Page 152 of Picture Perfect

She responds with a keening moan, her movements growing more frantic as she seeks her release.

"Ah, Saint..." Snowflake's voice trembles, and I know she's close. I can feel it in the way her movements become more frantic, less controlled.

"Let go, Snowflake," I urge, my own release simmering at the edges of my control. "Come for us."

She does—with a cry that sounds like freedom, her body shaking as she clings to Saint. Saint groans beneath her, his body tensing as he reaches his climax. Watching him come apart under her only fuels my anticipation. I can't hold back any longer, and with a few final strokes, I give in to the rush, my vision blurring at the edges as pleasure consumes me.

For a moment, we're all suspended in the aftermath, breathing hard, the air heavy with the scent of sex and sweat. Then, slowly, we begin to move again, ready for the next act in this dark, delicious play.

The aftermath of her release still clings to the air, but the hunger in me is far from satisfied. I watch Snowflake, her chest heaving with each breath, her skin glistening with a sheen of sweat and satisfaction. She's a vision of raw desire, and my commands have sculpted every moan that falls from her lips.

As Saint's grip slackens, we carefully lay Snowflake out on the bed, her blonde hair fanned around her like a golden halo. She's stunning, utterly debauched and yet still so innocent in the throes of passion. My gaze sweeps over her; every curve, every quiver, imprinted in my memory.

"Chess," I say, my voice laced with authority even as I can’t help but marvel at her beauty. "Your turn."

He nods, and I step back, granting him space. As he positions himself between her legs, I hear Snowflake whisper something, her voice barely audible. But the words carry weight, sinking into the silence of the room.

"I love you, Chess."

It's raw and real, and Chess freezes for just a moment before he leans down, pressing a tender kiss to her lips.

"I love you too, Addy."

Their exchange is a stark contrast to the dominance running through my veins. It’s soft and sweet and it scares the ever loving shit out of me but it doesn't quell the fire inside me. If anything, it adds another layer of intensity to the moment. This isn't just about the physical—it's about the connection, the twisted and beautiful ties that bind us together.

"Show her how much," I instruct Chess, my tone brooking no argument. And with a look that speaks volumes, he begins to move, claiming Snowflake in a way that's all his own while I stand sentinel, waiting for the moment to reclaim control.

I can't hold back any longer. The sight of Chess moving in that slow, deliberate rhythm, the way Snowflake's breath hitches with each thrust—it ignites something primal within me. My control snaps like a frayed wire, and I move forward, my hands finding Chess' hips. I grip him firmly, guiding him, increasing the tempo to a pace that matches the pounding of my heart.

"Like this," I growl into his ear, my lips brushing against the sweat-dampened skin of his neck. I kiss up his neck, each touch a brand, as I reach around to collect some of the slickness from where he and Snowflake are joined. I don't break stride as I let my fingers explore further, circling Chess' entrance before slipping inside.

Chess gasps, a ragged sound that fills the room, and it drives me wild. "Dre…" It's all he manages before his body tenses, and I feel the clenching around my fingers that signals his release.

The moment Chess shudders and spills himself into Snowflake’s pretty pink pussy, I know it's my turn. I gently push his limp form aside, and my eyes lock onto Snowflake's. Her chest is heaving, her green eyes wide and shining with a mixture of desire and apprehension.

"Hands above your head, baby," I command, my voice dark with promise. She obeys instantly, her arms stretching towards the headboard. I capture her wrists in one hand, pressing them into the mattress. "Keep them there."

Her nod is timid but eager, and I can't help the smirk that pulls at my lips. I'm close now, so close to her that I can feel the heat radiating from her flushed skin. "I won't be gentle," I whisper, my mouth hovering just above hers. "I hope you're ready for what's coming, because I'm going to take everything you have to give."

She whimpers, a sound that's both frightened and filled with longing. "Please, Dre..."

"Shh," I soothe, even as my body prepares to claim her in the most primal way. "Just feel."

I roll the condom on quickly before I lose myself in this. I line up at the entrance to Snowflake's slick heat, and I take a deep breath to steady myself. This moment, the anticipation, it's almost too much to bear. But I can't deny her or myself any longer. I need her, need this connection. I don’t have pretty words or pretty emotions. But, this is a language I understand.

I growl like a feral animal as I enter Snowflake, her tight warmth surrounding me like a glove. She's so wet, and it feels fucking incredible. Nothing and no one has ever felt like this. I’m not gentle; I can’t be. And, I did warn her. I grip her hips, using them for leverage as I thrust into her, each stroke deeper than the last.

The moment ripples with raw energy, and I'm the storm at its center. My hips drive into Snowflake like a relentless tide, each thrust eliciting gasps and moans that fuel my desire to dominate, to claim. Her hands wander down, reaching for something—anything—to hold onto, but I'm not having any of it.

"Saint," I bark out without breaking rhythm, "keep her hands above her head." Saint's dark curls bob as he nods, his large, rough hands clamping over Snowflake's wrists. His imposing presence is a silent force in itself, but right now, he's just an extension of my will.

"Chess," I command, locking eyes with him, "play with her clit. Make her feel it." The mischievous glint in his hazel eyes tells me he's more than ready to indulge in this debauched concert we're performing together. His fingers dance over Snowflake's clit, guided by the rhythm of my own movements.

I lean forward, closing the distance between Chess and me, our breath mingling in the heated space. Our lips meet, a clash of dominance and desperation, and I taste the sin and sweetness of our tangled desires. It's a kiss that speaks of shadows and light, of pleasure so intense it borders on pain.

Pulling back from Chess, I refocus on Snowflake beneath me, her body a canvas for my darkest cravings. I feel her tighten around me, her pussy contracting in waves that beckon me closer to the edge. But I resist; I'm not ready to surrender to that peak just yet.

"Snowflake," I growl, my voice strained with the effort of holding back. I pound into her harder, driven by instinct and the fierce need to mark her as mine. Leaning down, my mouth seeks her skin, kissing, nipping, lavishing attention on every inch I can reach. My teeth find the tender junction where her neck meets her shoulder, and I bite down, a primal claim that draws a strangled cry from her lips.

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