Page 127 of Saving Sparrow
The sound of Quentin spitting in his palm reached my ears, and I knew he was about to get himself off, too. He must have closed his lips around Elliott’s dick again because Elliott started bucking his hips faster as I fought to keep the tip of my tongue inside of him.
We all moved like our lives depended on it, our combined breathing loud and desperate.
“Unngh,” Elliott cried out, his hand moving from his ass to the back of my head, pressing me against him. I couldn’t get any air into my lungs, but dying like this would’ve been worth it.
He clenched around my tongue as his body twitched, making soft, demure sounds as he came. I came next, my spine snapping straight as my cum splashed against my hand and the back of Elliott’s calves. I sank my teeth into his ass cheek while I rode the wave.
Quentin’s tremor rocked the whole bed. He always came like he was being shot out of a cannon. Nothing about him was small. Not his body, not his dick, not his personality, nor his orgasms.
I rolled onto my back when it was over, sweaty, my hand covered in cum.
“Fuck, your jizz tastes good,” Quentin said to Elliott, sounding awed. “Guelly? You okay?”
I couldn’t answer him. I couldn’t even see straight. Next thing I knew, he was on top of me, caging me in with his muscled arms.
“Guelly?” He looked paranoid, worried I’d had a change of heart, maybe.
“I’m… I’m fine,” I pushed past my dry throat.
He grabbed my wrist, sucking my fingers clean like a starved animal before sliding his cum-soaked digits into my mouth next. “Swallow it,” he ordered, then kissed me, or more like pinned me in place by the neck and shoved his tongue into my mouth. He tasted of salt and musk, the texture of his mouth creamy. I clawed at him, trying to get deeper inside for a better taste of me and him and Elliott.
Elliott.
Quentin and I broke apart, shuffling up the bed to where Elliott lay on his back, staring toward the ceiling.
“Hey,” I said softly, wiping his damp temples. “Talk to me. Did we do something wrong?” My heart now pounded with fear instead of euphoria.
Elliott shook his head, turning it my way. “No, you did everything right. That… that wasamazing.”
I kissed him with all the tenderness I had left, then Quentin took his turn. He was softer than usual, but the kiss was no less possessive and brutal.
“I can taste myself,” he whispered, tracing Quentin’s lips, “here.” He then used the fingers on his other hand to trace mine, “and here.”
“And you taste fucking unreal. Just as good as Guelly tastes going down my throat. We love you, pretty girl.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “We love you, Ellie.”
“Are you…inlove with me?”
“Fuck yeah,” Quentin and I both said. Elliott screwed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead to mine, then Quentin’s.
“Let’s get some sleep,” I said. We were sweaty and sticky, but I didn’t give a damn. I wasn’t ready to clean them off me.
Elliott popped his eyes open.“Sleep?”
“Uh, yeah,” I said.
“What if I don’t want to go to sleep?” he whispered. “What if… I want more?” He snaked shy fingers down our chests, his hands wrapping around both of our cocks. He blushed but held my stare. “Can we do more?” He turned to Quentin. “Please?”
Quentin growled, his dick already on board with Elliott’s breathless request. “Guelly?” He addressed me, but his eyes never left Elliott’s.
“Yeah?” I asked, already knowing I’d agree to anything, already knowing Elliott would own us from here on out.
“Give us the fucking rules.”
Miguel
Now
