Page 102 of Ink Me Three Times
Mitchell groans low in his throat, his hands finding their way into my hair, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss.
Just as I start to lose myself, I feel another presence beside me.
It’s Freddie.
His fingers brush my shoulder, and then his lips are on my neck, soft and teasing. He’s slower than Mitchell, more calculated, making sure every kiss is deliberate. His hands trace down my back, sending a shiver down my spine.
I can’t hold back the moan that escapes me. My hands find their way to his chest, and I tug him closer, craving the touch, the connection.
And then Timothy’s there, too. His lips press against my jaw, his hands roaming down my sides, exploring the curve of my waist. He pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around me in a way that feels almost protective.
Damn, I can’t get enough.
It’s overwhelming, in the best, dirtiest kind of way. I’m surrounded by them. Three bodies, three very different men, and all of them are touching me like I’m theirs.
Mitchell’s kiss is deep, consuming. His hands are everywhere, possessive, greedy, gripping my waist like he’s trying to remind me just how much he wants this. Wantsme. His lips crush against mine again, firmer this time, as if I didn’t already get the message.
Behind me, Timothy presses closer, his chest warm and solid at my back. I feel the heat of him through my clothes, his hands sliding up beneath the hem of my shirt, fingertips grazing bareskin. He’s patient, methodical, dragging the tension out with slow, calculated movements that make me ache.
And then Freddie. Sweet, smiling Freddie, who kisses the side of my neck like a secret. He’s on his knees now, hands stroking up my thighs like he’s got all night. Like he’s worshiping. Like he means it.
I gasp when Timothy’s teeth scrape lightly over my shoulder.
“Still good?” he murmurs, voice low and rough.
I nod, breathless. “More than good.”
Mitchell’s lips ghost across my jaw, and he chuckles. “That’s what we like to hear.”
Freddie nips at the inside of my thigh, and my knees almost buckle. “Can I take this off?” he asks, fingers hooking into the waistband of my leggings.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Please.”
Timothy pulls my shirt off slowly, like unwrapping a gift, his eyes dark as they take me in.
“Damn,” he breathes. “You don’t even know what you do to us.”
Mitchell moves behind me now, hands sliding around to cup my breasts over my bra, thumbs flicking over my nipples until I’m arching into him, needing more.
“We’ve thought about this,” he murmurs against my ear. “All the ways we could take you. Ruin you. Share you.”
My breath catches at that word,share. The way he says it makes it sound sinful. Delicious.
Freddie kisses down my belly, his voice a low growl. “You want to be our good girl, don’t you? Let us take care of you.”
Yes.
I can’t speak, I can only nod. Every nerve ending is lit up, every inch of me strung tight with anticipation.
Timothy steps in front of me, hooking a finger under my chin and tipping my face up to meet his. “Say it, baby. We need to hear it.”
My voice comes out in a breathy whisper. “I want all of you. Together. However you want me.”
Something shifts in the room. The tension explodes like a match to gasoline.
Mitchell lets out a curse under his breath, rough and reverent, as he unclasps my bra. The straps slip from my shoulders and the fabric falls away, pooling at my feet.
A shiver runs through me, not from the air, but from the weight of their eyes, the way they look at me like I’m something sacred and wild all at once.
