warned. “I can make it even better for you.”
Grace couldn’t fathom how that was possible, but then he sucked one nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue in stunning rhythm to Atticus’s mouth between her thighs. Her legs shook with the effort of staving off her release as the pressure coiled, tighter and tighter, until she feared she wouldn’t explode, but implode, collapsing in upon herself with the sheer weight of the pleasure. Colin’s hand slid down to her belly, kneading the taut muscles there.
She couldn’t hold back any longer, but she tried. Then, suddenly, she was arching, bucking, shuddering, the ecstasy so intense it bordered on agony. She heard someone sob, and dimly realized it was herself before Colin’s lips covered hers, absorbing her pleasure-pain into himself.
When it was over, Atticus lay back down alongside her as Colin rolled atop her, positioning his hips between her spread-eagled legs.
The tip of his cock pressed against her entry, and her breath caught. Finally. She shifted her hips, wanting to accommodate him, longing for him to fill her.
“This may hurt at first,” he said gently as he eased forward, “but you’re wet and ready, and I’m damned if I can wait any longer.”
He was right. It did hurt, just a bit, but it was a nothing, a trifle compared to the miracle of having him inside her. Once seated to the hilt, he began to move, thrusting in and out in aneasy, measured rhythm. The same spiraling tension she’d experienced earlier built again in her belly, but she knew his tempo was too slow, too gentle to bring her to orgasm again.
“I’m not hurting you, am I?” he asked, his features taut.
“No, it’s wonderful.”
He let out a groan of relief. “Good, because I don’t think I can stop myself from riding you hard, sweetheart. You’re like paradise, and I can’t get inside you far enough or fast enough. Atticus,” he ordered gruffly, “hold her legs for me. Give me more cunt.”
The words sent a spear of pulsing need straight to her core. She’d nearly forgotten Atticus’s presence, although now she realized he had been there all along, watching and waiting.
His hands slipped beneath her knees, pulling her legs back and steadying them as Colin picked up his pace. “Oh God, that’s it,” he grunted. “Nothing but pussy.”
The new angle of her body and the increased speed of Colin’s thrusts were all she needed to collapse into another climax. Weak and boneless, she didn’t think to protest or ask questions when Atticus released her legs and Colin pulled her tight to his chest and rolled her on top of him.
Atticus dropped a kiss on her mouth. “It’s time, sweetheart.”
She blinked in momentary confusion, and then she remembered. He meant it was that time. The time when they would both be inside her.
Her skin tingled. The idea aroused her terribly, almost obscenely, but dear heaven, with only Colin inside of her, she was full to bursting. How could she accommodate both of them at once?
Colin must have sensed her hesitation, because he said, “Remember how much you enjoyed it when Atticus fucked your arse with his fingers?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her inner muscles flexing around his cock at the word fucked . A word that sounded as wicked and wonderful as the act itself.
“We’ll start with that, then, and only go further if you want to,” Atticus said firmly. “I’ll start slow and go gently. All right?”
She could only nod in answer.
Atticus was as good as his word. After pouring a slippery oil between her buttocks, he pushed one finger past the tight ring of muscles. As it had the first time, the invasion burned, but only for a brief second.
Colin held her hips steady with both hands and resumed his thrusts, while Atticus worked his finger in and out of her arse in counter-rhythm. Dear heaven, it was too much, too intense, too exquisite. A second finger joined the first. Now a third, until she felt stretched to the
Grace couldn’t fathom how that was possible, but then he sucked one nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue in stunning rhythm to Atticus’s mouth between her thighs. Her legs shook with the effort of staving off her release as the pressure coiled, tighter and tighter, until she feared she wouldn’t explode, but implode, collapsing in upon herself with the sheer weight of the pleasure. Colin’s hand slid down to her belly, kneading the taut muscles there.
She couldn’t hold back any longer, but she tried. Then, suddenly, she was arching, bucking, shuddering, the ecstasy so intense it bordered on agony. She heard someone sob, and dimly realized it was herself before Colin’s lips covered hers, absorbing her pleasure-pain into himself.
When it was over, Atticus lay back down alongside her as Colin rolled atop her, positioning his hips between her spread-eagled legs.
The tip of his cock pressed against her entry, and her breath caught. Finally. She shifted her hips, wanting to accommodate him, longing for him to fill her.
“This may hurt at first,” he said gently as he eased forward, “but you’re wet and ready, and I’m damned if I can wait any longer.”
He was right. It did hurt, just a bit, but it was a nothing, a trifle compared to the miracle of having him inside her. Once seated to the hilt, he began to move, thrusting in and out in aneasy, measured rhythm. The same spiraling tension she’d experienced earlier built again in her belly, but she knew his tempo was too slow, too gentle to bring her to orgasm again.
“I’m not hurting you, am I?” he asked, his features taut.
“No, it’s wonderful.”
He let out a groan of relief. “Good, because I don’t think I can stop myself from riding you hard, sweetheart. You’re like paradise, and I can’t get inside you far enough or fast enough. Atticus,” he ordered gruffly, “hold her legs for me. Give me more cunt.”
The words sent a spear of pulsing need straight to her core. She’d nearly forgotten Atticus’s presence, although now she realized he had been there all along, watching and waiting.
His hands slipped beneath her knees, pulling her legs back and steadying them as Colin picked up his pace. “Oh God, that’s it,” he grunted. “Nothing but pussy.”
The new angle of her body and the increased speed of Colin’s thrusts were all she needed to collapse into another climax. Weak and boneless, she didn’t think to protest or ask questions when Atticus released her legs and Colin pulled her tight to his chest and rolled her on top of him.
Atticus dropped a kiss on her mouth. “It’s time, sweetheart.”
She blinked in momentary confusion, and then she remembered. He meant it was that time. The time when they would both be inside her.
Her skin tingled. The idea aroused her terribly, almost obscenely, but dear heaven, with only Colin inside of her, she was full to bursting. How could she accommodate both of them at once?
Colin must have sensed her hesitation, because he said, “Remember how much you enjoyed it when Atticus fucked your arse with his fingers?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her inner muscles flexing around his cock at the word fucked . A word that sounded as wicked and wonderful as the act itself.
“We’ll start with that, then, and only go further if you want to,” Atticus said firmly. “I’ll start slow and go gently. All right?”
She could only nod in answer.
Atticus was as good as his word. After pouring a slippery oil between her buttocks, he pushed one finger past the tight ring of muscles. As it had the first time, the invasion burned, but only for a brief second.
Colin held her hips steady with both hands and resumed his thrusts, while Atticus worked his finger in and out of her arse in counter-rhythm. Dear heaven, it was too much, too intense, too exquisite. A second finger joined the first. Now a third, until she felt stretched to the
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