Page 130 of Rescuing Ally: Part 1

Gabe is silent, leaning back in his chair, his gaze burning into me. His hand moves subtly, sensuously stroking his thigh, moving higher to his groin. Each movement is deliberate and unhurried, a show of restrained desire.

I tug the belt free, working open the button of Hank’s jeans, dragging the zipper down with deliberate slowness. His cock is hard, straining against his boxer briefs, the outline thick and heavy beneath the fabric. I exhale, my mouth watering.

“Fuuuuck,” Hank rasps, fingers threading into my damp hair, gripping lightly at the base of my skull. “You look real pretty down there.”

I don’t look away. Instead, I drag my nails down the inside of his thighs, teasing, before leaning in, brushing my lips over the thick ridge straining beneath the fabric. Hank’s grip tightens.

“Ally.” A warning. A challenge.

I hum against him, pressing a lingering kiss through the fabric before curling my fingers around his waistband, slowly pulling his briefs down, freeing him.

God. He’s big, thick, and hard, the head already slick with anticipation.

I flick my gaze up, locking onto his as I wrap my fingers around the base, giving him one slow, testing stroke. His breath hitches. But he doesn’t break. He doesn’t react beyond the tightening of his grip on my hair and the slight tensing of his thighs.

I part my lips, flicking my tongue against the tip, tasting the salt of him, teasing before slowly—so slowly—taking him into my mouth.

“Christ.” Hank groans, low and guttural, his head tipping back, his fingers tightening in my hair,holding me there.

In my periphery, I catch Gabe shifting, his hand moving to rest on the growing bulge in his pants, not yet unzipping but clearly enjoying the view, a hungry look in his eyes.

“Now that’s a sight,” he murmurs, his voice a low, appreciative rumble. “Our girl, naked, on her knees, serving you.”

I moan around Hank, taking him deeper, hollowing my cheeks as I slide my mouth down, my fingers tightening around his base. Hank exhales sharply, his hips twitching, the muscles in his stomach tensing.

I set a rhythm—slow, teasing strokes of my tongue, soft suction, taking him just deep enough to keep him on edge but not enough to let him fall.

“Fuck,” he rasps, voice strained.

I hum in agreement, dragging my tongue along the underside of his length. His eyes darken. Then his grip tightens, tilting my head, forcing me to look at him.

“Open wider, luv. Take me deep.”

A command.

A test.

I obey without hesitation.

Hank groans, his other hand tangling in my hair as he thrusts into my mouth, deeper this time, pushing me right to the edge of too much before easing back.

I love it.

Love the way he takes.

Love the way he controls the pace.

Love the way his breathing turns ragged and how his muscles tense beneath my touch.

I wrap my fingers around his thighs, letting him guide me, taking him deeper, pushing him closer. The sounds of our pleasure blend with the distant crash of waves, the hum of arousal thick in the air.

Gabe’s movements quicken, his breaths coming in short, sharp bursts as he watches us, his eyes never leaving the sight of me on my knees before Hank.

Hank’s grip tightens, his body tensing, his breaths coming inragged gasps. He groans, a deep, guttural sound that echoes through me as he comes, spilling into my mouth. I swallow, taking everything he gives, holding his gaze as he rides out his release.

Gabe’s breath hitches, his movements becoming more urgent. He finally unzips his pants, freeing his cock, stroking himself with controlled, deliberate movements.

“You look so fucking good kneeling for Hank.” His voice is rough with desire.

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