Page 16 of Hooked On Them

Dominic grabbed my purse, fumbling through it until he found what he was looking for. He tore the packet open with his teeth, his eyes never leaving mine as he rolled it down his length.

I pressed myself back against Carter’s chest, moving my legs so that my feet were flat on the couch. “Nice and slow at first.”

Dominic nodded, positioning himself between Carter’s and my spread thighs. He traced his tip through my folds, teasing me, before pressing it against my entrance where Carter was already buried deep.

“Relax.” Dominic’s voice was surprisingly gentle as he began to ease forward. “That’s it, let me in.”

The stretch was an immediate and intense burning pressure that made me gasp. Carter stayed still beneath me, his fingers stroking my arms soothingly.

“Fuck, it’s tight.” Dominic groaned as he inched forward.

“You can take both of us, baby. Deep breaths.” Carter moved my hair off one shoulder and kissed my neck. “We’re going to fill you up so good with our cocks.”

I focused on the feeling of inhaling and exhaling, the initial discomfort giving way to a fullness that was unlike anything I’d experienced before. When Dominic was finally seated fully alongside Carter, all three of us momentarily frozen by the overwhelming sensation, a laugh bubbled out of me.

“What’s so funny?” Carter’s voice was strained with the effort of staying still.

“I’ve been wanting to put Wilson in his place all week, and now look at us.” The irony of how quickly power dynamics could shift in the most intimate of ways wasn’t lost on me. My laughter dissolved into a moan as both men shifted inside me, the delicious friction making my inner walls quiver.

Dominic growled, nipping at the sensitive spot where my shoulder met my neck, leaving what would surely be a mark. His tongue soothed the skin as he began to move in a shallow thrust, the drag of his cock against Carter’s creating an overwhelming pressure that had me seeing stars.

“Fuck, that feels amazing.” Carter lifted his hips, starting to move in time with Dominic.

They found a rhythm, one thrusting in as the other withdrew, ensuring I was always filled to the brim. The couch creaked beneath us, our sounds of pleasure and our bodies joining the only noise on this part of the yacht.

“You like that, Coach?” Dominic’s voice was rough with desire, his eyes burning into mine as he drove into me. “Do you like having both of us inside you?”

“Yes,” I gasped, one hand gripping Carter’s thigh, the other clutching Dominic’s shoulder. “Don’t stop.”

The pressure was building inside me again, a tidal wave of sensation threatening to overwhelm me. Both men seemed to sense it, their movements becoming more frantic and less coordinated.

“Are you going to come all over our cocks?” Carter’s hand slipped between us to rub my clit. “Take it, Nora. Take it all.”

That was all it took. I shattered, my body squeezing both of them as Dominic took my mouth with his to silence my cry.

Carter’s hips jerked erratically under me as he panted and groaned into my ear, his body shuddering beneath me. Dominic followed moments later, his thrusts becoming desperate before he stilled, buried deep inside me, his kiss faltering as he found his release.

For a long moment, we stayed like that, the night air cooling the sweat on our skin. The reality of what we’d done hadn’t quite hit me yet, but sandwiched between them, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

Chapter7

Double Crap with a Side of More Crap

Nora

The first rays of morning sunlight filtering through the window were like tiny daggers to my retinas. I blinked slowly, taking inventory of my current situation. To my left, Carter’s arm was draped across my waist, and to my right, Dominic’s muscular thigh was pressed against mine. Both men were still sound asleep, their breathing deep and steady.

Holy hockey pucks. I’d actually done it. Not once, but twice. The memory of our escapades on the flybridge, followed by the encore performance in the room, made heat rise to my cheeks. I might not be hungover, but I was feeling... something. And it wasn’t just the soreness in muscles I hadn’t used in interesting ways since I’d moved to New York.

With the stealth of a ninja, or at least someone trying not to wake two very naked men, I carefully extracted myself from between them. The cool air hit my skin, and I suppressed a shiver as I surveyed the various articles of clothing scattered around the floor like breadcrumbs marking our path of debauchery.

This was fine. Totally fine. I’d had plenty of casual hookups before. Granted, usually not with two guys in the same hole at once, and definitely not with one of my players, but... details. The weird flutter in my stomach when I glanced at Dominic’s sleeping form was probably indigestion from the champagne. Nothing more.

Speaking of which, I was never drinking again. At least not during hockey season. Professional lines had been crossed that I’d spent years carefully maintaining, and while I couldn’t exactly un-ring that bell, I could make damn sure it didn’t happen again.

I gathered my dress and purse, tiptoeing to the bathroom like I was diffusing a bomb. Once safely inside, I checked my phone. It was six, and morning skate was at eight. I still needed to get home, shower, and somehow transform from a woman who had a night of mind-blowing sex with two men to a completely professional coach.

My reflection in the mirror told quite a story. My neck bore evidence of enthusiasm that would require strategic scarf placement or an obscene amount of cover-up, and my hair looked like I’d stuck my finger in an electrical socket. I quickly pulled it up into a bun with the hair tie I always kept in my purse for emergencies. Like post-threesome walk-of-shame emergencies, apparently.

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