Page 125 of Seven Lost Summers
The taste of him.
The heat of her.
The tight squeeze of her pussy pulling me under while Nate pounds into her from behind. My cock pulses, everything in me snapping, breaking, shattering in the best fucking way as I groan into his mouth, spilling inside her with a violent, shaking thrust.
Nate tears his lips from mine only long enough to growl her name, his orgasm ripping through him. I sense every jolt of it—his hips jerking, his cock twitching inside the tight grip of her ass, the guttural sound he makes as he spills deep and hard, his breath caught between my mouth and hers.
Quinn’s scream crashes through the room in the same instant. Her pussy clenches so violently around me it’s as if she’s milking every drop of cum out of my cock. Her whole body bows, every muscle snapping tight as her orgasm detonates, soaking me, drenching us in her release.
“Fuck, baby…” Nate moans into her shoulder, his hands shaking as he holds her steady. “That’s it… that’s our perfect fucking girl.”
Her head drops back, lips parted, sweat and tears streaking her flushed cheeks, and I swear I’ve never seen anything so fucking beautiful in my life. My chest heaves, hips still twitching with aftershocks as I keep my cock buried in her, unwilling to let go. Unwilling to release any part of this.
Her hands slip from my hair as she breathes out a broken little laugh, shaky and soft, before kissing me. Gentle this time. Sweet. My heart fucking cracks in half. She turns her head and kisses Nate the same way, and for a moment, the room is nothing but heat, breath, and the rhythm of three hearts trying to catch up.
Nate rests his forehead against hers, his hand sliding down to cup her cheek. His other hand finds mine over her hip, squeezing once. Silent. A promise neither of us know how to say out loud yet.
And all I can think is fuck.
This isn’t only the best fuck of my life.
This is every forbidden thought, every late-night what-if, every aching need I’ve ever buried. It’s everything.
The room hums in the quiet aftermath, heavy with heat and the ghost of every sound we wrung out of her. Quinn is sprawled over my chest, still trembling, her breath brushing my skin in uneven bursts. She feels soft and weightless, her hair damp and sticking to my collarbone.
Nate presses a kiss to the slope of her back, low and tender in a way that twists something deep in my gut.
“You did so fucking good,” he murmurs, before sliding out of her slowly. I catch the twitch in her body at the loss. He ties off the condom and heads for the bathroom.
The sound of the water rushing to life fills the silence a second later.
Quinn and I don’t move, even when my cock softens inside her. Her cheek is pressed to my chest. Her skin is warm, slick, and flushed, lips still kiss-bruised and swollen. Her breathing’s uneven. My hand slides down her waist, fingers brushing over the soft skin there, still feeling the ghost of her clenching around me.
For a long beat, we just breathe.
The only sound in the room is the low rush of the shower behind the door.
“I saw the way you looked at him,” she whispers, her voice soft, brushing against my skin.
My chest pulls tight.
She shifts, her lips grazing my jaw as she tilts her face toward mine. “When he kissed you, Theo. It wasn’t just because he wanted to fuck me.”
I don’t answer. My throat is raw, my voice caught somewhere deep.
Her fingers move slow over my chest, trailing through the sheen of sweat. “It was more than want. Nate felt that. So did you.”
The breath I let out shakes.
“It’s okay to tell him how you feel,” she says softly. Her fingers trace lower, over the ink across my chest. The black feathers of my tattoo. She follows each curve, each shadowed line.
I shift my eyes to her face, and something flickers there. Barely a second, but I catch it, including the stutter in her breath,
She shifts, rolling onto her back, my cock slips free.
The space between us seems bigger than it should.
“Quinn?” I murmur, the word quiet, careful.
