Page 156 of Full Mountie

Out.

Lachlan.

Hugh.

And then Lachlan again, and Hugh doesn’t get all the way gone.

My eyes go wide.

Lachlan’s rubbing the crown of his erection against the bottom of Hugh’s cock. And Hugh is still halfway inside me.

I try to roll my hips, but I’m trapped between them.

“You want that, beautiful?” His eyes are glazed over. I bet mine are, too. Lust hangs heavy in the air as he reaches between my legs and—

Ah.

Oh.

Lachlan lets out a strangle groan from behind me as Hugh coats them both with more lube, and then Lachlan presses in.

Past Hugh, and into me, stretching me wide.

I can’t breath.

“You were built to take us both,” Hugh says.

That's probably not true, but oh God, I want to believe him. Lachlan groans from behind me. He wants to believe it, too.

And as they work in and out of me, I realize I’m going to come.

Maybe it is true. Maybe I was made for them, to take me like this.

I need— “Clit,” I manage to say, and Hugh gets his thumb there as they slowly pulse back and forth together.

Inside me, together.

Heat swirls and everything fades to a glossy, fantastic bright white as my climax begins. It’s long and heady, sustained and wild. It rocks through my entire body and shatters my brain, my heart.

It destroys me, and it’s perfect.

57

Lachlan

Istopat the grocery store on my way home to pick up celebratory foodstuff. Hugh and Tate are at Hugh’s apartment right now, loading up his bed and his weight bench.

He’s moving in. There’s no reason for him to keep paying rent on his apartment, and he doesn’t have that much stuff.

Beth’s clothes have mostly moved in, but she owns her condo, and has a lot more furniture than we have space for. That process is going to take longer, but it doesn’t matter. Maybe she’ll keep her condo as an income property.

What matters is that all her pretty dresses are hanging in my closet, and she sleeps in my bed each night.

When I get home, Hugh’s not back yet, but Beth is. She’s out on the deck reading.

I stand at the back door and just watch her. She’s stretched out on the lounge chair, her legs bare, and her skirt hiked up high on her thighs.

That’s an invitation too tempting to pass up. I quickly put away the groceries, then pour myself a glass of the lemonade she’s made, and head out to say hello.

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