Chapter 26 Ivy #2
Freddie’s hands are already between my legs, fingers skilled and unhurried, teasing me with maddening precision. My breath catches, hips instinctively shifting toward his touch, the pleasure sparking like fire in my veins.
It’s overwhelming and perfect, this feeling of being wanted… completely, simultaneously, by all of them.
Timothy kisses me hard, his mouth claiming mine with a hunger that leaves no room for doubt. I melt into it, his lips, his taste, the way he drinks in every gasp I make.
One hand tangles in my hair, gently but possessively, the other sliding down my back to grip my ass and pull me flush against him. I feel his heartbeat against mine. Fast, wild, like mine.
Somewhere in the chaos, I realize I’ve never felt more alive. More seen. More desired. And the most intoxicating part?
I want all of it.
I moan into his mouth, hips rocking toward Freddie’s touch. It’s messy and hot and wild, and I’ve never felt anything like it.
And then Mitchell is behind me again, his voice rough in my ear. “We’re going to make you feel everything, Ivy. No holding back.”
I believe him. I want it, them, more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
Freddie’s fingers slip beneath my panties, and the moment he finds how wet I am, he lets out a low, appreciative groan.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, voice thick. “She’s soaked already.”
I don’t know if I should be embarrassed or empowered. Probably both. But when he pushes a finger inside me, slow and deliberate, I stop caring altogether. My body jerks, back arching into Mitchell behind me.
Timothy catches my face between his hands, watching every little reaction. “Eyes on me, Ivy.”
I look at him. I try to. But Freddie is teasing me ruthlessly now, his tongue tracing circles just above where I want him most, his finger curling perfectly inside me. My lips part in a moan that Timothy swallows when he kisses me again, this time rougher, deeper, like he wants to own every gasp.
Mitchell’s hands are everywhere, tugging down my panties, palming my breasts, guiding me back against the hard line of his cock through his jeans. He thrusts lightly, just enough to let me feel him there. Waiting.
“Tell us what you want,” Mitchell says, biting the shell of my ear.
“I want…” I whimper as Freddie adds a second finger, pumping them slowly. “I want everything.”
“You’ll get everything,” Timothy growls, stepping back just enough to strip. My eyes lock on his body, lean muscle, tattoos, his cock already hard and thick, curving up toward his stomach.
He strokes himself lazily as he watches Freddie work between my legs, and the sight alone nearly undoes me.
“Mitchell,” I pant, reaching back. “Please.”
He doesn't make me say it twice. His jeans hit the floor in seconds, and then I feel him, hot and heavy against my lower back.
“Bend her over,” he says, voice dark and steady. “I want to take her from behind.”
Timothy grabs me by the waist, lifting me effortlessly and guiding me to kneel on the couch. Freddie moves, giving Mitchell room, but not before licking one long, slow stripe up my center. I cry out, knees buckling, but Timothy’s there, steadying me.
Then Mitchell’s there, the blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance. He slides in slowly, inch by inch, groaning low as he fills me.
“Damn, Ivy,” he hisses. “You feel like fucking heaven.”
I bury my face into the cushion, moaning something incoherent. I can feel every inch of him, thick and deep, and the stretch is delicious.
Timothy’s lips are at my shoulder, kissing, biting. “Doing okay?”
“More than okay,” I gasp.
He smiles, just before he moves in front of me and guides his cock to my mouth. “Think you can take both ends?”
I nod, mouth already open, tongue flicking the tip. He groans as I wrap my lips around him, sucking slowly, teasingly, until his hips twitch and his control starts to slip.
Behind me, Mitchell begins to thrust, deep, rhythmic strokes that make me jolt forward into Timothy with every motion. It’s intense. Full. I’m completely stuffed, completely owned, and the way they use me, like I’m theirs to ruin, only makes me wetter.
Freddie’s not idle. He kneels beside me again, whispering filth into my ear as he trails his fingers down my back, watching every reaction like he’s cataloging me.
“She loves it,” he says, one hand between my legs again, stroking my clit in perfect circles. “She’s dripping down your cock, Mitch.”
“Good,” Mitchell growls, slamming harder. “I want her coming just like this.”
And I do.
Fast and brutal, my orgasm tears through me like a live wire, raw, blinding, unavoidable.
It hits so hard, I nearly black out. My scream is caught in my throat, muffled by the fullness of Timothy’s cock, and that only makes it worse, better.
I choke on the sound, on the pleasure, on the impossible pressure detonating between my legs.
My body locks up, back arching, thighs shaking violently. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I’m held, by Mitchell’s strong arms around my waist, by Timothy’s hands gripping my jaw, by Freddie whispering filthy praise in my ear, and I’m completely at their mercy.
Timothy lets out a guttural curse. “Fuck, Ivy…” and then he’s pulsing in my mouth.
I feel it before I even register what’s happening, his cock twitching on my tongue, the hot, salty flood of him spilling down my throat. My eyes fly wide, tears streaming, but I don’t pull away.
I take it. All of it.
The moment shatters me. My orgasm crashes harder, deeper, pulled along by the shock and thrill of being so used, so completely consumed.
I’m crying now, I think. My body’s convulsing, breath catching between gasps, moans, and the wrecked whimper of a girl who’s past her limit and still begging for more.
Timothy withdraws slowly, gently, and his hand cradles my cheek like he hasn’t just finished in my mouth. Like he didn’t just push me to the edge of something dark and gorgeous and leave me gasping there.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “You’re perfect. You did so good.”
The praise wrecks me more than the orgasm. I press my forehead to his chest, still trembling, still half-dazed. I feel Mitchell’s lips at my temple. Freddie’s hand on my spine.
“Holy fuck,” I moan, trembling, body still pulsing around Mitchell.
Freddie kisses me, deep and messy. “That’s one.”
I barely get a breath before Mitchell pulls out, and Freddie takes his place behind me.
He slides in with ease, slower at first, coaxing the overstimulation into something new, something tender, almost romantic.
But I know better. Freddie can be sweet, but he’s also filthy.
It doesn’t take long for him to build speed, his hand tugging my hair back so I can’t look anywhere but at Timothy.
“You’re gonna take all three of us tonight,” Freddie growls. “Over and over. Until you forget who you are.”
They don’t let up.
Not even after my second orgasm crashes over me like a wave, or the third leaves me boneless and trembling. I’m dripping sweat, lips swollen, thighs shaking, but I’m not done. They’re not done.
Freddie pulls out slowly, gently, kissing the curve of my back. His voice is low and coaxing. “You’re okay?”
I nod weakly, voice wrecked. “Uh huh.”
“On your knees,” Timothy says, guiding me down to the rug. His voice is calm, but it carries that quiet command I’ve started to crave. “Hands behind your back.”
I obey without question, kneeling, palms pressed together behind me, chest heaving as I stare up at the three of them. They look… dangerous. Gorgeous. Hungry.
My pussy clenches involuntarily.
“Damn, look at her,” Freddie breathes, running his hand through his hair. “Completely wrecked and still ready for more.”
Mitchell’s pacing slowly now, cock still hard, glistening. “Think she can take us all again?”
Timothy crouches in front of me and tilts my chin up, his thumb dragging across my bottom lip. “You still with us, baby?”
I nod, meeting his eyes. “I want it.”
He grins. “Good girl, because I can tell you now, this night is only just beginning.”
My heart thunders.
I can’t believe this is happening. This is wild, insane, crazy, but in the best way possible.
And I have to admit, I never want it to end.