Page 73 of Various Intentions
“One,” I said, sliding myself up and back down on Vincent.
“Two,” I said, repeating the maneuver as Vincent’s eyes did the same.
“Three.”
I nodded to Matteo, who squeezed Vincent’s nipples hard as I moved like a beast on Vincent’s cock.
“Come when you can, darling,” I panted, just as the orgasm took me. I couldn’t hold back the sound that came from my throat as I clutched Vincent’s thighs with white-knuckled fingers, the hot spike of his cock sending me over the edge and into a tumult of ecstasy.
Vincent arched off the bed and screamed behind the gag as he joined me. I met Matteo’s open-mouthed gaze as Vincent bucked beneath me and filled me with his seed, the spunk from Matteo’s earlier release lodged in his plugged passage.
Vincent screeched again then fell to grunting as my orgasm ebbed down to a milder hum and I slid off to attack his gagged mouth as Matteo released his nipples and moved aside.
As I peppered Vincent’s slack face with grateful kisses, I shot out my hand and grabbed Matteo, bringing him in to us.
“I love you both. You know that, right? I can’t even imagine what I’d do without you. I don’t want to imagine it.”
“Neither do I,” Matteo murmured between kisses, while Vincent accepted our devotion with happy, sated sighs.
Chapter Thirteen
“Skating? You mean, on ice?” I said, biting my lip as I contemplated this fresh horror awaiting me.
“Zarah wants to meet us at the canal,” Matteo replied.
“That sounds like fun,” Vincent said, folding laundry and piling it onto the sofa.
Saturday had dawned sunny and cold, but the temperature would rise to just under freezing over the course of the day.
“You can skate, right?” Vincent said, glancing at me.
“Sure,” I said. “I’ve done it once or twice.”
I picked up a shirt from the laundry basket and concentrated on folding it.
In actual fact, I had skated a total oftwotimes, and neither of those times had gone well. I sensed their gazes on me, and when I looked up, they were staring at the shirt in my hand.
“What?” I finished ‘folding’ it and placed it onto the pile of shirts that Vincent had done. It didn’t look quite right.
While I watched, my sweet, submissive Vincent slowly picked up my contribution to his pile, shook it out and folded it properly.
I crossed my arms and pouted.
“Do you know how to skate, Nic?” Matteo asked.
“Hmm. Well, depends what that means, really,” I grumbled.
Vincent glanced at me. “Can you move around on the ice and not fall too much?” he said.
“Vincent, since we are talking about ice, I’d like to suggest that you are on a very thin surface at the moment.”
“You don’t scare me,” he said, flashing his baby blues. “And you can’t skate, can you?”
I gave him a penetrating look, meant to reassert my dominance and assure him of my competency at whatever I chose to attempt. But then that seemed like too much work.
“Fuck,” I said.
Matteo and Vincent exchanged a glance.
