30 Everleigh Tired of Running—Dylan Gossett #3
With a final stroke, scalding fluid pours into me. My pussy shamelessly accepts the offering, humming to the tune of his release. The orgasm that sweeps over me is as merciless as the man who demands it.
Muscled weight settles across my back, heaving with pants. My eyes slide shut as I catch my breath. I can feel Sterling pouring out of me, despite his best efforts to push his cum back inside when he pulls out.
“You’re not done,” he warns.
Wrestling my spent limbs to turn over, I shuffle to the edge of the table, still gasping. Fletcher watches the others move aside, leaving me ripe for the taking. He seems thrilled to be last, hungrily watching the droplets slide over my thighs.
I band my arms around his neck when he lifts me, cradling my body to his torso. He takes a seat in one of the chairs. I plant a foot on either side of his waist, giving him the space to shove his sweats down, keeping his T-shirt in place.
Finger under his chin, I guide his stare up. “You don’t need to hide from me.”
His lips slant in a small smile as he mouths, I know.
“We’re your family. You’re safe here.”
Seeming to ponder, he tugs the back of his T-shirt to pull it off. I accept the heap of cotton and discard it on the kitchen floor, drinking in the clouds of mottled pink-and-silver flesh he keeps shielded from the world.
The memory of him caressing my scars rises to the forefront as I smooth my mouth over a gnarly patch, the flesh raised in angry-looking knots. Fletcher sucks in a stuttered breath.
My eyes flick up, locking on to his while I kiss the inches available to me. Just like he did.
“I love every part of you,” I whisper truthfully. “Regardless of what those parts looks like.”
His throat swells, bobbing up and down.
“You’re not half a man, Fletch. You never were.”
He mouths a reply. For you.
My fingertips stroke over his clean-shaven face. “Show me.”
Holding my waist, he shuffles on the seat until he nudges against my engorged entrance. I’m slick and ready to take all of him. Our foreheads meet as his cock sheathes inside me, pushing to the deepest reaches.
Positioned on top like this, it somehow feels more intimate. There’s nowhere to hide when you’re face to face with the person claiming your soul. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I rise and fall on his lap, allowing him to almost slip out before taking his length back inside. It’s a stealthy game. One he clearly loves as he grins up at me, keeping a loose clasp on my waist to aid each downward stroke.
His head lowers to suck a nipple into his mouth, adding another point of friction. I rise and fall on him slowly at first, letting my tired body reignite, then gradually increase as electricity bolts through me.
A bottle of water in hand, Sterling positions himself next to Leo, both content to watch us fuck. The weight of their collective stares fuels my movements. They’re grinning like a pair of jackals.
“Idiots,” I pant.
Sterling nods approvingly. “Hell of a show, though.”
“Seconded,” Leo concurs.
My thighs burn, protesting the workout. Sinking onto Fletcher’s hardness over and over steals my energy. But still, the flickers of rapture settle into my bones. Each man brings his own brand of bliss, and Fletcher is no less enticing, regardless of our audience.
When his fingertips dig into me so his hips can rise, following my momentum, the collision intensifies. I cling to him while accepting his thrusting. I’m shuddering all over with white-hot need.
“E-Ev,” he grates.
“Yes, Fletch. More.”
Brilliant phosphenes float over my vision, luring me to the edge of sanity. I chase the mountain peak that looms ahead and let our sweat-slick bodies writhe, seeking the bliss only each other can bring.
When he seizes my poor nipple and tweaks, the bonfire spreads. Encroaching on every alight cell, it mercilessly proliferates, engulfing my entire form in a matter of seconds.
Fletcher’s arms coil around me as our chests flush together, two hearts beating as one. Our climaxes follow the same path. We’re both growing ragged, hurried. Sprinting for the conclusion to this ache eating us up.
When I come apart, it’s a spectacular implosion. Nothing is left untouched. All my brain cells coalesce around a single point—intoxicating euphoria. Fletcher holds me close as I detonate around him.
He vibrates underneath me when his own orgasm takes control. Nectar flows from his tip to join Sterling’s spill coating my inner walls, entwining their essence into one clear brand. Theirs. In every sense of the word.
The after-effects are just as cataclysmic. My eyes bunch closed, fighting off the dizzy elation that comes with being fucked into oblivion. I feel myself go limp in his embrace, barely able to hold my head up.
“Ev-v-v.”
Nestled into his neck, I gently kiss the base of his throat. “Mm?”
He strokes the back of my head. “L-Love.”
Tilting upwards to meet his stare, appreciation beams down at me. The final piece of a puzzle that’s taken months to build clicks into place in my chest.
“Love,” I murmur back.