Page 196 of Rescuing Ally: Part 1

“My turn,” he growls, his voice rough with desire. He unbuttons his jeans, his cock springing free, hard, and ready.

He doesn’t make me wait—doesn’t give me time to brace. One deep, unrelenting thrust, and he’s inside me, stealing the breath from my lungs. A groan rumbles from his chest, feral and raw, vibrating through the ropes that hold me suspended.

His hands grip the silk bindings above, not to steady himself—but to control the motion. He doesn’t thrust. He moves me.

My body moves with the rhythm he sets—rocking forward, back, forward again—each arc driving me onto his cock with a force that makes the ropes creak and my breath hitch. It’s not just penetration—it’s propulsion.

Gravity.

Momentum.

His strength turning my restraint into power.

He watches me writhe, breath coming hard, muscles shaking, the cords biting into my skin just enough to anchor me to this moment. To him.

To the brutal beauty of surrender.

The room fills with the sound of flesh meeting flesh, the creak of the rope, and the raw, primal sounds of our pleasure. Hank watches, his eyes hooded, his cock already stirring again as he sees me take Gabe, sees the rope bite into my skin, sees the ecstasy on my face.

Gabe’s eyes never leave mine, his gaze intense, his love and desire burning bright. He leans in, his lips capturing mine in a brutal, passionate kiss, swallowing my cries as he drives into me again and again.

As Gabe finds his release, his body shuddering against mine, he presses a fierce kiss to my lips before stepping back, chest heaving.

Hank steps in—no hesitation, no delay—his eyes molten with hunger as he sizes up the scene. He adjusts the ropes, lowering me slightly and tilting my hips just so. Suspended and weightless, I’m nothing but a plaything in their hands.

Hank grips the ropes, not my body, and uses them to swing me forward—lining me up perfectly with Gabe’s cock. My mouth hovers inches from his growing erection.

“Open your mouth, luv,” Hank growls, voice sharp enough to cut through the haze. His hands never touch me directly—only the ropes, only the control.

I obey, lips parting as Gabe steps in, his cock already thickening beneath my gaze. He groans as he slides between my lips, his hands fisting in the ropes just above my head, steadying himself.

Then Hank pulls me back.

My body jerks in the harness, swinging away from Gabe and slamming down onto Hank’s cock, buried deep. Back and forth.

Hank controls the rhythm, pulling the ropes with deadly precision—driving me onto him, then forward, mouth re-filling with Gabe.

It’s not just sex—it’s orchestrated perfection, a rhythm of bodies and rope, and raw, unrelenting desire. I am nothing but sensation swinging between them, claimed from both ends.

Gabe’s hands tangle in my hair, his grip tightening as he begins to move, his hips fucking my mouth in tandem withHank’s thrusts. Their rhythm is synchronized, their control absolute, and I’m lost in the pleasure of being taken and loved by them both.

Hank’s voice is rough, his breath ragged as he watches me take Gabe deep, watching his cock disappear into my mouth.

“That’s it, luv.” His thrusts become harder, more insistent. “Take him deep. Take us both.”

The room fills with the raw, primal sounds of our pleasure, the wet sounds of sucking and fucking, the low groans and gasps of exertion. I’m suspended between them, reveling in the pure, unadulterated pleasure of it all.

Gabe’s body tenses, his cock throbbing in my mouth as he finds his release. My body convulses with my orgasm as Hank drives into me, his pace relentless, his control unbreaking. Ripples of pleasure skate along my nerves.

As Gabe pulls away, Hank’s grip on my hips tightens, his thrusts becoming faster, more urgent. He’s chasing his own release now, his body tense, his breath ragged. With a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside me, his cock pulsing as he comes, filling me with his heat.

As they lower me down, their hands are gentle, their touch tender and reverent.

“You did so well, luv. So fucking well.” Hank presses a soft kiss to my forehead, his eyes filled with love and pride.

Gabe cups my cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear, his eyes filled with warmth and adoration. “You’re incredible, sweetheart,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “Absolutely incredible.”

Later, wrapped in one of Gabe’s oversized shirts, my skin still marked by the ropes and their touch, I watch them move through the house, doing their usual security check—silent, focused, a rhythm of protection neither of them seems capable of breaking.

---