Page 62 of Good Losers (Lochkelvin Academy)

Rory Munro is inside me.

Sparks of pleasure scatter across my body at the sight, and I realize distantly that Finlay’s stroking my clit. His arm is thick and possessive, pressing firmly against the pit of my stomach, his other fingers tangling with my curls. When I glance down, water sparkles across faint white marks on his forearm. Long white lines decorate skin normally hidden by vibrant ink, and I marvel at the marks in the moonlight, wondering.

I slump against Finlay as Rory drives into me, the lingering ache of my behind something delicious now, a remnant of roughness, a sweet bite that brings pleasure to mind instead of pain.

Rory slides all the way into me, his hips canting against me. I’ve never felt anything as good as I do then. To be filled to the brim, as full and wide as this, my body taking every thick inch like it was made to. Sometimes I surprise myself with how strong I really am.

Rory releases a shuddering breath and presses another heated, avid kiss to my lips. A small whine escapes his mouth. He cradles my head with tight fingers, as though he wants to devour all of me at once. I’ve never seen him like this, undone and glazed with lust, as though the longer he’s inside me, the more vulnerable and wild he becomes.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, his thumb gently stroking my parted lips before tucking it inside my mouth. Rory slides deeper into my mouth, like he has a desperate need to fill me in as many places as possible. I accept his thumb automatically, sucking softly. My eyes flutter closed around him, soothed.

If I ever imagined losing my virginity, I could never have pictured this. The stillness of the loch. The magic of the moon. Pressed between two gorgeous boys who want me to shatter for them, who appear, at times, to be competing for that honor.

Finlay moves slickly against me, drawing tight little circles against my swollen clit and crooning sweetness and light into my ear. Rory says nothing but his eyes contain every impassioned declaration. As I heat up from Finlay’s knowing touches, Rory grows bigger and harder inside me.

A rhythm takes over. Rory stroking in and out of me and pulling me apart with his thick length, Finlay destroying me with circles, me punctuating the air with thready little cries that mean nothing and everything at once. The air grows heavy with the sounds of our music — of slapping water and suction, of entwining moans and stifled grunts.

The people who write beautiful manifestos about hopes and dreams for the future, who play party politics and engage with propaganda — they’re gone. We’re animals, bodies, objects of pleasure. We’re broken down into our truest selves, unshackling stupid human concepts and tossing aside inhibitions until the only thing that matters is our cores: of base, selfish joy.

“Fun, ye said,” Finlay mutters disbelievingly, his warm voice close beside my ear and aimed straight for Rory. “This is yer idea offun.”

Rory raises a water-darkened eyebrow at him, sinking deeper into me. “Is this not fun for you?”

There’s a small pause as Finlay laps at the pulse point on my neck. He raises his other arm against my body, sliding up to embrace my wet breasts in one swift, possessive move. Rivulets of water trail down my skin, and Rory watches this avidly, at the interplay of Finlay’s large hands fondling my dark nipples and causing water to cascade across my sternum to pool at my stomach.

“No. This is somethin’ altogether mair serious for me,” Finlay answers, and my belly tightens at the roughened sincerity in his voice.

The sight of me wet and naked seems to spur Rory into a sense of urgency. He rolls his hips into me, deep, satisfying motions that crash like waves, unleashing moans straight from my throat. Instead of keeping me tilted almost horizontally, Rory shifts me so that I’m nearly upright. My feet slide from his and wrap around his lower legs instead. I understand why when Finlay’s hands are forced to drop from my breasts, skimming down my sides with water.

Another act of possession.

These two can’t play nicely.

Rory grinds up and into me, and my breasts are slick as they bounce against the smooth wall of his chest. He watches them as though spellbound. It’s as though Rory’s created a pocket of space in this world just for us. It’s stunningly intimate, and we pant and gasp against each other’s lips.

Finlay doesn’t stop kissing my nape, though he does it with a kind of fury that makes me groan. His hand continues to spiral pleasure into my core, faster now than before, his nimble fingers building peaks inside me that I know will destroy me in one single tumult, in one avalanche that’ll come crashing across me after one point of pleasure too many.

“Ye’re such a cunt,” Finlay mutters, and only then does Rory draw away from me, tugging at my bottom lip as though wanting to make our kiss last forever.

“Seems to me, right now, that a cunt isn’t such a bad thing.” He gazes at me, heat flaring his eyes. “Something good to warm a man. Something strong to hold him tight. Something sweet to taste and pure to touch.” He punctuates each point with a thrust so deep it resonates within me, curling obscene heat through my system. He leans forward, breathing softly. “Something with enough power to drive both saints and sinners wild.”

I arch into him with a trailing, dragged-out moan. I’ve never felt like this before. My body is no longer my own. It moves without my say-so, steering itself into better positions and taking me along for the ride. In all honesty, I don’t even know what “me” is anymore. It’s a concept that now feels wholly unimportant. I’m a body, a physical being, a — I swallow —sexualbeing, consumed by desires and the constant coil of pressure building inside whatever supposedly pretty shell houses the entire concept of me.

It’s this realization that sends me crashing toward bliss. By not being me, by beingmore thanme, I taste true liberty. It’s either an out-of-body experience, or a truly in-body one, and Finlay’s fingers tighten and wind me into steady, heady ecstasy. I cry louder than I have all night as Rory surges forward, sheathing himself into me as completely as possible, deconstructing me and splitting my body like an atom.

And then I unravel.

Finlay ticks me over for one last time too many, and I erupt. Quivers take control of my body before I collapse as a mindless, boneless wreck. My orgasm is a dramatic beast, and I roar out its power into the heavy night air. I shudder in Rory’s arms, clamping Finlay’s hand into the tight space created by the three of us. He continues to nurse my clit, eking out every single convulsion of my body, lighting up every single raw nerve as though it’s a goal, a game. I cry and I sob against Rory’s damp shoulder, my hair falling into my eyes.

My mind swims in bliss. Hedonistic pleasure spirals from my core and gushes down my limbs. My hands slap uselessly against the water’s surface, searching for something to hold. I find it in Rory. I grab his long blond hair, yanking him forward and slamming his awe-slackened mouth to mine. It’s a hot, furious kiss, and I use the power of it to tip him into the same state of wonder I find myself floating in. He stiffens inside me, growing and groaning as my body convulses and tightens around him.

I want him inside me forever, but he’s too quick. He pulls out of me, and my body clamps around nothing. I feel bereft, but there’s no time to mourn him, because soon his cock emerges from the water, all the many, many inches of its slick, reddish-pink glory. I watch Rory through shuttered eyes, aware of Finlay wrapping me securely between his arms, of Finlay’s erection pressing insistently against the seam of my backside again. I see Rory’s fist tighten around his cock, giving it long, liquid-fast strokes, and then finally, with a deep groan that shoots a fresh wave of arousal throughout my body, Rory comes.

His seed strikes my stomach, just below my breasts, thick and white and hot. I glance down at it in awe, my chest dipping and swelling with breathlessness. I’m lightheaded and strange. The only thing keeping me upright in the water is Finlay, and after a wild minute of urgent pressure as he pistons his hips against me, cum spurts thickly from his cock and onto me.

“I love you,” he whispers into my ear, collapsing against me as he nuzzles my jaw. “I love you so fuckin’ much, sassenach.”

Finlay shudders around me, a tight, furious motion that vibrates inside me. He still grinds against me, as though to gift me with every drop of cum, as though to make the moment last, as though to drag every hint of it out as an offering to the moonlight.

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