Chapter 30 Wren
WREN
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.
Sin’s cock is a godsend. My core is throbbing, hot, wet, and beyond needy. I’ve never felt so out of my mind before. I need to come. I desperately need…
His hand twitches around my throat, and I’m a goner. My orgasm is long and drawn out and so much more than I ever imagined possible. I have to abandon myself to it because fighting the overload is impossible.
When I can breathe again, Sin is over me, so serious, so intense…
I reach for him, and he leans in, letting me brush my thumb over his chin, his bottom lip, catching on his lower teeth. The nip he gives me sends a new riot of pleasure surging through me.
Sin only grunts. Intent.
I love that about him. His singular minded focus, and it’s all aimed at me.
Pleasure builds, slower and hotter than before. The slap of his hips against my wet thighs echoes in the small office. The sound is obscene, but I can’t say it doesn’t excite me.
A few harsh breaths behind me is a reminder that Sin isn’t the only one to torture me. Doc and Saint will have their turns again, and the thought of too much more has me shaking. Can I handle all three of them at once?
The burn in my center says I can. And I’m willing to try.
Sin gives me another squeeze around my throat before he shifts and his other hand sinks between us to stroke my clit. My entire body jerks in response, air gushing out of my lungs.
So much. Too much.
Limbs shaking, I scramble for purchase against him. My hips circle, searching for some kind of relief.
Sin doesn’t relent, pinching my clit—making me scramble. The tortuous noise that tears out of me isn’t a battle. It’s the first part of giving in.
My punishment has only begun, and already I can feel more of him than I thought possible. Every sensitive part of me tightens, braces, and pulls me further. I’m craving now instead of simply seeking relief.
And it explodes with sparks through my vision.
Sin slams home, tilts my hips up and presses into me so deep, I’m not even sure how I’m taking him. It’s on the threshold of pain. There’s so much sensation.
Little black dots that make reality waver.
His thumb brushes my chin, palm shifting off my throat, and he’s bent closer because his words land across my mouth. “Breathe.”
I try and fail, sucking in air and choking on it.
“Breathe.”
I count in my head, slowly, finally pulling in a lungful of air.
Sin smiles down at me, squeezing my breast and tugging on my nipple. Pleasure and need zings again, pooling in my middle.
Then, he’s upright, changing the angle of him inside me. His thrusts are shallow as my knees draw together.
I’m surprised when he holds them against his chest. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was taking it easy on me. Even as he plants a kiss on my ankle, I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. These men are not the type to let sentimentality and emotions keep them from a task.
His hand presses into my belly, sinking lower, and this thumb finds my clit again. The friction is too much immediately, and my thighs try to close him off from reaching it. I fail, he swipes and circles and rubs until I’m writhing.
The dark look in his eyes has this one building even faster. Because he’s not even close.
I’m fucked. The world is only starting to tremble when he pulls out of me. Three fingers slip inside, and he’s backing away with a smirk.
Before my legs can droop, Doc’s hands are on me. His smile is more sinister than I’m used to. His touch is soothing, but I know better. Doc is sweet and soft and sensitive, but he’s still a man. He’s still part of Sanctuary. He still harbors darkness of a different kind.
Doc slides his cock between my thighs, rubbing against me in a slow, drawn-out tease. His eyes sparkle when my breath hitches. Every nerve is still lit up.
He taps the head of his cock against my clit a few times, making me gasp and twitch, before he hums. “Sweet, little bird. You don’t look like you regret sneaking out without permission. Guess we have some work to do.”
“Those weren’t the rules.” I had to have someone with me when I left. They never said I had to have permission to leave, just a guard.
“When Buzz left you there, it broke the rules.” Saint’s low, no nonsense tone spreads goosebumps down my arms and legs.
I bite my lip and shoot a glance his way. I can’t argue with that, and the way his arms cross over his chest says he knows as much.
I let out a shaky breath and close my eyes. These three are going to drive me half out of my mind.
Doc brings me back to him by splaying me open with his tip, more teasing until he’s coated in my juices. He’s thrusting inside me the next second.
It’s a jolt to my system, the slow but not soft motion of his hips. I’m quaking in under a minute as he strokes my thighs, my hips, my waist. Doc bends to plant kisses along my ribs before he takes one of my nipples into his mouth.
Stretching my pleasure taut, my muscles strain and a light fluttering starts in my middle. Pain redirects me with the pinch of his teeth, and more blooms. I swear every time they do this, we break a new record with my body.
I have no idea what my limits are.
Doc peers up at me as he works my nipple, like he can tell I need pushing. A promise lingers in his gaze. He latches onto my other nipple, gently circling his finger around the one he just released, and a cry escapes me.
I clamp down on him, making him use more force with his hips to keep his cadence. Bliss burns through me before I shatter. My body tries to fold in on itself, but Doc is there, lathing and sucking and pumping until my nails threaten to pierce through his shirt at his shoulders.
After a few agonizing moments, he releases me and slows. I’m breathing heavy when my back hits the desk again.
But my feet drop, and Doc is hauling me upright.
A languid, possessive kiss has me holding onto him for dear life. I can feel the fear and frustration with me, but when I wince a little at the way he twists my head to the side to delve deeper, he retreats an inch.
“You okay?”
I nod, and he strokes over my shoulder, avoiding the gruesome stitches he gave me not long ago. Doc plants a soft kiss there, and I shiver.
“Good. Now, turn around.” His voice is low and husky, making me promises.
I wobble in his grip as I face Saint and Sin, both of them taking me in with laser focus.
“Down on your stomach.” Doc guides me down across the desktop with a hand between my shoulder blades. His palm stays there, burning against my skin with a delicious heat as he runs his head through my folds in a steady stroke.
I lift to my toes, trying to capture him with my core, but he gives me a solid smack on the ass in admonishment.
It battles back the oversensitivity enough to keep my muscles fighting to still.
After another languid few strokes, Doc slides home, filling me completely. The slight delay has me bearing down on him, twitching with need. My hands grasp the edge of the desk as he sinks in, mixing his thrusts with grinding against my ass.
Then, his hand slips down between my cheeks, and I stiffen as his thumb finds my other hole, stroking it lightly. And surprise, it sends new throbbing through my core.
I’d heard of women liking this…but I never thought…
I should have known better. My men are like concert masters, plucking my strings and building me to a crescendo with ease.
A breathy moan escapes me. My eyes pinch close as Doc strokes and presses and strokes, matching the thrust of his hips.
Muscles tighten across my shoulders, but the twinges of pain keep me grounded as a new climax builds. The pleasure spreads instead of concentrates.
When he breaches that hole with the tip of his thumb, I go rigid, but he doesn’t push any further, his other hand stroking down my side, my spine. “Relax, bird. I’m not going to hurt you.”
I nod into the backs of my hands and try to do as he says. Relax. It’s difficult as his thumb twitches and rubs. My hips arch a little as I unclench, and god that pressure is threatening to unravel me in a new way.
Doc pulls his touch away as I reach the brink. His other hand coaxes me up from where I’m hiding my face, my blush combating with the overheating of the rest of me.
“Come here.” He practically growls it, as my back arches and his hand comes around the base of my throat. His touch is different from Sin’s, not meant to ground me or dominate, but to support me. “Palms on the desk.”
I do as instructed, palms planted, breasts swinging with the thrust of his hips.
Now, I’m face to face with Sin as he lounges in the chair opposite me, hand slowly stroking his cock. A promise. I’ll be taking him again before they’re done with me.
That thought shoves a shiver down my spine, the pinch of pain in my shoulder grounding me again in reality.
“Okay?” Doc asks, mouth to my ear.
I nod, words reaching my lips but unable to make themselves heard. Yes. More. Please.
Saint shifts in my vision, arms still crossed, muscles tight and bunching from restraint as his gaze homes in on my breasts.
My elbows squeeze them together, nipples hardening from the weight of their swings, the cold air tightening my skin.
Saint’s hazel eyes snap up to meet mine. The desire, the wanton need I see there makes my elbows wobble, weaken.
But Doc’s hand is there again for support, pulling me back even further, arching my back until my shoulders meet his chest. He’s so deep now, pushing to the very ends of me until I struggle to pull in a full breath.
His forearm settles between my breasts as he holds me in place, the pleasure so profound that I struggle to keep my eyes open, to maintain focus.
A groan vibrates against my back, hot breath across my scalp, teeth pinching my flesh.
I’m barely holding on, my core contracting around his invading cock.
The world implodes behind my eyes as I come again, wringing myself on Doc’s cock and how he nudges against the ends of me. My body spasms, I’ve lost control, and finally I give into it. The pleasure is a heavy wave.
Everything stills, and slowly I return to the office, to the three men who take care of me, protect me, and punish me.
Gaping and gasping, I’m rewarded with Doc’s gentle strokes before he releases his hold, lowering me back to the desk and rubbing my tense muscles before he relinquishes me to Saint.
Doc hasn’t come yet either.
I’m in so much trouble, while having so little strength left.
But when Saint’s arms come around me, I don’t feel tired. Not with the way he pivots me in his arms and slants his mouth across mine. His kiss is all consuming. All I can do is hold on, hands grasping at his shirt even though I don’t need to do anything to support myself.
My husband has me.
Gathered in his arms, he sits and settles me in his lap, his jeans rough against the sensitive insides of my thighs.
“Take me out.” His gruff command makes me shiver.
I reach between us to unbutton his jeans, lower his zipper, and wrap my hand around his straining cock. So hard. Throbbing against my palm.
Saint’s hands cup my ass, a small pat as instruction. “Up.”
I lift myself as much as possible.
“Lower yourself on me like a good girl.”
The order makes me wetter—if that’s even possible. It takes two tries, swiping him through my folds before I can notch him in place. Working myself down on him takes a few thrusts and practically all my reserves before I sink down over him.
The stretch is exquisite.
Saint cups my face, searching my gaze for a long moment. “Mmm. Still not repentant, are you, wife? This is going to be one hell of a lesson for you.”
The threat is soft, similar to when he spanked me. This is an outlet for his worries.
How badly did he react when he knew I’d been gone? Did he have time to worry? Really? With Sin right behind me?
If he hadn’t been, I imagine this would all be so much worse.
Saint’s forearm is a hard band across my lower back, rough palm at the back of my thigh, and his hips pump up once, twice, thrice, and I’m shaking already.
His legs spread to maintain our balance as he rocks us together, forehead to mine.
I thought he might take me angrily, but I should have known better. For all his bark, all his bite, he cradles me against him like I’m something precious. Something more than the wife forced upon him by circumstance.
As gentle as he is with me, he’s relentless in his aim to ring out another orgasm from my overheated, abused core.
My fingers filter through his salt and pepper hair, finally able to touch back, to show him how much this means.
Because it does mean something. What exactly, I’m still not so sure. My hopes, though, they’re soaring as high and as fast as my impending orgasm.
He grunts against my mouth.
Since I know his goal, I give him what he wants, handing over control, sinking into his hips, taking every inch, every thrust, every pounding beat against my womb. And when I finally succumb, shaking and pulsing and coming so hard, his soft words reach me.
“Don’t ever run from me again.”