35. Ana
CHAPTER 35
ANA
W hen I come down from the peak, Derek gets his fingers involved while his tongue teases my clit. It’s almost too much, and I try to steady my breathing so I can feel everything.
“Watch him,” Jansen tells me. “Watch his fingers fuck your pussy.”
It’s obscene the way they dip in and out of me; the way he’s still in that beautiful blue dress shirt, sleeves still buttoned at his wrists, while every inch of my skin is bare and available for them to do what they want with; the way Derek holds eye contact with me as he presses in and out of one of my most intimate spaces.
I watch them both play with their toy and I slowly but steadily build toward another orgasm. When it hits, it’s deeper and longer, and so incredibly good .
“That’s it, Ana. You’re ours. That pussy is all ours.” It’s Jansen, his voice rumbling near my ear and in my head.
It’s just sex. Outside of this, I’d never want a man to be so possessive, but everything these men say and do turns me on so much—it’s no wonder I can’t resist them.
It’s reckless, being with them, but I can’t pass up what I’m experiencing, because they’re like a book come to life, and I want to live inside this fantasy forever.
They make me come several more times, and my body is limp and spent when they finally stand, side by side, and take their clothes off.
My eyes dance across their bodies, from their strong, broad shoulders, to their lean, tight abs, to their big cocks, and their powerful thighs.
And these gorgeous men only want me.
They’re mine … for now. And I intend to enjoy them.
I may be exhausted, but it’s easy to get a second wind when two gorgeous men are standing naked right in front of you.
I take their cocks, one in each of my hands, and stroke them. They’re warm and heavy in my palms, and I can’t wait long before I take them in my mouth, first Derek, then Jansen. I alternate between them, sucking, licking, stroking, feeling like too much of a good thing is exactly what I need.
When I have Derek’s thick cock back in my mouth, Jansen climbs onto the couch behind me and presses his cock into my pussy. I gasp, but manage to keep my hold on Derek, and then I’m between them, connected to them both, and it’s unbelievable.
Derek’s hand goes to the back of my head, keeping me steady as his hips pump forward and back. Jansen’s big hand grips my hip as he buries himself inside me, over and over. He reaches around to stroke my clit, and then I’m coming apart, overcome and overwhelmed in the best possible way. These two men are working me hard, just like I’ve always wanted.
As I start to come, Derek’s hip action stutters, then he stiffens and starts to release. I take all I can, until he pulls back and paints my cheeks and chest with the last spurts of his climax.
Jansen follows right behind, his hold on me tightening as he alerts me with a grunt. His cock starts to throb deep inside me as he comes, long and hard.
Afterward, as we all recover, Derek goes off and returns with a warm, wet cloth and uses it to clean my face. There’s a gentleness to his touch that makes my chest feel funny, but it’s probably more about the vulnerable state I’m in than anything else .
He leads me into the bathroom, where, after I put my hair up in a band from my purse, I step into the shower with him. His touch is tender there too, and a little teasing, as he gets me soapy and rinses me clean.
The sight of his body dripping with water is enough to make me ready for more, but I follow his lead, and when we step out, Jansen is there to wrap me in a robe, murmuring, “I want to get you dirty all over again,” as his arms go around me to knot the tie at my waist.
Laughing—such a rare, warm sound—Derek says, “Me too, but we need to eat first.”
Jansen gets in the shower, and I tell Derek I’m going to go get my clothes, but he tells me to keep the robe on and be comfortable. As I go back to the living room, he disappears for a moment and returns wearing jogging pants, and it’s possibly an even better look on him than jeans, though I might be influenced by the fact that he’s not wearing a shirt.
“Can I help with dinner?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “It’s going to be delivered. What would you like to drink?”
“Same as last time?” I wonder if he’ll remember what I drank when I was here before, and he does without hesitation.
Jansen appears, wearing his dress pants and buttoning his shirt—until he sees Derek and me. “I guess dinner is casual? ”
“Would you like to borrow a pair of pants?”
Jansen shakes his head. “I’ll be right back.” He heads for the front door, and I’m reminded that Derek told me he lives in this building, too.
“So how were your holidays?” I ask Derek as he gets silverware and plates from a cupboard.
“Quiet.”
“Did you see your family?”
He puts out three place settings at his slate gray dining table.
“My parents were on a cruise. I saw them at Thanksgiving. How about you?”
“My holidays were great. Thanks again for the time off.”
When the food arrives, Jansen returns too, wearing a heathered blue t-shirt that makes me think about cuddling again, because it looks so soft and fits him so well. He also has on silky-looking navy joggers that have me picturing him at the gym or on a basketball court.
I love seeing this other side of the men, more casual and looking less like my grumpy bosses and more like typical men—typical men who are mouth-wateringly gorgeous.
Dinner is an array of Asian fusion foods, with a few large, family style dishes, and several different small bites, some sweet and some spicy. All three of us attack the feast, ravenous from our pre-dinner activities.
We’re quiet for a few minutes as we dig into the delicious and creative food, and then Derek circles back to our recent conversation. “So you had a good vacation, Ana? Did you spend time reading?”
“Yes, I read a couple of books, and I also spent time with family.” After I pluck a dumpling from the platter, I add, “My roommate and I wanted to visit our friend Stella who lives across the state, but that didn’t work out.”
“Why not?” Jansen asks.
“She lives with her mom and stepdad, and things are often rocky. They seem particularly rough at the moment.”
“How so?”
“Stella has a young daughter—she’s living with her mom because she can’t afford her own place—and there are just a lot of disagreements. Issues with noise, rules, food. Stella doesn’t go into detail, but I suspect her parents might have a drinking problem, because the arguments often seem irrational.”
Familiar frowns have returned to the men’s faces. “What about the father of Stella’s child?” Jansen asks.
“He sends a little money every month, because he has to, but otherwise, he’s not involved. And he doesn’t make much, so he can’t send much. Stella is actually a big part of the reason why I decided to accept your job offer. I’ve been able to help her out a little, even though she doesn’t like taking help.”
Derek lifts his glass, about to take a drink. “I call bullshit. You took the job because you can’t get enough of us.”