Page 70 of The Doctor's Truth

Donovan shifts underneath Jason. “I’m ready.”

Jason pops the top of the Vaseline jar and sets it to the side. He scoops a dollop out and slips his hand between Donovan’s legs.

“How’s that?”

A light laugh from Donovan.

“You don’t have to be gentle,” he says. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

“Okay…”

When Jason fits himself inside of Donovan, Donovan moans, and the sound pulls a throb from between my legs.

“God, you feel good,” Jason murmurs.

“Less talking,” Donovan grunts, his eyebrows knitting, “more of what you’re doing with your hips.”

Their bodies rock together, moaning, sweating. I have to touch them, so I do; I slip my fingers through Donovan’s hair. He leans into my touch, so I run my hand down, slipping it down his chest, his abdomen.

I graze the curly hair between his legs.

“Is this okay?” I ask.

“Very,” he pants.

I shift my body and tuck in beside his. I run my fingertips up the length of his cock. He’s so hard, but his skin is silky soft. I trace the veins of him and then finally take him fully in my hand. His breath catches at that, and I stroke him, slowly, listening closely to the spots that make him moan and pant a little quicker.

I love peeling this man apart. Discovering the hidden parts of him. And he’s unraveling now, under my hand and Jason’s thrusts. Donovan braces himself, one hand on Jason’s chest, the other on my arm. His grip tightens and he pivots against us, conducting the pace and rhythm of his own pleasure.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” Donovan hisses between his teeth, eyes closed tightly.

“I won’t,” Jason says—that same, breathless promise he gave me. Jason’s body is a powerful, sculpted tool, and he wields it to pleasure Donovan and me first before hunting for his own release.

I feel Donovan twitch in my hand, and he snarls through a curse as he explodes.

It looks like pearls strung across his sculpted abdomen, and I find myself drawn to it. I bend down and trace my tongue along his taut skin, licking up the sticky mess he left. His muscles twitch and vibrate as I slide my tongue over him, making sure to clear every drop.

But I’m not satisfied. I want more, so I take him in my mouth. Donovan curses, and his hips buck once with surprise. I suck on him, savoring every ridge and vein. He’s so sensitive that I don’t have to wait long before I get what I want; he’s like salt water in my mouth, and I swallow him, all of him.

Even a woman as greedy as me has to stop eventually. I remove him from my mouth with a pop and settle down beside him.

“Fuck,” Jason says as he settles onto the opposite side of Donovan. Then he repeats, “Fuck. Am I imagining things, or are the three of us really good at that?”

“You’re not imagining it,” Donovan confirms.

“Insanely good,” I agree.

“What happened to the fireworks?” Jason asks.

“What fireworks?” Donovan counters, and the three of us laugh.

* * *

I’m not conscious of falling asleep. But I open my eyes, and suddenly, it’s dawn.

Through the wide window, I can see tendrils of neon pink and orange stretching across the sky.

It’s a new year, and already things are looking up.

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