Page 27 of Avalanche
Liam answers this movement with another thrust, and another. I gasp at the feel of it, at the slick slide of Liam and Matty within me, at the fullness. At the way every part of me seems to be singing with bursts of light, white sparkles dancing at the edges of my vision, cascading across every one of my nerves.
“Fuck, that’s good.” Liam pants his approval as the two of them find a rhythm. They don’t quite move in time, but rather in a sort of counter-rhythm, with Liam pulling back when Matty pushes forward. “Just like that. Shit, Matty, I can feel you. That’s your cock—I can feel you through her.”
Matty pants against my chest and I arch against him, nipples aching as I drag them across his cheek, his chin, his parted lips.
“Suck her tits,” Liam grunts, releasing his hold on my hips to cup my breasts, lifting them as if in offering to Matty’s mouth.
Matty obeys, a strangled sound catching in his throat as he wraps his lips around one tight nipple, teasing it tentatively for a moment, then drawing it in deep. Liam’s fingers tease my other nipple, pulling and twisting.
I throw my head back, an open-mouthed cry escaping as electricity rushes through me. The move has me staring almost unseeingly at Antoine, kneeling once more on the bed beside Matty’s head, his eyes fixed on the scene before him in awe, his cock stretching up against a taunt stomach.
I lick my lips at the sight of it, at the way the precum pearls at the tip, at the way it moves each time the mattress dips, slapping faintly against Antoine’s belly in rhythm with Liam and Matty’s thrusts. I drag my gaze up to Antoine’s face, to those full lips parted in anticipation and eyes with pupils blown so wide the vivid green is barely more than a thin rim.
“Give it to me,” I whisper, the words throaty and hoarse.
I think of how sad he looked earlier today, of the frown that marred his beautiful features when he was reading his phone at breakfast. I’d wanted to take that sadness away. To make him forget, at least for a moment. About missing his grandpa’s funeral and the way his family has rejected him.
I wanted to make him happy.
Antoine dips his chin in silent acquiesce, thighs quivering as he carefully edges towards me on the mattress. “Are you sure?” he asks, his lower lip catching in his teeth as he stares unabashedly at Liam and Matty, at the way I’m pinned between them, at the way they relentlessly drive into me, at Liam’s hands and Matty’s mouth on my breasts.
“Please,” I gasp, the exhale punching from me when Matty and Liam both drive deep at once. “Please, Antoine.”
He doesn’t make me ask again.
Long fingers of one hand tangle in my hair as the other grips my chin. I open for him, moaning at the salty taste of precum on my tongue, saliva pooling in my mouth as I wrap my lips around him. He trembles, his gaze fixed reverently on my face, pausing with barely more than the head of his cock between my lips, as if doubting whether he should do this. I hollow my cheeks, trace my tongue around the head, teasing the foreskin, then sucking gently at the dimpled divot, as if I mean to draw more of that salty flavor from him.
I want this, I silently tell him, I want you inside of me too.
Antoine moans, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, fingers tightening against the back of my head as he drives his cock in. He’s careful though, his movements slow and deliberate, never going too deep, stopping before he hits the back of my throat.
“That’s it,” Liam rumbles through panted breaths.
Liam pulls back, until barely more than the head of his cock is inside of me, then thrusts forward. Pleasure bursts through me and I cry out, the sound muffled around Antoine’s cock. Matty’s hips rock against me in response, fast and rhythmic, as if he’s lost all ability to control himself, as if all he can do now is chase his own pleasure. The frantic movements have Matty rubbing against my clit, and I find myself trying to sink deeper onto him, trying to open up more to him in an effort to chase the building pleasure. All the while, Liam’s cock slides in and out, pace languid but each thrust deliberate, almost harsh.
My moans become rhythmic, pleading. I lap at Antoine’s cock, trying to take more of him in than he’ll give me, whimpering in frustration when he doesn’t.
“Fuck her face,” Liam barks out. “I want to see her swallow you down. You aren’t so careful when I’m sucking you off.”
“I don’t want to hurt her,” Antoine protests. “She’s… you guys are…” he shakes his head, then tilts his chin to where Matty and Liam are driving into me, to where Matty is panting wildly against my breasts, his lips moving from one aching nipple to the next as Liam holds them out for him, practically feeding me to him. “Putain de merde,” Antoine hisses, when I give a particularly loud moan around his cock, “You guys are fucking ruining her.”
“She loves it. Don’t you, Lily?”
I nod, pulling back to pant around the head of Antoine’s cock.
I’m so full, stretched and open, every nerve in my body alive with what these guys are doing to me. I can feel my pleasure spiraling upwards, a dangerous climb threatening to drop me off the most incredible of cliffs, promising to break me.
But it’s more than that.
I’ve never felt closer to anyone in my entire life. What we’re doing, it’s not just a physical thing. There’s a gentle sort of connection running through us all, a whisper of those words that have been resting unsaid for weeks now in the stroke of their hands on my skin, in the press of Liam’s lips against the back of my neck, in Matty’s gasping breaths against my breasts. In Antoine’s intense stare and the vibrations racking through him as he holds himself back.
“Please,” I whisper, when Antoine pulls away. I squeeze my eyes shut, tears threatening the edges of my vision, my throat aching with the words I’ve been wanting to say but haven’t dared to.
I love you. I love you guys. You’re everything to me. I want this. I want you.
I know it’s crazy, especially now, when I’m sweating between the three of them, when I’m moments away from coming and I can barely think clearly enough to string together more than a handful of words. When my voice is raw from crying out with pleasure.
But I’ve never felt more certain of anything in my entire life.
