Page 16 of Triple Pucked
Claiming our love, home, and future.
Knowing that vaginal penetration isn’t enough to push me over the edge, he pushes me against the post, making sure that my clit is cruelly — earth shatteringly — rubbed on each thrust.
At the same time, his kissing is relentless.
“Thirty seconds,” D’Angelo whispers.
I whine.
I’m pinned beneath him, held and safe and pushed with no escape toward an orgasm that is being ripped from me.
Almost there…
“Ten seconds.” D’Angelo’s breath is hot against my neck, as his cock is hot inside me. “Wife.”
Something inside me breaks at the word.
“Husband,” I murmur.
D’Angelo stiffens behind me, affected by the word that I know he wishes could be real, even though we’re only playing at this. We can’t marry because I won’t choose one man above the other, even though in my heart, I’m already married to all three of them.
Then he is coming, curled over me like he can crawl into my skin.
And I’m coming too, hard and painful and shocking in its intensity.
When I scream, D’Angelo slams his palm over my mouth.
“We don’t want to scare the neighbors.” He sounds as out of breath and as wrecked as I am. “Actually, we don’t have any. We can be as loud and debauched as we want. This really is our perfect home.”
Home.
It truly hits me then that D’Angelo has designed a true home for us.
Have the four of us found our forever home together?
A contentment that I didn’t know I could feel floods me. It’s a safety in my relationship and dynamics, despite the pressure and dangers that we need to hide our true love from the public.
In private, we can show it.
In private, we have a family and a home together.
All of a sudden, something vibrates against my hip.
I wet my lips.
Did D’Angelo bring a vibrating sex toy for round two?
D’Angelo hushes me. “Quiet, cara mia.” He tightens his hold over my mouth, before reaching behind him and then scrabbling to pull something out of his pocket.
What the hell is he doing?
Then I hear the unmistakable sound of D’Angelo answering his phone…to my dad. “Hello, coach.”
My eyes widen.
What the fuck?
Is D’Angelo seriously talking casually on the phone like he hasn’t still got his cock in my pussy and his cum dribbling down my thigh?
