Chapter 56 #2
“That’s it,” he says, watching us like it’s a fucking art exhibit. “Take him. Just like that. Ride Monty’s cock nice and slow while I open you up back here.”
She shudders between us, sinking all the way down, gasping as my cock hits the deepest part of her.
“Fuck,” I growl, my hands gripping her hips. “You’re squeezing me like you don’t want me to leave.”
“I don’t,” she whimpers.
Behind her, Callaway spreads her cheeks again, slow and deliberate, his fingers slick as they tease her open. I feel the brush of his knuckles as she shifts on my lap, and it sends a sharp pulse through me—anticipation so strong it makes my breath hitch.
I want him there.
Want to see her take him.
Want to feel what it does to her when he finally gives her what he’s been promising.
She rolls her hips, grinding down on me, and I swear I can feel the difference already—her body opening wider, softer, like she knows what’s coming and is making space for it.
“Easy,” Callaway murmurs, voice low and steady behind her. “Let me in slow.”
I watch her face as he presses closer—watch the way her mouth falls open, the way her eyes flutter when she feels that first stretch.
She gasps.
“Oh—Cally—”
My hands tighten on her hips. There’s something overwhelming about watching her like this—about seeing her take us both without hesitation. Not torn. Not unsure. Just open.
She leans back against me, her head dropping to my shoulder as Callaway eases himself into her, inch by inch, patient and reverent.
“So full,” she whispers, voice shaking. “God—you both feel so good.”
The words go straight through me.
I rock up into her slowly, letting her feel me while she takes him, the three of us moving together in a rhythm that feels instinctive.
I kiss her temple, her cheek. “You’re incredible,” I murmur. “Taking us like this.”
Callaway’s hands slide over her thighs, steadying her. “That’s it,” he tells her. “You’re doing so good. You always do.”
She whimpers again, overwhelmed and radiant and wrecked between us.
“I love this,” she breathes. “I love feeling you both. Love knowing you’re here—holding me—filling me.”
I close my eyes for a second, pressing my forehead to her shoulder, letting the moment settle deep. This isn’t about conquest. It isn’t about proving anything.
It’s about trust.
About being chosen—both of us—without hesitation. About sharing something intimate without fear, without holding back.
And I feel him.
Not just in the way she gasps when he moves behind her. Not just in the way her body tightens around me when he presses deeper. His hardness against mine.
I feel him in the shared fullness—in the way her body carries us both, in the faint, unmistakable awareness of him there with me. The pressure. The closeness. The truth that we’re connected through her in a way that’s physical and undeniable.
We’re three bodies aligned, choosing this together.
And it feels . . . right.
When I open my eyes again, Callaway meets my gaze over her shoulder.
Every time he thrusts into her, I feel the pressure of it in the way she tightens around me. The slick drag, the impossible heat, the way her body squeezes us like she was made for exactly this—for us.
Her voice breaks into a whimper, her head tipping back against my shoulder, her entire body trembling between us.
Vesper moans. “You’re both—so deep—I can’t—I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” Callaway growls against her skin. “You can take it. You are taking it. Fuck, baby—look at you.”
I slide my hand between us and find her clit, swollen and soaked, and rub tight, slow circles.
“I want to feel you come again,” I whisper into her ear. “Come for us, Vesper. Come with us still inside you.”
She shatters in seconds.
The orgasm rips through her, violent and beautiful, her entire body locking up, mouth open in a silent scream as she milks us both. Her thighs shake. Her nails dig into my chest. Her cunt pulses around me so hard I nearly lose it right there.
“Fuck—fuck—Vesper—” I grit, the heat coiling low and hard, pleasure crawling up my spine like it’s pulling the climax out of me.
Callaway’s voice breaks—rough, reverent. “I’m gonna come—fuck—you’re taking it so good—”
“Do it,” she gasps, barely coherent. “Come in me—both of you—please, please—”
My vision whites out.
I thrust deep and stay, my orgasm tearing through me in sharp, raw waves. I spill inside her, my hands gripping her hips, my chest pressed to her back, breath gone.
Callaway follows a beat later, his rhythm faltering as he buries himself in her with a guttural groan, forehead resting between her shoulder blades.
The sound of him breaking inside her is almost enough to undo me again.
We stay like that—suspended. Panting. Wrapped around each other, held together by heat and sweat and the things we can’t say yet.
Eventually, she sinks forward onto my chest, her breath feathering across my throat, Callaway’s arms still curled around her from behind.
And we just breathe.
Three hearts pounding in sync.
Three bodies still joined.
Three people choosing always and hoping for forever.