Chapter Twelve #4
Chiron’s gaze roams my body with avid interest. My shoulders remain defined with quiet strength, my breasts full and heavy under his appraisal.
His hand trails up my arm and slides to cup my breast, his thumb gently swiping across the nipple there.
The sensation of his hot and callused fingers is divine.
I close my eyes to his touch. He does this again, on the other side, watching, and then tasting the peaks there for himself.
The wet kisses and licks he leaves on each send waves of sensation through me. I am ice melting beneath a warm body.
I feel Wren as he moves to stand behind me.
A weight I didn’t even know I carried lifts when he presses himself against my back.
He trails light kisses across my neck, curious and open.
I hear the rustle of cloth, but I feel what has occurred when Chiron steps into me.
His hot skin on mine is almost otherworldly, like stepping into flames but not being burned.
Chiron turns us to the bed, and I follow.
Wren tentatively removes his own tunic, folding it over the table nearby, and joins us there, remaining behind me, close.
He trails his kisses around my shoulders, moving my hair away gently and to the side.
We all lie on our sides now. And Chiron positions himself in front of me and fills my mouth with his tongue once again.
The feel of being between them is exquisite, pressed between two solid walls of body. I reach my hand back to Wren, holding his head to my neck as he sucks lightly, such a strong contrast to the bites and licks from Chiron. His hair is soft, so incredibly soft in my hand.
Chiron’s hands find my breasts again, and his fingers skillfully rub and flick at my nipples, eliciting a breathy whimper from me.
“You like the feel of my fingers on your breasts, Netta? You enjoy being played with…teased.” His voice is soft but full of need.
I whisper, “Yes.” And “More” against his lips. He meets my urgency with his own, grinding his hips against me, and the ache builds between my thighs, bidding them enter. I can feel the hardness of them both, Wren at the globes of my bottom and Chiron at my belly.
The length of him in front of me is breathtaking.
Veined and crowned, shiny at the head with wetness, with seed.
When his hand moves to stroke the length, my need grows hotter, wetter.
I raise my leg and rest it over his waist, opening myself to him.
His eyes are so dark now, shining only with the movement down my body.
Wren’s hands reach around my waist, sliding from my soft tummy and lower still.
His long fingers part me as his tongue swipes and sucks at the lobe of my ear.
Everything is building inside of me. His fingers swipe across my clit with gentle probes, and I whimper at the ministration.
He circles the swollen bud there, gently and rhythmically.
Chiron’s eyes are locked on the space between my thighs, on Wren’s fingers, and my exposed sex.
“Netta, such a pretty cunt.” He whispers as he lines up his cock with my slick entrance.
Chiron’s advance is gentle to start, and the pressure is incredible.
I arch my hips toward him, seeking the fullness I know will come.
I can feel Wren move his hand to his own cock now, stroking it deftly, the head gliding across my backside with each pass of his fist. The idea of him behind me, slaking his own thirst, is absolutely carnal—I wish I could see him.
Chiron breeches my body now in earnest. His eyes are closed to us now, and his conscious mind is gone to himself. Because now Chiron ruts. Each thrust slams my body back into Wren. His hand squeezes the flesh of my hips, enjoying the feel of the plump skin under his grasp.
Our breathing is a cacophony of whimpers, moans, and grunts.
Wren’s fingers find my clit again, and this time they press and tap there in a circular motion.
The intensity of being so full and the pressure of Wren’s skilled hands break any composure I was still trying to maintain because my legs begin to tremble and my eyes roll to the back of my head before I close them.
My whimpers crest to moans as I writhe. My channel contracts around Chiron’s length, and the groans that escape him are burnished into my memory forevermore.
Wren whispers incoherently at my neck, his hand moving faster behind me now. I feel the warmth of his climax at my back, washing over my skin. When Chiron follows, I can feel it from inside of me. His cock swells, and he pumps in short, harsh ministrations.
“Take it, take it” is whispered into my skin, a chant they both make, an echo. When he is spent, he frees himself of my body with care.
The emptiness I feel at his departure is erotic of its own accord, my senses alight in ways untested until now. I am languid. But he pulls his body closer to mine, chest against chest, his lips leaving soft kisses on my brow.
His hand is on Wren, holding us together.
Chiron is always holding us together.
When the sweat cools on our skin, I do not move from here, none of us do. Hours pass. Chiron and Wren whisper soft words of praise to me,
“You are everything. You are incredible.”
Nothing has ever been this right.
I am full of all the feelings between us. I drift to my oblivion.
…