Chapter 17 #4
I make a vague attempt to help. Tristan does the work, rolling my boneless body onto my stomach while Freddie catches my head before my face lands in the blankets.
Freddie kneels between my thighs. His palms travel up the backs of my legs and stop below the heat Weller left behind. Owen gives up his place at my feet but doesn’t go far, settling against the footboard with his cock hard again. Weller watches from the chair.
Freddie bends and kisses the center of my back.
“You have no idea how beautiful you are.” Another kiss lands between my shoulders, then he moves lower. His teeth graze against my reddened skin, and the sting jerks a cry from me. Freddie lifts his head immediately.
“Be gentle with her,” Weller snaps.
“Well, that’s horseshit. You were the one who had her over your knee.”
“And now I’m telling you to watch it.”
Tristan stretches beside us on one elbow, his cock hard against his stomach, and he pushes two fingers between my legs and gets a deep moan for it. “Feels like our girl wants Freddie inside her and for both of you to shut up.”
Freddie lowers himself over me without giving me his weight. One forearm braces beside my head; his other hand finds mine and threads our fingers together against the blankets. His mouth settles near my ear, his breathing heavy.
The head of his cock presses against me from behind and he enters on a slow push, my body opening while he murmurs my name.
I lift my hips into him, dragging his pelvis over the punished heat of my ass.
“Baby.” The warning comes rougher than anything Freddie usually gives me. “Do that again and I won’t stay so nice.”
I push against him harder, and he drives into me while his mouth bites gently along my shoulder. Every thrust brushes my sore skin and folds the sting into pleasure until I can’t separate them.
“My girl. God, you feel so good. I missed you.” His grip tightens around my hand. “I missed this.”
Tristan slides his palm beneath my lower stomach and raises my hips a fraction. “Now aim here.”
Freddie follows the angle, and my next breath comes out a sob.
“Again,” Tristan says.
“Turn your face to the side.” Freddie’s mouth brushes my temple. “I want to see you.”
My orgasm rolls through the bruised, overfull center of me, slower than the ones Owen wrung from me but deep enough to take my voice.
Freddie keeps moving because I beg him to, though the plea comes out as his name and then nothing.
He kisses my cheek, the corner of my eye, every piece of me he can reach without letting me go.
“That’s it. You’re perfect. You’re so fucking perfect.”
I’m still clenching his cock when Tristan kisses the inside of my calf. One hand keeps my pelvis lifted while his thumb circles my clit. I jerk hard enough that Freddie has to brace us both.
His fingers travel lower, parting me around Freddie. Then one fingertip presses at the same opening already occupied.
I bury my face in the blankets.
“Too much?” Freddie asks against my ear.
Tristan waits for me. The pause is filthier than if he’d pushed straight in. I feel the tip of his finger beside Freddie’s cock, my body straining toward pressure it has no business wanting.
“I can handle it,” I say to no one in particular, because I half expect Weller to put a stop to it.
Tristan’s finger slides inside and Freddie swears. The broad pressure of his cock and the slim intrusion rubbing alongside him make every tiny movement enormous. I squeeze his hand when he tries to retreat.
He draws back shallowly and pushes forward. Tristan keeps his finger inside, letting Freddie slide against it.
The sound that comes out of me is embarrassing.
His second finger presses in beside the first.
Freddie goes rigid. “Tristan, don’t overdo it.”
“Tell him what you want, sweetheart.”
The pressure already has a bite. My thighs tremble around Freddie while Tristan holds both fingers together, waiting.
“Please. I like it.”
“Fuck,” Owen mutters from somewhere.
Freddie continues fucking me alongside Tristan’s fingers. He turns his wrist, separates his fingers a fraction, and makes a satisfied sound when I yield around them.
“I think she wants both of us.”
The thought of it sends a violent pulse through me. “I do, but not my ass this time.”
“Both of us?” Freddie repeats.
“Here.” I reach between us and touch myself around the base of his cock.
Freddie’s chest rises and falls against my back.
Whitney’s face flashes in my mind.
“Not if you don’t want to...” My mouth dries around the rest. “If it feels like something you have to do because I asked?—”
Freddie’s response is immediate and soft. “Baby, the only thing on my mind is you. I’m good right where I am.”
Tristan shifts closer. “Stop trying to rescue us from something we want.”
“Freddie, roll her.”
“If it’s too much for her,” Weller says from the chair, “you’ll stop immediately.”
I can’t see Tristan but I picture him rolling his eyes. “No shit, Sherlock. That was the plan.”
Freddie wraps one arm under my ribs and rolls on his back, carrying me with him while his cock stays buried. I end up reclined against his chest, my back fitted to him and my knees spread outside his thighs.
Tristan rubs his hands all over my body, teasing my nipples, sucking my clit into his mouth. I jolt and a whine wrings out of me.
“Absolutely stunning,” he says, watching my face as he presses kisses up my thigh until I’m squirming. “Dream girl.”
Freddie braces both hands beneath my thighs, holding me open while Tristan lifts my hips a fraction. “Stay still.”
I can try.
His cock nudges against the crowded space, and every muscle in my body locks.
“Breathe.” Freddie rubs a palm over my stomach and then over my nipple. “If you wanna stop, say so.”
Tristan pushes forward the tiniest bit and I’m certain they won’t both fit. “Relax for us.”
“There’s no room for you.”
His voice roughens. “Let me in anyway.”
I shudder and Freddie strokes my thigh. Weller’s scent thickens beside the bed, teakwood and tension filling my lungs alongside Freddie’s honeyed warmth and Tristan’s burnt amber. Owen needs to come closer.
I slowly inhale and exhale as he pushes inside.
There’s no graceful way to take two cocks in the same place.
My mouth opens on a broken cry as my body stretches around them.
Freddie groans into my shoulder, his stomach going hard beneath me.
Tristan holds my gaze, one hand firm around my hip while his cock advances another fraction.
Weller closes a hand around my wrist. “Hold.”
Tristan stops as Weller’s thumb searches for my pulse. “Bianca. Answer me.”
“I’m good.” The words come out garbled.
Weller’s hand disappears and Tristan readjusts.
The pressure burns, then melts into a fullness that stops feeling impossible. I can feel where they touch inside me, hot, slick skin crowded together, every twitch passing from one into the other and through me.
His mouth hovers over mine. “Is our girl finally content?”
I clench around them, and his mouth twists on a groan.
“Maybe,” I whisper.
“Oh, no.” Tristan draws his hips back carefully. The movement drags both of them through me. “We’re curing that greed tonight.”
He catches my mouth before I can answer. Tristan thrusts forward, Freddie rolls his hips up to meet him, and I disappear between them.
They find the rhythm slowly. Freddie’s upward strokes are deep and steady, each one paired with praise against my ear or a kiss along my throat.
Tristan drives into me from the front, one hand on my hip and the other braced beside Freddie’s shoulder as he chooses the moments when my body has softened enough to push me wider.
Tristan holds my neck and brings my mouth to his, kissing me with a hunger that makes me dizzy.
“Fuck. Can you brood any harder, Owen?” Tristan asks when we break apart.
I turn my head and find him watching. Forearms on his knees, cock hard and ignored against his stomach, watching me take these two with an intense stillness. Not a word. Not a blink.
But his hands twitch where they hang between his knees, and I can’t stand it another second.
“Owen. Kiss me.”
And he’s moving.
“Unbelievable,” Tristan mutters. “Double stuffed and she’s recruiting.”
Owen plants himself next to us, and I turn my face to look at him.
“Give me your sweet sounds, Princess.” His thumb drags across my bottom lip.
Then his mouth presses against mine, and Tristan’s next thrust carries an edge it didn’t have before.
The asshole doesn’t let Owen’s tenderness rescue me. He reaches for my chin to turn my face back to his, and they take turns kissing me until I’m gone.
An orgasm hits hard and Owen swallows my scream. Freddie loses his rhythm beneath me, and Tristan’s hand clamps over my hip as my body locks around them both.
“Yes, yes... come for us,” Freddie chants, voice breaking. “God, baby, that’s it. Perfect omega.”
They don’t stop. They can’t. Every uneven thrust holds me inside the pleasure until it frays into too much, and then Tristan’s control finally gives way. His forehead drops against me as he buries himself with a low, deep sound and comes inside me, his cock pulsing hard beside Freddie’s.
Freddie’s hips lift once, and warmth spills into me, overflowing and more than my body can hold. They stay wrapped around me while the last tremors pass, their panting hot against my skin.
Tristan eases out, his hand spread over my stomach as if he can hold me together from the outside. I cry out when the pressure relents. Freddie murmurs into my hair as he slips out too.
Emptiness.
I reach for Weller. He takes my hand and his thumb passes over my knuckles.
“What do you need? Thirsty? Hungry? There’s a pizza place not far.”
“I want you.”
The hesitation is all over his face, and I’m certain he’ll tell me I need a break.
But then he removes his shirt, folds it once, and lays it over the chair.
His pants follow. I watch the dark trail below his stomach disappear into his groin, then give up pretending I’m looking anywhere but at his cock.
Everyone seems to move away to make room for him.