22. Bianca #2
Gideon, in front of me, drags himself slow across my tongue. Once. Twice. Letting me adjust.
I take him deeper on the third pass, and he lets out a low, primal groan.
“There you go, baby,” Ander says. He’s moved onto the side of the bed now, half-sitting on the edge of the mattress, the angle giving him a perfect view of both of his brothers and me between them.
I bring my right hand up to Gideon’s thigh. The muscle is strong and hard under my palm. He shudders.
Theo moves faster. Out. In. Out. In.
His hands on my hips guide me back onto him on the next one, and I push back, and he gives me a little more.
Gideon’s hand at the back of my head, and I work him with my mouth in time with Theo’s hips. Every thrust from behind pushes me forward onto Gideon’s cock, every drag back pulls me off him. The two of them have found a rhythm without speaking.
Ander has not stopped talking.
“That’s it. Look at you, baby. You’re taking it so good. Theo, harder. She can take harder.”
Theo gives me harder.
My knees brace wider. Theo’s thrusts are deeper now, and they’re pushing me forward onto Gideon’s cock with more force, and Gideon is no longer letting me set the pace. His hand has tightened in my hair. His hips have started to move.
I am being fucked from both ends.
“Bianca,” Gideon bites out. “I’m not going to last. You’re so fucking good.”
I hum around him, making his hips jerk forward. His cock goes deeper, and I take it.
“Fuck.” His head drops back. “Fuck. Fuck.”
Theo, behind me, has gone harder again. His thumb finds my clit. He circles me in time with his hips, and the heat that I thought had emptied out of me is climbing again, faster, a second wave building on top of the original one.
A moan vibrates out of me around Gideon’s cock.
The heat between my thighs builds and builds, and I push back harder against Theo. He gives me more, and Gideon’s hand fists tighter in my hair, and the pull at the base of me snaps.
I come again, harder this time.
My knees buckle on the mattress. Theo’s hand at my hip is the only thing keeping my knees from collapsing. The clench of me around his cock pulls him over the edge with me on the next thrust.
He buries himself deep and goes motionless. The pulse of him into me is hot and long, and his fingers dig into my hipbones.
All of us are making noises, none of them are coherent.
In front of me, Gideon’s hand in my hair holds me where he wants me, and he comes in my mouth. I take all of it, and his thigh under my palm trembles, while his hand pulls my hair.
The wave keeps rolling through me even after both of them are spent. Theo is buried in me, hot and pulsing. Gideon is on my tongue, softer now.
When I come down, I’m breathing through my nose, and Gideon’s thumb is on the corner of my mouth, gentle now, easing himself out.
I lick my lips.
Behind me, Theo pulls out slowly. The friction of him coming out of me makes me whine into the duvet. His palm passes up my spine, and he leans down and kisses the back of my shoulder, and his breath is shaking against my skin.
“You are fucking unbelievable,” he says.
I’m about to collapse forward onto the duvet when a third pair of hands lands at my waist from the side of the bed.
Ander.
“Up, baby,” he commands. “You’re not done. I’m not done.”
And then he lifts me.
He hauls me off the bed. His hands hook under my thighs, and my legs wrap around his hips on reflex. My chest hits his chest.
He is already walking. “I have been so hard watching the two of them fuck you, and I need to come.”
He carries me three steps to the wall across from the bed. The dresser is to my left. The wall is bare. My back hits the cool plaster, and the temperature shock makes a small sound escape me.
He braces me with his hips against the wall, both hands free. My thighs are around his waist. His length is pressing against the bare skin of my stomach, hot and hard and wet at the tip.
Theo and Gideon are on the bed, neither of them moving.
Ander grins at them over my shoulder. “My turn.”
He shifts me up his body half an inch. His cock notches at my entrance.
“You can take me, baby?” His voice is rough and filled with need.
I’m so wet that the head of his cock has already slipped in. “Yes. Fuck me, Ander.”
He sinks in.
The stretch is its own thing. He goes in slow at the start, slower than I want, his eyes locked on my face the whole way down.
“Holy fuck. Your pussy is dripping.”
I drag my nails down the back of his neck and roll my hips into him.
The opening stroke is unhurried. The second is not. The third is hard, and the fourth is harder. And by the fifth, he has me pinned to the wall with both hands under my thighs. My back braced against the plaster, and he is fucking me with every ounce of restraint gone.
He drives in.
His teeth are on the soft skin where my pulse is, sucking. His hands are under my thighs, lifting me, dropping me, lifting me again. The plaster behind me has gone warm where my back is pressed against it. His chest is damp from sweat where my breasts are dragging against his skin.
“I love you,” he says, against my throat. He is not slowing down to say it. He is saying it in the middle of fucking me up against a wall. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you,” I gasp. “I love you, Ander.”
He grins and then shifts the angle on the next stroke. He hooks his hands under the backs of my knees and pulls them higher, and my whole body settles down onto him, and the new angle puts him so deep that a cry tears out of me.
“My cock is so deep, and your pussy is taking all of it,” he bites out. “Open your eyes, Bianca.”
I don’t remember closing them. I open them.
“I’m gonna come,” he says. “I’m gonna come, and you’re coming with me.”
Even if I wanted to hold back, I wouldn’t be able to.
He drives in deep, tilting so his hip bone creates friction against my clit.
I come on his cock pinned against a wall, and Ander comes with me. The pulse of him into me is long and hot, and his arms cage me against the plaster. We’re shaking, and the only sound in the room is the two of us breathing the same ragged breaths.
The pulse of it rolls through me for what could be a minute. Could be ten. His chest is heaving against mine. The wall behind me is the only thing holding me up except his arms, which have not loosened a single inch.
“Holy fucking shit.” His mouth is at my jaw. He is laughing through it. “Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.”
I laugh. “Yeah, holy shit.”
He draws back so he can look at me, our foreheads touching. His face is wrecked. His grin is the most beautiful thing I have ever been on the other side of.
“Better than fucking three dragons?” he asks.
And then I’m laughing so loud my chest shakes. “Three dragons could never compare to you three.”
He kisses the tip of my nose, then he kisses my mouth, slow and unhurried, the same way he started.
Ander carries me to the bed because my legs do not work.
Theo pulls back the duvet. Gideon moves over to make a spot in the middle. Ander lays me down between them, and then he climbs in, too.
I am in the middle of a four-person pile on a bed that was made for two.
Ander mirrors my thoughts. “We’re gonna need a bigger bed.”
“I’ll have my assistant on that today,” Theo says.
“Better get one for all of our houses,” Gideon adds. Thankfully, he’s very good at thinking ahead.
Gideon is on my left. His arm goes under my pillow. His hand finds my hair and stays there.
Theo is on my right. His leg comes up over both of mine. His hand goes flat on my stomach.
Ander is at the end of the bed, half-draped across all of us, his head on my hip, his arm thrown over Theo’s thigh. He looks like a golden retriever who has run himself to exhaustion.
“Are you okay?” Theo asks. His mouth is at my temple.
I turn my head to look at him. “Better than okay.”
Gideon runs his fingers through my hair. “Sore?”
“A little,” I lean into his hand. “But the good kind.”
“Are we napping? Because I need a fucking nap after that,” Ander says from the end of the bed.
Theo pulls me in tighter. “It’s morning.”
“And?” Ander asks.
Theo’s hand is moving in slow swirls on my stomach. “I guess we’re napping.”
“Excellent.” Ander turns his face into my hip. “Wake me in two hours.”
I close my eyes.
The four of us are a knot of limbs in the middle of the bed, and this is the best day of my life.
My breathing slows. Theo’s breath slows with it. Then Gideon’s. Then Ander’s.
I drift.
The pounding wakes me.
It’s not a knock.
This is a fist on a heavy front door, downstairs, repeating, and the sound carries up to our room.
Gideon and Theo are already sitting up. Ander has lifted his head from my hip.
Then the pounding stops.
“Boys. Get the fuck down here,” a man shouts.
Ander tips his head back. “I guess our father has seen the video.”