Page 24 of Avalanche
Lily huffs out a laugh, then glances shyly towards her bedroom. “Well…” she pauses, tongue darting out to trace her lower lip. “We could… I was actually thinking…” She bites the inside of her cheek, shooting a quick look to where Antoine sits on the couch behind me. “It would be fun to try that. With all three of you.” Her hazel eyes dart to where Matty stands frozen beside her. “At once.”
These last words are breathy and throaty soft, and the sound of them goes straight to my cock. A triumphant rush shoots through me, electric anticipation mixed with pride. Of course she’s thought of it. How could she not? Especially after this morning.
I try to stop the smile from curving my lips, but I’m not sure if I succeed.
“At once,” I echo, half teasing, half serious. Because she needs to say what it is she wants. “And how would you do that, love?” I mean for the words to be even, unaffected, but I don’t quite manage it. Can’t quite keep the hungry rumble from them.
Lily’s lips part around an unarticulated answer. I reach out to grip her chin, to trace that lower lip with my thumb, then settle my hand around her throat, until I can feel the wild rabbiting of her pulse.
“Well?” I ask.
I feel when she swallows, the bob of her throat against my careful grip. Her jaw squares with defiance, even as her cheeks flare hotter than the worst windburn.
“Maybe… maybe we could try double penetration,” she whispers, as if speaking those words softly will negate the way they hang heavy in the air between us. Beside her, Matty goes completely still. “You know… one of you in my… um…” She licks her lips, dropping her gaze to my chest.
I release my hold on her throat to tilt her chin up, forcing her to look at me. “In your ass?” I ask, unable to keep the purr from my voice. “You want one of us to take that sweet pussy while another one takes your ass?”
“Yes,” she nods, lips parted around an exhale. “Please.”
Fuck. Fuck. That please. That flash of curiosity and desire in her eyes, even as her cheeks are burning.
She’s going to kill me.
“But there’s three of us, love,” I ask, and thank fuck I’ve got my voice under control, even if my cock feels like it’s going to punch through my jeans. “How are you going to take the third one?”
I can hear Matty’s breathing, shallow and panting. Can hear the creaking of the couch as Antoine rises to stand. But I don’t take my eyes off Lily.
“My… my mouth.” Her tongue darts out, unintentionally emphasizing her plush lips.
I remember the way those lips wrapped around Antoine’s cock, the way he coated her lips with come before she eagerly swallowed down Matty. Or tried to, rather. My gaze drifts to Matty as I remember that day on the couch. The size and shape of him. Of course I looked. Who wouldn’t, in a situation like that?
“Is that… is that even possible?” Matty chokes out, blue eyes wide with alarm as they travel up the length of Lily’s body, moving from her muscled legs to the slender arms clutching her towel. I wonder if he’s imagining that body spread out between us all, opening to take us all in, trembling and sweating between us. “I mean, is it safe?” He directs this question at me. “We won’t hurt her?”
Something powerful balloons behind my ribs at that question, at his expectant and trusting stare. I imagine him looking at me like that from on his knees, with his lips parted. Or on his back beneath me.
Or beneath Antoine.
“We won’t hurt her,” I assure him. “We’ll take it slow.” I give Lily a meaningful look as I add: “And she’ll tell us if anything doesn’t feel good. Won’t you, love?”
“Yes,” Lily nods. “I promise.”
Chapter 7
Lily
When I imagined doing this—and I’ve imagined it a lot—it always involved much less talking.
In the books I’ve read and the porn I’ve watched, these things just seem to happen. Like, there’s a natural flow that somehow magically ends up with the girl opening up like a blooming flower to take in all of her lovers. She floats on air between them, supported seemingly by raw desire alone, able to miraculously bend and arch to accommodate everyone. Her thighs never tire. She never experiences that tangled feeling of frustration when one of her lovers can’t quite find the right angle. And she certainly, certainly never sweats—at least, not more than a glistening sheen that sparkles under the moonlight, like diamonds hung in a starlit sky.
“Pass me the lube,” Liam orders.
I can feel his hands trembling where he holds my hips. Or perhaps that’s me shaking, anticipation and nerves tightening my body until I can scarcely breathe, my thigh muscles burning as I hold myself up, spread over Matty’s prone form. Matty stares up at me, palms sweaty as he grips my knees with an almost bruising hold, as if he means to anchor himself to me.
“Here it is.”
Antoine scrambles to thrust the bottle into Liam’s hands, making the mattress dip. The move has me sinking down, until the head of Matty’s cock brushes my swollen lips. I gasp at the feel of it, at the reminder of how exposed I am. That feeling only grows when lubed fingers trace my back entrance, not quite cold, but certainly not warm.
“Bend forward,” Liam urges, pressing one hand on the flat of my spine until I’m folding forward, my elbows resting on either side of Matty’s head. The move has my breasts nearly brushing against Matty’s face, and he tilts his head up reflexively, lips parted, eyes round. “Yes, like that.” The pressure at the base of my spine becomes a soothing stroke. “Are you comfortable?”
