Chapter 26 Perry #2
He lets go, and I immediately crawl away and flop onto my back, letting my head dangle off the edge of the bed.
Buckle wastes no time, slides between my legs and thrusts in, holding my ankles wide apart so I can’t close them, can’t hide anything.
I love the way he spreads me out, the way he claims every piece of me.
Abel hovers, hesitating just at the edge. His cock is an angry shade of red, tip shiny, pre-cum dripping steadily.
“Let me taste you again,” I say, voice thick. “Feed me your cock, sweetness.”
Abel’s throat works as he swallows, shoulders hunched and hands clenching at his sides.
The unmistakable tang of his nervous sweat prickles the air, layered on top of a sweet scent that’s undeniably his.
I drink it in, letting it stoke the fire already burning hot beneath my skin.
There’s a wild, animal urge to reach for him, devour him, but I hold back, knowing how easily he can spiral out.
He takes two hesitant steps forward, so close now I can lean out and lick the salt from his belly.
If only I can get my mouth to obey. He hesitates, then looks down at me, his lips parted, eyes glassy and black with want.
His cock is flushed, the head glistens. He wants this, I can feel it, but there’s a tremor of panic in the way he hovers, like he’s waiting for someone to shout stop.
He licks his lips. “Do you want to…” Abel lets the question hang, the rest of the sentence lost to a faltering breath.
I tilt my chin up, grin wolfish. “I’d love to suck your beautiful cock, Abel.” I want him to know, no, to believe, he’s wanted here. That I want every inch of him inside my mouth, want him falling apart for me, want him to see what it looks like when someone can’t get enough.
Buckle’s cock is still rooted deep in me, and his hands are white-knuckled on my hips.
He’s holding back, so close to losing control he’s practically vibrating with effort.
Still, he manages a wounded pout. “Kind of unfair you give him his first kiss and his first blow job,” Buckle grumbles, voice thick with admiration and jealousy both.
“Fine, we can share,” I tease, but it comes out breathless.
I twist around, awkward with Buckle still inside, and haul myself upright just enough to catch Buckle’s mouth in a messy, half-cocked kiss.
His tongue is greedy, teeth grazing my lower lip, and I let him bite down, let him taste how desperate I am.
He moans into my mouth, grinding up into me, and the resulting friction almost sets me off right there.
I break away, panting, and roll my hips in a slow circle. “On your back, Alpha. I want to ride you.”
Buckle’s eyes flash. There’s something feral in him now, as if giving up control only makes him more determined to take it back.
He nearly flips me in his scramble to follow my directions, and I laugh, the sound equal parts challenge and invitation.
I straddle his thighs, knees braced wide, and impale myself on his cock again in one slow, merciless slide.
The stretch is perfect, the burn just right, and I let my head fall back with a shaky moan.
From the corner of my eye, I watch Abel’s hand fist tight around his own cock.
He’s staring openly now, lost in the sight of Buckle’s cock disappearing inside me, the slick slide of our bodies meeting.
His mouth moves, forming silent words I can’t hear, but I know what he’s thinking.
He wants to be part of it, wants to be devoured and adored the same way, but he’s petrified he’ll fuck it up.
“Don’t worry, sweetness,” I say, planting my hands on Buckle’s chest and rolling my hips, slow and showy.
“We haven’t forgotten you.” I wink at Abel, then crook my finger.
“We can share you. Unless you don’t want that.
You can always just watch. But if you want…
you can feed us your cock while Buckle fucks me. ”
Abel goes still. For a moment, he looks like he might bolt.
Then, with a shaky exhale, he climbs awkwardly onto the bed, bracing one palm on the headboard, the other still clutching his cock.
He stands above us, hovering, and I reach out to gently stroke his thigh, feeling the muscle jump beneath my palm.
I thumb the sensitive skin just above his knee, coaxing him closer.
Abel wants this. Wants to belong, to be claimed, to be used and cherished in equal measure, but the fear of rejection, of being too much or not enough, is written plain across his features.
“You’re sure?” Buckle’s voice is low. He’ll never let anyone here get hurt, least of all Abel. Buckle’s hands span my hips, steadying me even as he splits my focus between the ache of fullness and the growing ache to please Abel too.
Abel nods once, but that’s not enough. I need to hear him say it. I want him to know that his consent is worth more than gold here.
“Words, Abel,” I urge, voice gentler now. “I need to hear it. Say what you want.”
His lips part, then close, then part again.
Finally, he manages, “Please… please suck my dick,” and the words are so raw and earnest my heart could break.
He squeezes the base and offers it to me like a prize, and the brief, overwhelmed smile he gives is probably the bravest thing I’ve ever seen from him.
Buckle lets out a breath. “Color?”
Abel blinks, clearly having forgotten the safe words. Confusion flits across his face before he remembers. He bites his lip, glances down at me, and says, “Oh! Green. I want this. If it helps you, I want it.”
I halt my grinding and meet his gaze, searching for any sign of doubt. “It’ll help, but if you don’t want this, it’s okay—” I start, but Abel cuts me off with a hoarse, “I do.”
I can’t help but beam up at him, proud and hungry at once. “Okay, good.”
Buckle tips his head toward Abel and we both lean in.