Chapter 68 - Wolfson #2
“Don’t you dare.” He presses in behind me and drags his hot, steel length along the cleft of my ass. “I’m going to feel so good inside you.” His grip on my dick tightens, kicking the air from my lungs. “You’ll beg me to fuck you, day and night.”
If he triggers me, it’ll suck big ones. But after writing the journal and reliving it with Dove, the demons have been unusually quiet. Maybe we slew them.
Dove digs her feet into the seat’s edge, her heavy-lidded eyes tracking Jag’s stroking fist as her hand slips between her legs.
Sexy little voyeur.
Draped over my back, Jag nips along my shoulder and ruts against my backside, the length of him rubbing against the underside of my balls. My hips kick, answering his thrusts, and he chases it, fucking me without penetration.
It’s maddening and cruel. Fucking hell, why do I want him to fuck me so badly? I know what that feels like, the pain and helplessness. Yet somehow, I know it won’t be anything like that with him.
“Fuck me, you fucker.” I grind back against him, throbbing and leaking in the vise-like grip of his fist. “Do it.”
“Too soon for begging, pup.” The hand on my nape caresses down my spine, trying and failing to calm me.
“Then kiss me.”
His hands fly to my waist and flip me to my back.
Panting, I stare up at him, at this rough-hewn beast of a man carved by a vindictive god and dropped onto my lap. His brown hair spikes in every direction, wrecked in the best way, and his chest heaves, flexing with each breath, restraint ready to unleash.
He shifts forward. The bed dips, and his solid weight settles where my greedy hunger lengthens and throbs.
His throat flexes as he lowers his chest to mine and pauses. His bedroom eyes wander to Dove, and his pupils expand, dark and molten.
Before I can follow his gaze, he turns back and destroys me with his mouth.
The kiss steals my air, my control, and my very last brain cell. He’s a windstorm of aggression and masculinity, all challenge and domination, lips dragging and teeth scraping, stretching my jaw past the point of pain.
He tongue-fucks my mouth, showing me how thoroughly he intends to fuck me with his cock. I open for him, taking everything he gives me and claiming him right back.
Too soon, he rips himself away and lifts on his knees, his dick angry and engorged, drooling precome down the veiny length.
Reaching for the lube, he squirts a generous glob onto my tip and slathers it down to my nuts.
Shouldn’t he be greasing himself? He’s on top. He is a top.
“What are you doing?” I grip his hand, where it wraps around my base.
An infuriating curl plucks at his lips as he angles my dick beneath him and slowly lowers onto it.
My breath stops. My back arches, and my hands claw at his thighs.
That initial push past his tight ring of muscle… I choke. Then I groan. Then I release a howling roar of pleasure.
Dammit to hell, he’s tight. Too tight. I can’t fucking breathe. I’m on the brink of passing out.
“Hold still.” He grits his teeth, sinking lower, impaling himself deeper.
“Jag… Fuck.” I thicken inside him, pulsing and jumping, unable to control my reaction. “I’m hurting you.”
“You’re not. It’s…” He fists his dick, seats himself to the root, and groans long and deep. “Goddamn, Wolf. I feel you in my fucking ribs.”
A whimper sounds beside us, and we both turn our heads.
Dove’s legs have fallen open, stopped only by the arms of the chair. She frantically rubs her soaked cunt with one hand, the fingers of her other caught between her teeth. Her tits bounce with the rapid bursts of her breath, and her eyes glaze with lust.
“That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Unable to look away, Jag blindly reaches for my nipple and tweaks it as ruthlessly as he beats his cock.
By the grace of slapping gonads, I’m about to be feral.
I bite down on a hiss and clench every muscle in the world’s greatest effort to stave off premature ejaculation.
Then Jag rolls his hips.
Merciless gods.
His abs ripple, pulling him into a sensual motion. He puts his back into it, surging forward and grinding down, arms flexing as he clasps his fingers behind his neck, elbows bent outward like wings.
He rides me like that, letting me watch the flex and play of his muscles and the straining bob of his cock, giving me the most erotic lap dance in existence. Nipples drawn tight, sweat slicking his skin, he’s a masterpiece of brawn and shadow.
And his eye contact? It’s fucking electric.
He sets a wicked tempo, bearing down and squeezing his ass with each thrust. Lift, tighten, sink, grind. Over and over, the motion hits. The friction sparks. I’m barely hanging on.
His cock nods against his abs. So I grab it with both hands and work him into a panting, growling, rutting animal. His thighs tense against my sides, power coiling, his control unfurling. He shifts, breath breaking and chin dropping as his hands clamp onto my wrists to slow my strokes.
Then a third pair of hands is there. Smaller. Softer.
Dove’s face comes into view above me, close enough to feel her breath before her mouth covers mine. She kisses me hard, and I kiss her back, my arms coming up to hold her for just one more greedy moment.
She pulls away, attention turning, and crawls toward Jag.
His movements slow to a stop as he captures her neck and hauls her to his mouth. He consumes her lips savagely, groaning into the kiss, thrusting his hips, digging hard, and driving me deeper inside him.
When they break apart, I surge up between them. Moving on instinct, I grip his ass, lift him, and drop him to his back.
He lands on the mattress, eyes locked on mine. With my cock rammed deep, it’s a vulnerable position, one I never imagined putting him in.
“Is this okay?” I reach out and trace his beautiful, seductive mouth.
“Yes, until you’re shaking.” He bites my finger.
“Until we’re all shaking.” I brace my hands on the backs of his thighs and spread him open.
Then I look at Dove.
Her smile comes fast and breathless, her pupils swallowing her honey eyes.
She leans over Jag’s face, wraps a hand around his erection, and kisses him until he’s panting against her mouth. I rock forward, pistoning into him, and quickly catch a rhythm that will send us both spiraling.
After a moment, Dove changes positions, turning to put her face where her hand is. She lowers her head, studies Jag’s dick, and draws him into her mouth.
His entire body stiffens beneath me, his ass muscles clamping viciously around my invasion.
“Holy fuck, Jag.” My thrusts grow erratic as I pump and grind with abandon. “I’m going to come.”
“Sit on my face, Dove.” He swats her butt. Then slaps it again impatiently. “Now.”
She swings her backside around, straddles his head, and pushes her pussy against his mouth.
A vibrating hum escapes her lips, half-muffled by the cock slamming into her throat.
We don’t last long.
I drive into him mercilessly while he thrusts into her mouth and devours her cunt, making all my 69-train dreams come true.
My fingers tangle in her hair, flexing and releasing, as heaven edges closer and closer.
Jag cups her ass, spreading her open for his plunging tongue as she works his cock with lips and fists.
Drawing him to the back of her throat, she scoops her fingers under his balls and runs her knuckles along the top of my shaft, setting me off.
“I’m coming.” I slam into him, growling and jerking.
He’s growling, too, right against her cunt. She follows us, swallowing him through her moans and writhing on his chest.
The sloppy wet sounds of our orgasms settle through the room as we slow our bodies and collapse in a boneless pile.
“I need a second after that.” Jag drapes a leg over mine and an arm across Dove’s chest.
“That was insane.” She rests a hand on his forearm, trying to catch her breath.
“I felt that everywhere.” I roll into Jag’s side and pinch his nipple. “Pretty sure I got you pregnant.”
“You’re obnoxious.” He wheezes through a laugh.
“I’m your favorite fella.” I drop my chest onto his and dig a knuckle into his ribs. “Say it.”
“I love you.”
We both freeze as the words leave him, our gazes intertwined and searching.
I clap a hand over his mouth and put my face in his. “You can’t take it back.”
He pries my fingers away and releases a labored breath. “I love you, Wolfson Strakh.”
“That’s convenient, because I’m utterly in love with you. It’s a healthy obsession. Yours. Not mine.”
We both look at Dove.
Propped on an elbow, she presses her fingers to her mouth as her eyes fill with shiny, happy tears.
“I love you, Little Bird.” Jag strokes her thigh.
“Yes. We all love one another. Group hug.” I gather them into my arms and tackle them to the bed in a shower of kisses and laughter.