Page 33 of Four on the Floor: A Menage Romance

It feels exactly right.

So, so right.

After a few strokes we’re fucking fast and hard, Dalton and Cash somehow both merciless and gentle with me. Cash hits all my pleasure centers with every single stroke, filling me again and again, stretching me out and using me in the most perfect way as I suck Dalton eagerly, feeling his hard length throb in my mouth.

In almost no time I’m on the edge again, but this time there’s no teasing. There’s only two men, fucking me fast and hard. There’s nothing I can do but come just as fast and hard and I do, feeling my pussy clench around Cash as I shout and moan into Dalton’s cock.

I’m shaking. My body is hot and cold at once as pleasure tears through me, making my skin feel like it’s bursting open at the seams with it. The hand in my hair tightens and the pleasure sharpens suddenly, making me feel like I’m about to snap in two even as I open my mouth and suck desperately at Dalton’s cock.

Cash slams into me again and again as I come, each thrust scratching an itch I didn’t know I had until now. I slurp at Dalton one more time and then he pushes himself to the back of my mouth and holds me there.

I swallow as he comes, greedily drinking him down. I’ve neverenjoyedthis part before, but suddenly — now, with them — I love it. I love having the last remnants of my climax rattle through my body as I swallow Dalton, listening to him growl and pant and moan.

I love feeling Cash come a split second later, his cock jerking deep inside my pussy as he fills me, his hands gripping my ass so hard that I’ll probably have handprints there in the morning.

Gradually, Cash slows, then stops. Dalton pulls away from me, bends down, kisses me full on the mouth, not giving a damn that I taste like him.

We collapse into a sweaty mess on my bed, which is plenty big enough for all three. Soon I’m curled between Dalton and Cash and we’re slowly cooling off, the cold night air seeping into my pores.

“There,” Cash finally says, his voice low and lazy. “Problem solved.”

“What problem?” I ask, not moving a single muscle. I feel like I’m pudding that’s just been poured into this bed, and I don’t know that Icouldmove if I wanted to.

“The problem of you avoiding us like you thought it was weird you’d been with both of us,” Dalton says. He’s behind me, one hand on my side, distractedly stroking my hip.

“You did all that just to avoid some awkwardness?” I tease.

“No, we did all that because we wanted to see how much you liked it when we shared you,” Cash says, a smirk in his voice. “The awkwardness thing was just the icing on the cake.”

He reaches over and lazily slaps my ass, and I laugh.

“You’re gonna have to wait a few minutes,” I tell him. “I’m not sure I can even move right now.”

He kisses me on the forehead. Dalton keeps stroking my hip.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he teases.

Chapter Thirteen

Gavin

I thinkI’m starting to get cabin fever. Even though we’re in a palatial hotel, high in the Rockies, being confined mostly indoors has never been my thing.

I like running. I like rock climbing, and hiking, and skiing, and kayaking, and getting outside and doingstuff. But today it’s about zero degrees outside, there’s something like four feet of snow on the ground, and the hotel is surrounded by craggy mountains and miles and miles of unforgiving forest; I’m not quite cabin feverish enough to risk my life.

I head to the gym instead. I throw some weights around, go for a jog, get on the rowing machine while I try to watch some movies. It tires me out, but it doesn’t scratch that itch. Not quite.

So I bundle up and head outside, tossing on some old gloves that I find in a coat closet, grab a snow shovel, and get to work.

There’s no real reason to shovel off the driveway turnaround in front of the hotel. No one is coming or going for at least another two months, but I need to dosomething. I need to feel useful in some way, and I’ve already cleaned the kitchen and done all my laundry for the week.

I know that we’re supposed to be half relaxing, half working on new material, but I’ve never been good at relaxing and I see no reason to start working on it now.

Shoveling snow helps. Not a lot, but it does help though I’m still feeling restless, a little like I want to pop out of my skin and… well, I don’t know what.

It’s got positively nothing to do with certain noises I heard last night. I’ve had a hard time sleeping lately — too dark, too quiet, I’m used to noise and light — and so around midnight, I was lying in bed and heard something that sounded quite like a woman having a mind-blowing orgasm.

Then, a few minutes later, I could have sworn I heard it again. And I could have sworn that I heard twoseparatemale voices at the same time.

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