Page 32 of Triplets for the Pucking Playboys
Her answer is a whimper, nails biting into my sides, and then she hooks her legs higher around my waist, shifting the angle. I slide in deeper and she cries out, loud and broken, her back bowing off the couch, and I know I’ve found it—that spot that makes her unravel.
I go there again. And again. A steady, savage rhythm, fucking her like I’ve got something to prove, like I need to chase the moans right out of her mouth. Sweat rolls down my spine, sticks between us, salt and skin and the sound of slick, rhythmic friction. Her tits bounce with every thrust and I can’t take it—I cup them both, roll her nipples between my fingers until she arches into me, eyes squeezing shut. Her walls flutter and I feel her start to tremble, her body fighting the orgasm I’m already pulling out of her. She’s so close I can taste it, the tension in her thighs, the way her hands turn to fists, her voice fraying around the edges like she can’t hold it together.
“Come for me,” I growl, the words low and rough against her throat. “Come on my cock. Let me feel it.”
She shatters like glass beneath me. Her cry is high and sharp, her body locking down around me so tight I nearly see stars. Her pussy spasms and grips, milking every inch like she’s trying to drag the soul out of me. I don’t slow down, just grind into her, ride it out, pushing her through the crest and straight into thenext wave. Her legs jerk, her whole body twitching, wrecked and beautiful and mine. I bite her shoulder and groan into her skin.
Her pussy is too good, too hot, too much.
She’s trembling in my arms, her cunt still fluttering around me, but I’m not done with her. Not even close. I grip the back of her thigh and slide out slow, watching her flinch and gasp, the slippery stretch of us parting making something dark twist in my gut. Her body’s wrecked and begging, but she still leans into me like she needs more, like she’s not finished unless I finish with her.
I reach down, grip her ass in both hands, and lift.
She whimpers in surprise but loops her arms around my neck, her legs tightening instinctively around my waist. I’ve got her, every inch of her, and I stand without breaking contact, pushing her up against the wall just beyond the couch. Her back meets the wooden beam with a thud and she gasps again, her nails dragging through my hair, over my scalp, as I adjust my grip and start to move.
She moans, louder now, open and shameless. I fuck her standing, every thrust deep and brutal and fast, her body rocking against the wall, her tits bouncing with every impact. Her head tips back, neck long and bared, tongue slipping out past her lips like she’s too far gone to care how it looks. She’s gone soft and wild all at once, all noise and pleasure and surrender.
I hear the boys behind me.
Beau whistles low, filthy amusement thick in his voice. “God, look at her. Tongue out, taking it like she was made for it.”
Grey’s voice is darker, rougher, like he’s holding himself back. “Look how deep he is. She’s dripping down his cock and she still wants more.”
Sage moans harder at that, her tongue curling out farther, like she wants to taste every word they say. Her eyes roll back as I fuck into her, deeper, faster, each stroke so hard it rocksthe wall behind her. She chokes out something incoherent, hips bucking, legs clamping down around me.
Beau leans in, one hand stroking down her stomach, fingers ghosting over her clit. “Bet you’re close again, aren’t you, baby? You gonna come for him like this, in front of us, all full and fucked out?”
She whimpers—shakes her head no, but her cunt tells the truth, squeezing me tight, fluttering like she’s seconds away from losing it again. I grip her hips harder, rutting up into her, sweat sliding down my spine in spite of the chill, breath coming ragged. I’m so deep I can feel her heartbeat around my cock.
“You’re ours tonight,” I growl into her ear, voice low and wrecked. “Every inch. Every hole. Every sound. You’re not hiding from us now.”
Beau’s hand slips between her thighs again, and she jerks, crying out as I drive in harder. Grey’s watching, quiet, hand stroking slow over his cock as he stares like he’s memorizing the shape of her. Her tongue’s still out, lips wet and red, hair wild, and her whole body is a study in surrender.
Her breath is still shaking against my shoulder, her thighs quivering from the weight of me inside her, but her mouth is open again, and her hips are twitching like she needs more, like one orgasm and a rough ride against the wall weren’t even close to enough. I slide out slow, watching her wince, her body clenching down around nothing, greedy and slick and open. Her inner thighs are soaked, shining in the low light, and I can see my cum starting to trickle from between her legs, thick and wet and perfect. I groan, deep and dark in my throat, and she flinches like the sound is another kind of touch.
“Don’t go soft on me now,” she whispers, eyes half lidded, face flushed, mouth still pink and parted. “You said I was yours.”
I grip her hips hard, turn her around, and guide her toward the table—solid wood, waist-high, wide enough to brace her overit and fuck her properly. Her hands slide forward as she bends, palms flat on the surface, fingers splayed like she’s already steadying herself for impact. Her ass curves up, beautiful and bare, thighs parted just enough for me to see the slick glisten between them, the place I just left, red and swollen and soaked.
I step in behind her, guiding my cock between her thighs, dragging the head along her seam, slow, watching the way she arches, trying to push back, trying to take me again. I don’t give it to her. I tease her slit, sliding through the wet mess, letting my tip catch at her entrance, dipping in just enough to make her gasp, then pulling back out again. Her whimper is high and frustrated, a tremble of need that pulses through her spine.
“You want me back inside you,” I murmur, leaning in close, my chest pressed to her back, my mouth brushing her ear. “Say it.”
She nods, desperate. “Please.”
I grip her ass in both hands, spread her wider, and watch the way she flutters open for me again, wet and aching and ready. I push in slow, inch by inch, until I’m buried to the hilt, my hips flush with hers, my balls pressed against the backs of her thighs. She groans low, her fingers curling against the wood, her body tightening around me like she’s trying to take even more than I’m giving.
I start to move, building up to a point where each thrust makes the table creak beneath her palms, the sound lost beneath her moans and the slap of skin on skin. Her back curves with each movement, her ass bouncing into me, her body absorbing every punishing stroke like it’s a gift. I grab a fistful of her hair and pull her head back gently, just enough to make her spine bend, her throat bared to the room, her mouth open for anyone still watching.
Beau lets out a low laugh from the couch, voice thick with arousal. “Look at that. Bent over, stuffed full, moaning like it’s the best meal she’s ever had.”
Grey is stroking himself again, his eyes locked on where I’m splitting her open. “She’s so fucking wet,” he says. “You can hear it. She’s dripping all over your cock.”
I growl and pull back, then slam into her again, hard enough to make her cry out, her voice raw and ragged. Her arms shake, her whole body vibrating with tension, but she doesn’t tell me to stop. She pushes back, meeting every thrust like she needs it, like she can’t breathe without it.
I lean over her again, my chest against her back, my hand sliding around her hip to find her clit. I rub it slow at first, circling, then harder, in rhythm with my thrusts. Her knees nearly give out, her cry muffled by her own arm as she drops her head to the table. She’s close again. I can feel it. The way her muscles contract, the way she gasps with every movement, the way her cunt clenches around me like she’s about to break apart.
I bite her shoulder, not hard, just enough to leave a mark, and I whisper against her skin, “Come for me again. I want to feel it this time. I want to fuck you through it.”
