Chapter 11
Wade’s standing there, the most powerful of them all, the owner of this whole damn operation, with a thick, veiny cock jutting out from a wild tangle of dark hair that crawls up his stomach and across his thighs.
Totally ungroomed, primal. What I can see of him under that open flannel is corded with muscle from decades of hard labor.
“Sam,” he says. “Bathroom cabinet. There’s a bottle of lube. Get it.”
Sam scrambles out of the room. He’s back in seconds with the half-full bottle in a shaking hand. He holds it out to Wade, but Wade just nods toward me.
“You do it. Seems like you’ve had plenty of practice.”
I can see the bulge in Sam’s jeans straining at the seam.
He fumbles with the cap, squirts a cold dollop onto his fingers, and touches my exposed hole.
His fingers tremble as he works one inside, then two, scissoring me open while the rest of them watch every move he makes.
I’m so turned on, so slick with want, that I open for him easily.
“You know how long it’s been since I’ve had a woman out here?
” Wade says, watching Sam’s fingers disappear into me.
“Three years. Maybe longer. I work sunup to sundown. Don’t got time for dates and phone calls and all that bullshit.
” He nods at the bottle in Sam’s hand. “Gets plenty of use. But a man’s own hand only goes so far. ”
“Sounds like you could use a volunteer, sir,” I manage, panting as Sam adds a third finger.
“Yeah, boss,” Flynn chimes in, already on his feet, palming himself through his jeans. “It’s not healthy to hold all that in.”
Wade’s eyes are fixed on my stretched, slick hole.
“There have been guys messin’ around here before.
There will be again. That’s just how it goes.
No women, lots of lonely nights. But I made a rule for myself a long time ago.
Never touch one of my own men.” He wraps a hand around his cock.
“I mean, it ain’t exactly appropriate, is it? ”
“It is when I’m begging for it,” I say, pushing back onto Sam’s fingers. “You said a crew looks out for each other, sir. So let us.”
“We’re all in, boss,” Malik says, getting to his feet. He and Flynn move to either side of me.
“Every last one of us,” Flynn adds, pulling his shirt over his head and popping open his fly. His cock springs out, heavy and beaded with precum. “Team effort.”
Even Rex stands. Doesn’t say a word. He walks over, unzips, and frees himself. Fuck. I was not expecting him to join so fast. He must have liked last night more than he let on.
Wade looks at them, all circling me like wolves. He looks down at my ass, red from the spanking and glistening with lube. “Well now. Ain’t that a sight. All my best men, present and accounted for.” He grunts. “Alright then. Show me how y’all been treatin’ our latest hire.”
Of course it’s Flynn who steps up first. “With pleasure, boss.” He grabs the bottle from Sam, slicks himself up, and takes aim. Both hands grip my hips as he guides himself to my slippery hole. Sam steps back, chest heaving.
I grunt, palms flat on the table. Flynn’s been inside me plenty of times, but never with an audience like this. Never under the watchful eye of our boss.
Wade holds his cock in one hand, eyes locked on where Flynn is pushing into me. “That how you did it in my tub, Flynn?”
“In my defense, boss, your tub is really fancy,” Flynn pants as he bottoms out, hips flush against my ass. “Fuuuuck.”
“Next time, ask. And clean up after yourself.” Wade runs his thumb over the head of his cock, smearing the wetness around. “Now show me what you’ve been doin’ to this boy.”
Flynn doesn’t need to be told twice. He pulls back and slams into me, hard enough to send me lurching forward, my cock slapping against my stomach under the apron.
Again. And again. Until he’s fucking me with long, deep strokes, every thrust making the table scrape against the floor.
He takes me with that easy confidence of his, not in the slightest bothered by the crowd of onlookers.
I moan louder than I’ve ever let myself. There was always the risk of being heard, the need to stay quiet. This is the first time I can be as loud as I want, and that’s exactly what I’m doing. The sounds coming out of me are animalistic, guttural.
Flynn’s cock finds that spot inside me, the one he knows so well, and my toes curl against the floor. I push back into him, arching my spine, shameless. The apron strings dig into my skin. I reach back and pull my own cheek open. Wider. Giving Wade the best view he could ask for.
Everyone’s got their cock out now, standing in a half-circle around the table.
Sam is stroking himself with an urgency I’ve never seen from him, finally free of the fear of getting caught.
Malik’s eyes are dark and focused on the place where Flynn keeps disappearing into me.
Rex is gripping himself white-knuckled, stroking in slow pulls, jaw clenched tight.
“Enough,” Wade says, quiet but firm. “Pull out.”
“What? Boss, I’m just getting?—”
“Flynn.”
Flynn whimpers but does as he’s told, sliding out of me and leaving me empty and aching. My hole clenches around nothing, trying to draw him back in. I can feel lube and sweat dripping down the back of my thigh.
“Now, look at that,” Wade says. “Look at what you’ve been doing. You’re makin’ a sloppy mess of him.”
They all stare at my fluttering, slicked-up hole, and my whole body burns with it. Low grunts of appreciation, heavy breathing, the slick sounds of hands on cocks. I’m on display. More exposed than I’ve ever been. And fuck, I love it.
“Malik. You think you can do better?” Wade says.
“I don’t know about better,” Malik says, stepping up behind me. “But I can make a mess of my own.”
“Show us.”
Malik pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside. I cry out as he pushes in that massive cock, stretching me wider than I’ve ever been stretched. When he bottoms out, he holds himself there and leans over me, pressing his bare chest to my back. “You wanted this, J? All of us?”
“Yes,” I sob, my hands scrabbling for purchase on the rough wood.
“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” he whispers against my ear.
“You complaining?” I manage, half laughing, half panting.
“God, no. Admiring.”
“Are you gonna fuck him or what?” Wade’s gravelly voice cuts in. “This ain’t a damn tea party.”
“Sorry, boss.” Malik pulls back until only the head is inside, then slams home. I cry out, a string of curses and pleas.
“That’s more like it.”
Malik picks up the pace, fucking me with deep, powerful thrusts, balls slapping against my ass. Smack. Smack. Smack. His weight pins me to the table, the whole thing shaking under us. The other guys are shouting encouragement, egging him on, stroking themselves harder.
“Wreck that hole, Malik!”
“He can take more. Look at him.”
“Harder. He’s barely even breaking a sweat.”
“Make him take that big dick!”
And I do. I take every inch, head dropping forward, body given over completely. The burn is so good. The stretch. The fullness. A hot tear leaks from the corner of my eye and slides down my nose, dripping onto the table.
Malik is a different man when he fucks. The friendly cowboy who taught me to ride and throw a lasso, the one who’s always smiling, always patient, is gone. What’s left is a man who hasn’t been inside a tight hole in way too long, and he’s making sure I know it with every punishing thrust.
Sweat drips from his forehead onto my back. He groans with every stroke, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise.
“So good, J,” he pants. “So fucking good. Tight as hell. That’s it. Take it. Just like that.”
The others can see everything. How my ass takes Malik’s cock, gripping him on the outstroke, swallowing him whole when he pushes back in. They see how much I’m loving it.
“That ass looks incredible with a cock in it,” Malik says, punctuating the words with a thrust. “So pink and stretched.”
“Slap it if you want,” I gasp between thrusts. I’m brazen, high on the freedom of it all. “If the boss says it’s okay.”
Wade grunts. “Go on then. He likes bein’ handled.”
Malik’s hand hovers over my ass. “Nah. I don’t wanna hurt you, J.”
“You don’t wanna hurt him,” Flynn laughs. “Man, you’ve got nine inches up his ass. You think that isn’t hurting?”
“It’s a good hurt,” I pant, looking back over my shoulder into Malik’s dark eyes. “Give it to me, Mal.”
“Alright. If you ask for it.” The crack of his palm on my ass echoes through the kitchen. I gasp, pain and pleasure tangling together. He does it again on the other cheek, a matching red handprint blooming on my skin. I cry out, pushing back to meet his thrust, my body on fire.
“Yeah, he likes that,” Sam breathes, and I hear the slick, fast sound of his fist on his cock. “Look at him go.”
“Sam. You’re up,” Wade says. “Don’t waste it.”
Malik slows to a stop, presses his lips to the back of my neck, and pulls out with a groan. Sam takes his place, and before I can miss the fullness, he’s pushing into me with desperate, clumsy urgency.
With Sam, it’s always been furious and rough, and now that he’s got Wade’s blessing, he’s not any gentler. He’s wilder. He fucks me like he’s making up for every time he held back, every time he was too scared to take what he wanted. And I love that he can finally let go.
“You’re gonna break my damn table,” Wade says.
“Sorry, boss,” Sam grunts, but he doesn’t slow down. He’s too far gone. He keeps hammering into me like a man possessed, short, fast, hard. All frantic energy and no finesse.