Chapter Seventeen #2
Without warning, Zayn lifts me with effortless strength and settles me astride his lap, my knees bracketing his hips.
Our kiss turns frantic, desperate—teeth, tongues, the taste of him dizzying.
Alex slips behind me, and I gasp as his hands grip my thighs, guiding me back until I’m kneeling between them, my ass and pussy exposed at the edge of Zayn’s knees, my upper body draped over his chest. I shudder when I feel Alex’s breath ghost over my pussy, making me tremble.
Then his tongue finds my clit in one long, torturously slow lick, sending a jolt of pleasure through my whole body.
“Fuck, Ayla, you taste so good,” Alex groans, his voice thick with need before he dives back in—licking, sucking, devouring me like a man starved.
My moans spill out, raw and helpless, filling the cabin as Zayn’s hand runs through my hair and Alex’s tongue drives me wild between them, every nerve alight with want.
Zayn’s fingers tangle in my hair; he pulls my head back until my eyes lock with his.
The pleasure is so sharp, so overwhelming from Alex’s tongue and Zayn’s gaze, that I squeeze my eyes shut, breathless.
“Open them,” he growls, his voice a rough command, and I do—staring up at him, shuddering, lost in the intensity of the moment.
“Oh god,” I moan, the connection between us holding me captive as my orgasm builds, threatening to break me apart.
“I’m so close—don’t stop,” I beg, the words tumbling out just before pleasure crashes through me in a wave that leaves me shaking.
I have no time to catch my breath before Zayn slides two fingers between my lips, pushing them deep into my mouth, making me gag on the intrusion.
He doesn’t let up, his fingers holding my jaw open, owning every sound I make as I ride out my orgasm on Alex’s tongue.
The combination of pleasure and submission has me dizzy, helpless, and unraveling.
When my body finally goes limp, Zayn withdraws his fingers, a thin strand of drool connecting my lips to his hand. His eyes are dark with approval, hunger, and a wicked edge. “You look so fucking pretty when you gag,” he rasps. “Now do it again.”
Alex shifts me roughly onto all fours between Zayn’s legs before he slides his sweatpants down.
My eyes are drawn to the piercings glinting on his cock—silver and heavy, demanding my attention.
I flick my tongue over the tip of his cock, slow and soft, teasing him with every lazy swirl.
Zayn growls, a low, dangerous sound that makes my skin prickle.
“You being a little fucking tease, huh?” he rasps, and I just smirk at him, letting my eyes glitter with challenge.
That only makes him rougher. “I told you to fucking gag,” he snaps—then grabs a fistful of my hair, guiding my head down hard, forcing his cock deep into my throat in one relentless push.
I gag, tears stinging my eyes as he holds me there, his hips rolling in a steady, punishing rhythm.
Drool leaks from the corners of my mouth, slicking my chin as Zayn fucks my mouth, using me with a control that’s both brutal and exhilarating.
I surrender to it, rocking into the rhythm he sets, letting him take what he wants.
I’m so lost to Zayn’s rhythm—his cock deep in my throat, the rough grip in my hair—that I barely register Alex moving behind me until I feel his hands slide up my thighs.
His fingers find my clit and circle it in slow, torturous strokes, teasing me until I’m trembling.
Just as my body arches into his touch, he pulls away, leaving me sagging with need.
Zayn slows, letting me breathe as he rocks in and out of my mouth, his gaze never leaving mine.
I hear the soft rasp of Alex’s zipper, then the blunt, hot press of his cock nudging against my clit.
I moan around Zayn, the vibration making him curse, and then Alex presses inside me—slow, relentless, the cold thrill of his piercings dragging along my walls.
The sensation is all new and overwhelming, making my whole body shudder.
He grabs my hips, holding me steady as he sinks all the way in, his thrusts deliberate and slow, drawing out every flicker of pleasure, every desperate ache.
Zayn continues to fuck my mouth, varying the depth—sometimes deep and rough, sometimes shallow and teasing—giving me just enough moments to catch my breath before he takes it away again.
I’m suspended between them, every nerve raw, every sense alive, lost in the dizzying pleasure of being theirs.
Alex’s thrusts grow harder, more desperate, each one rocking me forward.
Zayn grabs a fistful of my hair, yanking my head up so I have no choice but to meet his eyes.
“Look at you, fuckin’ wrecked—crying, drooling, taking us like our perfect little slut,” he snarls, voice filthy and raw.
He wipes the drool from my chin, his grip possessive, and the filthy words only make my pussy clench tighter around Alex.
Alex’s voice is low and deep, a rough rasp that vibrates through my whole body. “God, Ayla, you feel so fucking good,” he groans, the sound almost a growl as he slams into me.
“You love my cock in your throat while he fucks you like a whore, don’t you?” Zayn growls out.
I nod, moaning out, loving every filthy second of it, loving being between them, used and adored. Zayn grins, animalistic and hungry. “That’s my girl—open up. Gag on it for me again.” He thrusts back in, rougher, his cock filling my mouth again, his grip in my hair unrelenting.
I feel my orgasm building, the sensation like nothing I’ve ever felt before—hot, dizzy, wild.
Alex’s hand is bruising on my hips, his thrusts relentless.
“She’s gonna cum like a good little girl,” he growls, voice deep and throaty, and that’s all it takes.
I moan, shaking, my body clenching tight, pleasure ripping through me as I fall apart on them.
Zayn lets me ride it out, his cock still in my mouth, but he doesn’t finish; instead, he pulls out, leaving me gasping, drool and tears streaking my face, still trembling.
Alex groans, his hips jerking, his cock twitching as he cums inside me, filling me up.
He pulls out slowly, his breath ragged, and steps back to take in the sight of me—messy, ruined, and still trembling from the pleasure he’s given me.
His gaze roams over every detail, dark with satisfaction and awe.
For a long moment, he just watches, chest heaving, eyes trailing from where his cum is leaking out of me to the flush on my cheeks.
Then, his voice drops—low, rough, and reverent. “What a fucking sight, Ayla. My cum dripping out of you… fuck, you look so perfect like this.”
Zayn stands, moving behind me as I try to shift, but his voice is a sharp, vulgar command: “Don’t you fucking dare. Stay right there. It’s my turn.” He kneels behind me, gripping my hips, his words low and filthy in my ear. “Look at that cum-soaked cunt. Fuck, I’m gonna ruin you.”
Zayn drives into me with relentless force, each thrust rough, hungry, almost desperate, like he’s been holding back for years and finally lets himself go.
The way he moves is wild, primal, and it makes my whole body sing—every snap of his hips sends pleasure crashing through me, the heat between us turning blinding.
I cry out, unable to hold anything back, loving the way he takes me, the way he claims me with every hard, deep stroke.
Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I see Dean step into the room.
He stops, his expression unreadable, eyes flicking from where Zayn’s hands are gripping my hips to my flushed, wrecked face.
He doesn’t say a word—doesn’t have to. There’s a tension in his jaw, something raw and possessive flickering in his gaze, and for a split second, guilt and want twist together inside me.
I feel exposed, caught between needing Zayn and craving Dean’s approval, shame and arousal warring as my body arches back, desperate for more.
Zayn notices, too—his thrusts grow even rougher, his voice a low, guttural growl in my ear.
“You like being watched, don’t you, Ayla?
” he rasps, one hand sliding up to tangle in my hair, yanking my head back so Dean can see every expression on my face.
“Let him see how good I fuck you. Let him see who makes you fall apart.”
Dean’s eyes never leave mine, holding me there—pinned, exposed, shameless.
My cheeks burn, but the thrill of it only makes the pressure inside me mount higher, tighter, until I’m teetering on the edge.
I can’t hold back, not with both of them watching, not with Zayn claiming me so completely.
Shame and pleasure blur together, and all I can do is let go, my body breaking apart as I cum again, completely unraveled.