Chapter Thirteen
IT’S IMPOSSIBLY STRANGE and complicated to love four people—and to be unable to choose between them.
For as long as I’ve known these men there’s always been someone I want who isn’t mine in that moment.
Someone out of reach. But tonight, with the air tight around us, I can feel that gap closing, and it’s scary and exciting.
I don’t hesitate to kneel down on the worn carpet in obedience to Ryder’s demand. There’s nothing I want more than to feel close to Jake at last. Again. Finally.
He spreads his knees, letting me settle between his legs, watching me with a heated expression.
A small, satisfied smile touches his lips, an intimate curve just for me, even with an audience.
The sight of his erection—long and thick, with a prominent vein pulsing along its length—makes a fresh clench of desire seize low in my belly.
I place my hands on the warm, hard muscles of his thighs and glance once more at Ryder. There’s more than permission written across his face. He’s gripped and focused. Intense.
It’s turning him on.
The idea that this could be more than tolerance on Ryder’s part sets my heart racing. It makes the possibility of not having to choose that much more real.
I lean in and wrap my lips over the head of Jake’s cock, letting my tongue trace the sensitive ridge underneath as I take him deeper. The weight of him on my tongue is welcome and familiar. He inhales on a sharp hiss and his pelvis tilts forward, a plea for more.
“Jesus Christ, Max,” he bites out. “Fuck yes, that mouth.”
I pull back, milking him with the tight seal of my lips, and then swirl my tongue around his head before swallowing him again. I push myself to go deeper, until his length hits the back of my throat.
“Oh, God.” The sound is wrenched from him. I moan in response, the vibration making his entire body jerk. A salty bead of fluid leaks onto my tongue. The taste of him, salt and musk and Jake, sends a shiver down my spine, making me even more hot and slick between my thighs than I already am.
I feel a hand sweep over my scalp, lifting up my hair and pulling it off my neck, and I know it’s not Jake, who’s leaning back on his hands.
I pull back with a wet, obscene pop, my lips feeling swollen and glossy, and look over my shoulder.
Damian is right there, bent close, his face taut with concentration.
One hand is knotted in my hair, a firm anchor.
The other is wrapped around his own impressive erection, his boxers shoved down just enough to free himself.
I reach out, finding his wrist, and he lets me take over, his hand falling away as I wrap my fingers around his steel-hard flesh. He groans, his cock thickening in my grip, and fuck…it makes me even wetter.
I turn back to Jake, taking him in my mouth again, Damian a hot, heavy weight in my hand.
I fall into a rhythm, stroking my hand in time with my mouth until they’re both moaning.
In my mind’s eye, I can feel Wyatt’s gaze on my back, on the curve of my ass as it rocks back and forth, on Damian’s hand in my hair moving with me, guiding, a partner in the act.
Tilting my chin very slightly, I cut my eyes to Ryder, leaning against the headboard on my left. His gaze is locked on me, dark and intense. The thick ridge straining against the fabric of his pants is impossible to miss, but he keeps his hands to himself and just watches.
“Fuck, that’s so good,” Jake groans, hips lifting to meet me. “Fuck yes.”
I have to breathe through my nose as he thrusts up to meet me, loosen my throat so I don’t choke, but he’s beyond awareness now, just a creature of need and want.
“Fuck!” He suddenly grips the base of his shaft, trying to pull back, to slow the inevitable, but I follow him down, adjusting my angle to take him even deeper, my mouth working him at that same frantic rhythm.
And then he breaks. His erection pulses against my tongue, and my mouth fills with the hot, salty rush of his release.
“Holy shit,” he rasps. “Jesus.” He collapses back against the mattress, and I stay with him, forgetting Damian for the moment as I swallow Jake down, my tongue cleaning him gently until a final shudder wracks his frame and he’s too sensitive for more.
I pull away, slowly, and run my tongue over my tingling lips.
A low, warm chuckle rumbles from Damian’s chest as he rocks his erection slowly against the circle of my fingers.
“My turn?” he asks, a grin in his voice as I tilt my head back to look up at him.
“Mm-hmm,” I nod.
It’s all on the table now. The entire energy of the room has shifted, the initial tension giving way to a current of shared desire.
I don’t check in with Ryder this time. The permission has been granted, the seal broken.
I just move over to Damian and hook my fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them all the way down, revealing the sharp line of his hipbones and the hard, jutting length of his shaft.
I lean in and press a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the flushed head, and a deep, low growl rumbles in his chest.
I stroke him from the soft crown all the way down to the thick base as I take him into my mouth.
He shifts, groaning, his hips rocking up to meet the rhythm of my hand and tongue.
I take him down deep, using the same technique I just used on Jake, but when my tongue traces that sensitive vein on the underside of his shaft, his breath hitches, going tight and ragged.
He suddenly reaches for my arms, his grip firm, and pulls me up.
“C’mere,” he says, his voice thick as I lift my head.
I let him haul me onto his lap. He kisses me, a deep, claiming kiss, and his hands find the hem of my t-shirt, yanking it up and over my head in one smooth motion.
He makes quick work of my bra, the hooks giving way with a twist of his fingers, and then his palms are on my bare breasts.
He squeezes them hungrily, a guttural groan escaping him as he kneads the soft flesh.
“I need to fuck you,” he whispers against the shell of my ear.
“Yes,” I answer, my voice just a thin thread of sound. As I speak, I tilt my head toward Ryder—just in case—and he nods.
Damian grabs my hips and guides me to stand.
He pulls down the sweatpants and the boys briefs he bought me at Walmart, dragging them down my legs.
I step out of them, kicking the fabric aside, and now I’m standing naked before all of them.
The air is cool on my skin, making my nipples tighten.
It’s revealing, vulnerable…but utterly, exquisitely sexy.
“Turn her around,” Wyatt says, his voice uncharacteristically demanding. “So I can see her.”
Fuck, that destroys me—the command, coming from him.
Damian takes me by the hips and turns me so I’m facing Wyatt.
My skin prickles with awareness as four pairs of eyes rake over me hungrily.
Wyatt’s blue eyes are burning, pupils blown wide with a dark, hungry light.
Just standing there, exposed and knowing exactly what he’s about to see, sends a fresh fire licking through my veins.
I feel seen, desired, and utterly powerless in the best possible way.
Damian pulls me down, positioning the head of his erection at my slick entrance, and lowers me onto him in one achingly slow movement.
“Holy fuck,” he murmurs against my shoulder. “You’re soaked.”
The stretch of him is exquisite, a deep, full pressure that makes my eyes go unfocused and my mouth fall open. But I try not to break my gaze from Wyatt. In some strange way, this feels like it’s happening between the three of us, like Damian’s body is simply an extension of Wyatt’s will.
“That’s so good, sweetheart,” Wyatt murmurs, his voice a low caress. “You look so fucking good like that.”
I feel my breasts bouncing with Damian’s rhythm and Wyatt’s eyes move down to them, his gaze dark. Slowly, as if mesmerized, he reaches for the zipper of his pants. When he pulls out his thick, familiar cock, my muscles clamp around Damian and he moans.
Damian’s hand moves from my hip, sliding between us to find the swollen nub of my clit. He starts stroking me in time with his thrusts, and a wave of blistering heat washes over me.
“Oh God,” I hear myself whisper.
Wyatt’s hand starts moving, stroking himself with slow pulls.
His thumb smears through the pearly fluid gathering at the tip.
His eyes track every single movement as Damian’s pace quickens, pulling me down against him again and again.
His breathing is shallow, each inhale careful and tight, a stark contrast to the ragged sounds coming from Damian.
There’s something desperate in the way he looks at me, like he’s starving and I’m the only thing that could ever sate him.
“Fuck, sweetie,” he whispers, his voice strained. “You’re making me lose my mind.” His erection is flushed a dark, urgent color, the tip slick as his fingers slide over it. I wish we could be closer. I lick my lips, my breath coming in short, needy gasps. Fuck, I’m going to come again.
Wyatt grits his teeth, sucking in a sharp breath as his hand works faster, his gaze locked on the place where Damian and I are joined.
The sight of that thick, hard cock that’s fucked me so deep, the memory of it…
and suddenly I’m there. My orgasm crashes through me, a pulsing, clenching wave that milks Damian’s length as I quiver and gasp for air.
“Oh God,” Damian cries, moving faster—but Ryder stops him with a hand on his arm.
“Do not come inside of her,” he says, his voice low and deep. An order.
Damian actually whimpers. “Fuck,” he hisses.
“Pull out,” Ryder says. “Now.”
Damian’s hands clamp around my waist, pulling me off him as if I’ve suddenly turned into molten lava. “Fuck,” he pants. “Jesus, fuck.”
“Get on your knees,” Ryder tells me.