Page 62 of Perfect Convergence

She smiles, nodding.

“Good. Because Oliver and I have a little game going. We want to see how many times we can make you come tonight. I, for one, am pretty curious.”

“Oh my god,” she whispers. “But women—women can come a lot.” Her hesitancy is contradicted by the way she starts grinding against me.

“I’m well aware, sweetheart.” With a short kiss, I say, “If you need us to stop, you tell us, okay?”

“Okay.” She relaxes, resting her forehead against mine as she rides me. It feels good. Too good, considering I’m saving my cum for someone else tonight.

Elliot comes up behind Wren, stepping in between my legs. “Lay back.”

I do, pulling Wren with me, giving Elliot access to her ass. He fingers her a little bit more before pressing his lubed-up cock into her.

It’s just an inch or so, but Wren whimpers. Then she takes a couple deep breaths. Her hands are splayed across my chest, her body pressed to mine, and I can feel her heart beating wildly.

Ell slides in more, and I groan at the feeling of him, only separated by a thin wall. I thrust up into Wren, and he grunts.

“Oh god.”

It’s Wren who says it, her fingers digging into my pecs. I do it again, in time with Elliot, and her eyes roll into the back of her head.

Then Elliot fists her hair, pulling, and I help push her up. He doesn’t let go, instead holding it as he fucks her ass. I pick up my pace, too, grabbing her wrists and holding them.

I love seeing her like this—helpless, only held up by us, and completely fucked to oblivion. It’s beautiful.

Keeping her wrists restrained with one of my hands, I reach down and flick her clit with the other. She cries out, her body jerking, so Elliot wraps an arm around her waist to hold her still.

She clenches around me when I massage circles into her clit, and I groan. She feels so warm and tight with us both filling her, and the sensations of Elliot rubbing against my dick are heavenly.

“How does it feel?” Elliot says, letting go of her hair and gripping her chin instead. He turns her head so she’s looking at him. “Being fucked like this? Only sluts let two people fill them at once.”

“Perfect,” she whispers. “It feels perfect.”

He kisses her, and it’s demanding and hard, dominating and controlling. There isn’t a single thing she can do, since he’s holding her there and I’ve trapped her wrists. And if the way she practically dissolves into the kiss is any indication, she loves it.

Oliver is similar in a lot of ways. Take away his control, and that’s when he feels the most free. Euphoric—that’s how he describes it.

When I look over at him, he has a greedy look in his eyes.

“You wish this was you?”

He scowls and flips me off.

“Wren. Fuck,” Elliot grits out. Then he slams his lips to hers as he comes, holding onto her like she’s his lifeline.

It pushes her over the edge, too, and I groan at the feeling of them both coming. Thank fuck neither of them lasted long.

Elliot lets Wren down gently, and I release her wrists so she can hold herself up. Once I’m sitting up, I lift her off my cock, and then Elliot crawls on the bed and pulls her onto his lap. She leans her head against his chest while she tries to catch her breath.

“That was five,” I say, pushing her hair out of her face.

Elliot frowns. “Five what?”

“Orgasms.” I smirk. “Oliver and I want to see how many times we can make her come.”

Elliot’s chest shakes with silent laughter as he stares down at the limp woman in his arms. “You sure she can take more?”

She perks up then. “Yes. I can.”

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