inside.
The lube makes it slide in much easier than his cock did, but it’s thick and heavy.
The flared base fits snugly between my ass cheeks, locking all of his warm, sticky cum deep inside my body.
The sensation is overwhelming. My body is already pushed to the edge from the rough fucking, the stinging friction, and the humiliation of being used in front of the others. Having my prostate suddenly pressed on by the thick silicone toy pushes me straight over the cliff.