Page 174 of Rescuing Ally: Part 1

“Now you get to be fucked.”

He doesn’t wait.

Doesn’t tease.

He takes.

A sharp thrust—not just possession but claiming. My gasp is swallowed by the couch beneath me, my nails scraping against leather as my body takes him.

Hank growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating through me. His hands flex at my hips, dragging me back onto him, setting a brutal, punishing rhythm. The couch shifts beneath us, the force of each thrust sending shocks up my spine.

Gabe’s breath ghosts over my ear, his presence a dark, smoldering heat just behind me. His hands skim my arms and my back,teasing over my ribs before sliding under my jaw, tilting my face up.

His lips brush my cheek, so soft in contrast to Hank’s raw force. “You take him so well,” he murmurs. “Like you were made for this.”

A strangled moan escapes me, body arching, trembling under their hands, between their control.

Hank grunts, his pace unrelenting, his dominance absolute.

I choke on my breath, my body tightening, pleasure rising fast and hard, crashing into me.

Hank shudders against me, fingers pressing bruises into my hips as he buries himself deep, a final, devastating thrust stealing what little air I have left.

For a moment, silence—just heavy breathing, slick heat, my body still trembling from the aftershocks.

Then, hands.

Gabe’s.

Sliding over my skin, coaxing me upright, turning me with a grip firm enough to make my knees weak. His gaze burns into mine—demanding, knowing.

Hank’s hands are still on me, keeping me steady. He shifts, moving to sit on the couch, pulling me down into his lap, his grip spreading my thighs apart.

I barely have time to catch my breath before Gabe steps between us, fingers wrapping around my chin, tipping my head back so I have no choice but to look at him.

His other hand trails down, his palm pressing between my thighs, teasing over my oversensitive flesh, making me gasp, shake, and crave.

“My turn,” Gabe breathes, eyes dark with hunger.

Hank leans back, his legs spreading wider, keeping me in place, my thighs parted over his. His arms tighten around me—not just holding, but controlling. His grip snakes up, his hands wrapping around my wrists, pulling them behind his head, stretching me open, helpless against him.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, lips at my ear, his breath warm, grounding me. But his voice? That’s pure command.Possession.

Pinned, exposed, I have nowhere to go.

And then Gabe kneels.

Between us. Between our legs.

His hands grip my thighs, firm, steady, his fingers pressing into my skin as he shifts forward, his body brushing against Hank’s, against mine.

I can feel everything—the heat rolling off both of them, the way Gabe’s breath stutters slightly before he exhales slowly, measured.

There’s no hesitation.

Just purpose.

He grips my hips, anchoring me as he lines himself up, teasing the barest inch inside before he drives forward, filling me in one deep, perfect thrust.

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