55. Maverick
Chapter 55
Maverick
Callie’s moans go straight to my cock—needy, ragged little sounds that vibrate in my chest and settle low in my gut.
She’s stretched out between us, so fucking perfect I could lose my mind.
My cock slides into her again, slow and smooth, glistening. Every time I pull out, I watch her grip down, greedy for more, like her body’s begging me not to stop.
Fucking her with deep, steady thrusts, I slide my fingers down to her entrance, feeling where she stretches around me. Then, carefully, I press the tip where she’s wrapped tightly around my length.
She chokes on a moan, still latched around Colt’s cock, but doesn’t let go.
God, she’s a dream.
Her spine’s hot against my palm as I run it in soothing arcs, waiting for her to settle before adding a second finger.
I want to see how much she can take. I want to push her until she’s crying on both our cocks, until her pretty pussy takes us together.
She’s stretched wide, taking my every thrust, and I damn near come when she rocks back into them.
“Holy fuck.” I have to clench every muscle to keep myself from spilling into her.
With each of our thrusts, her moans turn louder, greedy, needy sounds as she rocks between us.
“You want him buried inside of you, don’t you, Wildflower,” I rasp. She whimpers, pussy clenching around me.
“Colt,” I say, taking my time thrusting in before continuing. “You hear our girl? She wants your cock.”
Colt’s eyes go molten. He lifts her legs around his waist as she clings to him, her face buried in his neck. I slip free when he shifts, but I don’t mind, not with what comes next.
He kisses her in easy, languid motions like he has all the time in the world to devour her. I nuzzle her neck, licking a path up the column and kissing the sensitive spot behind her ear as I anchor her with a firm grip on her waist.
Colt lines himself up, and she gasps, nails biting into his shoulders, and I can see it—all of it. The way her face morphs with pleasure. The way her whole body trembles like she’s seconds from breaking.
We’re just getting started.
Colt thrusts up into her once. Twice. Her breath catches, a soft whimper leaving her lips, her thighs twitching around his waist.
I grip her ass and guide her up, giving him room to pull out. He does it slowly, his cock dragging against her walls.
I press in behind. I drag my cock through her slick folds, nudging against her opening where she’s still quivering and wet from taking him.
She gasps as I enter her, twice, three times, before pulling out. Colt’s already there, cock burying itself into her in one smooth thrust. She takes us one by one as we take turns fucking her.
Her back arches, and she mutters a strangled “Please—God, please.”
Colt leans his forehead against hers, keeping his length deep inside. “You want both of us, Sunshine?”
She nods, wild and desperate. “Yes. Please. More.”
Her need cuts through me like a blade as I begin to push in alongside Colt.
“Fuck,” I grit out, inching deeper, feeling him right there with me, our lengths rubbing together inside her. She lets out a sobbing moan, caught somewhere between pain and bliss.
Her walls clamp down, greedy and tight.
“So fucking perfect,” I hiss, hips working in slow, measured thrusts until I’m fully seated.
Colt’s eyes are squeezed shut, holding her up like he’s the only thing tethering her to earth.
She’s trembling, gasping, tears streaking her cheeks as she grips his shoulders like she’ll fall apart if she lets go.
We’re not moving yet. Just breathing. Adjusting.
Together.
Callie’s trembling between us, so full she can barely speak, but the sounds she’s making—soft, broken gasps—say everything.
“Breathe, Wildflower,” I murmur, voice low against the shell of her ear. “You’re doing so good.”
Colt shifts beneath her, his hands steadying her hips, his jaw clenched like he’s barely hanging on. She whimpers when he flexes upward, the small movement forcing her to take us both a little deeper.
“God,” she gasps, nails digging into his shoulders.
“That’s both of us, Sunshine,” Colt grits out.
I start to move, slow at first—just a shallow rock of my hips, feeling the thick pressure where we’re both inside her. Her body tightens, fluttering around us like it’s too much, but she’s still begging for more.
“You take us so well,” I whisper, kissing her shoulder. “So fucking perfect like this. Made for it.”
She moans, long and high, her back arching, and I thrust again, deeper this time. Colt holds steady as I fuck into her, his eyes locked on mine over her shoulder.
She’s crying now, not from pain but from the kind of overwhelming pleasure that breaks people open. Her walls pulse around us both, and she sobs as her orgasm hits hard, wild and beautiful.
“Oh my God,” she gasps, trembling. “Oh my God, I—I can’t?—”
“You can,” I growl, fucking her through it. “You’re perfect. You’re fucking perfect.”
Colt chokes out a broken noise and jerks up into her, and I feel it—feel him, feel her—feel us.
That’s what undoes me.
I slam into her one last time and come hard, thick and hot, buried inside her, buried against him.
Colt lets go right after, a low groan tearing out of his throat, his hands clutching her tighter as his hips twitch.
We breathe like we’ve been drowning—mouths open, chests heaving, our bodies still locked together.
Callie’s shaking between us, sweat-slick and glowing, and I press my lips to her spine. Colt strokes her thigh, murmuring her name like a prayer.
When I finally ease back, I slide out with a wet sound and watch our cum leak from her, thick and messy.
I gather some on my fingers and push it right back in. “No spilling a fucking drop,” I say softly.
She nods, dazed and trembling, and Colt kisses her jaw, brushing her hair out of her face.
We hold her there—pressed between us—until her heartbeat slows, until our breath evens out, until there’s nothing left but the quiet aftermath and the three of us, tangled and undone in the best fucking way.