Blitz #2
“I want you both,” she confidently announced. Blitz leaned back against the desk, waiting for either of them to answer. The air felt thick around them, and she worried that they weren’t going to give her what she wanted—again.
The back office felt smaller than it actually was, walls closing in around them, thick with the muffled bass from the Halloween party starting in the clubhouse.
The desk was scratched, the chair crooked, the air smoky—but she barely noticed.
What consumed her was the way Drifter’s gaze pinned her in place, while Monster’s presence behind her made every inch of her skin prickle.
“Relax,” Monster murmured against her ear, his voice low and steady. His hands slid over her hips, tugging her back flush against the hard line of his body. The rough denim of his jeans pressed against her curves, leaving no doubt how badly he wanted her.
Drifter leaned in from the front, tattoos shifting as he trailed one finger from her throat down to the swell of her breasts, teasing at the edge of her top.
“She’s trembling,” he said with a slow, wicked smile.
“But not because she wants us to stop,” he said to Monster as though proud of the reaction that the two of them had gotten from her.
Her lips parted, breath shaky. “I—” It seemed as though the only sound she could make was the squeak that came from her lips. What was it about these two men that had her hot and nervous all at the same time?
The rest of what she planned on saying vanished into a gasp as Drifter kissed her, not rushed, not bruising, but deep and lingering.
His tongue coaxed hers into a lazy rhythm that made her knees weak.
At the same time, Monster dragged her hair gently to the side, his mouth finding the tender spot just below her ear.
He kissed her, hot and unhurried, before sucking just enough to make her moan into Drifter’s mouth.
Two sets of hands explored her at once. Drifter slid his big hands down her body to find her nipples, rubbing them until they peaked tight and needy.
Monster’s hands worked lower, splaying over her stomach before dipping beneath the waistband of her jeans, fingers brushing the edge of her panties.
She arched between them, caught in their rhythm, surrounded by leather and heat.
“Tell us what you want,” Monster whispered, slipping his fingers lower until he found her damp heat through the thin lace. He pressed there, slow circles, making her body shudder with need.
“She doesn’t have to say a damn thing,” Drifter murmured, his mouth moving to her other breast, sucking the tight bud into his mouth while his hand teased the first. “Her body has already told us.”
“I need these handcuffs off,” Monster grumbled. He quickly found the key and unlocked the cuffs, freeing them. “Now I can use both hands,” he said, bobbing his eyebrows at Blitz, causing her to giggle.
Monster pushed her jeans down inch by inch, taking his time, letting the scrape of fabric heighten her anticipation. When his fingers slipped beneath the lace and finally touched her bare, wet skin, she cried out, clutching at Drifter’s shoulders for balance.
“That’s it,” Monster growled against her ear, sliding one thick finger inside her, curling it just right. “So wet for us.”
Drifter lifted his head, lips glistening. “Lean back on the desk,” he ordered softly. “Let us taste you.” Blitz couldn’t help but moan at the thought of them doing just that to her girl parts.
Pinned between them, she obeyed, every nerve alive, every breath ragged as though she had just run a marathon.
Drifter’s mouth claimed hers again while Monster worked her open from behind, slow and relentless, coaxing her higher and higher.
Together they moved with her, not rushing—drawing out every sound, every shiver, every surrender.
The office was filled with the sound of low moans, rough breaths, and the scrape of their teeth on Blitz’s skin.
Out in the club, the Halloween party seemed to get started early, oblivious as to what was going on between the three of them back in Monster’s office.
In here, she was theirs—caught between two men who knew exactly how to ruin her for anyone else.
The air felt too thick to breathe, their heat pressing in from both sides. She clung to Drifter’s shoulders, lips parted, as Monster’s fingers worked her open with unhurried precision, teasing her just to the brink before easing back. It was maddening—every touch calculated to unravel her.
“On the desk,” Drifter murmured, his voice a gravelly command.
Monster’s hands were already at her hips, lifting, guiding.
She let them finish stripping her bare, jeans and panties tugged down until she stepped out of them, heart hammering in her chest. The scarred wood of the desk was cool under her thighs as Drifter eased her back against it, his mouth covering hers again, slower now, like he had all the time in the world.
Between her legs, Monster knelt, his beard rasping her inner thighs as he kissed higher, higher—then finally dragged his tongue through her slick folds. She jerked with a strangled cry, hands fisting in Drifter’s sweatshirt.
“Fuck, she tastes even better than I imagined,” Monster growled against her, his tongue circling her clit before sliding lower, deeper.
Drifter caught her chin, forcing her dazed eyes back on him. “Watch me while he eats you,” he ordered, stroking himself slowly through his jeans.
Her moan vibrated against his lips as Monster devoured her with steady, deliberate strokes, tongue and fingers working in tandem until her thighs shook around his head.
Drifter bent to take one aching nipple into his mouth.
His teeth grazed, then soothed with his tongue, pulling another broken sound from her throat.
She came hard on Monster’s tongue, trembling against Drifter’s chest, but neither man relented.
Monster rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes burning.
“Bend her over,” he ordered. Monster seemed to be the one calling the shots, and that worked for Blitz.
She liked them both bossy, and neither of them disappointed her in any way.
Drifter’s smirk was feral. He spun her gently, pressing her chest to the desk, her ass high.
Monster freed himself, thick and hard, and lined up behind her.
His hand pressed the small of her back as he eased in, inch by inch, filling her slowly, stretching her until she gasped and clawed at the wood beneath her palms.
“Good girl,” Monster rasped, driving deep until he bottomed out. He pulled back just as slowly, then pressed forward again, every thrust unhurried, deliberate, making her feel every inch of him.
Drifter stood in front of her, stroking himself as he watched. “Open your mouth, honey.” She did, lips wrapping around him as he slid inside, slow and thick across her tongue. He groaned low, hands fisting in her hair as he guided her to take him deeper.
Pinned between them, she was surrounded, claimed.
Monster’s hips rocked into her from behind in a steady rhythm, his cock dragging against her walls while Drifter thrust into her mouth, filling her throat with every controlled movement.
Her muffled cries vibrated against Drifter, making him curse under his breath, while Monster’s growl deepened with every slick thrust. Their pace built together, perfectly in sync—one driving into her heat, the other fucking her mouth, using her, worshipping her, ruining her for all other men.
She came again, harder this time, body clenching around Monster’s cock and, nearly choking on Drifter’s thickness as her cries were swallowed down.
Neither stopped, not until Monster’s thrust grew rougher, Drifter’s grip tightened, and both spilled into her with ragged groans—Monster buried deep inside her, while Drifter’s seed spilled across her tongue, their releases hot and overwhelming.
When it was over, the office was thick with sweat and the raw edge of satisfaction. She sagged against the desk, dazed and trembling, lips swollen, skin marked by their mouths and hands. Drifter cupped her chin, tilting her face up to meet his satisfied smirk. “You’re ours now.”
Monster leaned in from behind, his breath rough against her ear. “Both of ours.”