Page 145 of Coco and the Misfits

“We were going to take you out for dinner,” Atticus says, “but how about we feast on you instead?”

“So vampire-like,” I breathe, then stick my tongue out to him. “Would I be enough to satisfy all three of you?”

A loaded question.

“You’re more than just fucking enough,” Ryder says seriously. “You’re perfect for the three of us. Exactly perfect.”

And they get to work.

All thought of my disheveled hair and wrinkled clothes disappears as they start peeling said clothes off me. Into the air flies my light sweater, to the floor drops my blouse, and Zach works my loose pants off me with a focused air on his handsome face.

By now, we’re on the floor, on the thick rug before my sofa. Atticus shoved the small table away and now I’m being divested of my bra and panties so quickly I barely draw a breath before I’m sitting there as naked as the day I was born.

The three alphas kneeling in front of me are looking at me like a goddess, eyes fixed on my breasts, the curve of my hips, my mouth.

They are so handsome, still fully dressed, muscles straining in their chests and arms, cocks straining in their pants. Their lips are peeled back, snarling in their need for me. Straining at the leash. Losing control.

They are perfect.

Not bothering to undress, they fall on me like a pack of hungry hounds, lifting me so they can feast on my nipples, my belly, my pussy. Between them, they share me as if I’m their last meal on earth.

I find myself on my back in Atticus’ lap as the other two torment my breasts and eat out my pussy. Ryder, I note distantly, recognizing the dark head and the ring in his lip, he’s the one eating me out. Zach’s golden head is bent over one of my breasts.

And Atticus is fondling the other with a large hand.

It doesn’t take much. I’m emotionally drained and the combined assault of the three of them on my already aroused body is too much. Ryder licks and sucks on my clit, two fingers thrusting into me, Zach flicks his tongue against the aching tip of my nipple, Atticus squeezes my boob, and I’m crying out, shaking, my core clenching so hard I see stars.

The rush of pleasure through my body is like fire.

But they don’t stop. Ryder looks up, and a silent understanding goes between him and the others. Before I can question them about it, they flip me around, so that Ryder lies down on his back and I’m on all fours over him.

I frown.

Then I feel big hands on my ass, spreading my pussy, and another hot mouth is on me.

Atticus.

Meanwhile, Ryder loses no time in drawing my nipples into his mouth, one by one, dividing this attention between them, and Zach… He lies on his back, shoves his head under my belly, between my legs, and finds my clit with his tongue, while Atticus uses his tongue on my ass.

Together they work me until I can’t breathe, my belly tight with another impending orgasm.

“I can’t,” I whimper. “It’s too soon. I can’t…”

“You can,” Ryder says, kissing my aching nipple, switching to the other. “I know you can.”

He sucks harder on my nipples, his hands massaging my breasts, while the other two torment my pussy and ass. I gasp and moan, rocking against their mouths, Zach’s scruff and Atticus’ short beard adding to the sensations. They lick, drag their rough tongues over my sensitive parts, and delve deep into me with their tongues.

Bringing me to the brink only to leave me hovering there, trembling and aching with the need to come.

And then Zach buries three fingers into my pussy, while Atticus pushes a finger into my ass, and I scream with the suddenness of the move. The suddenness of my release, barreling through me like an avalanche, bringing burning, excruciating relief.

Look at that. I do need something big and hard inside me to come.

No surprises there.

Atticus seems to sense the direction my thoughts have taken, because he draws back and chuckles quietly.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, sitting back and pulling me into his lap. His cock is iron-hard against my backside. “So beautiful.” As Zach and Ryder sit on the rug, licking their lips, eyes dark and full of promises of more to come, Atticus gazes down at me with fondness. “And ours.”

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