Page 34 of Room Eighteen: My Pain, Their Pleasure

My eyes are wide and Cameron knee walks onto the bed so he’s kneeling next to me. I would never say it out loud, but I think I like the way Cameron fucks my throat the best. There’s something savage about it. He doesn’t give a shit when I thrash around to try and breathe. None of them give in, but there’s something colder in the way Cameron does it.

Maybe it is connected to his own little kink, the way he wants me unconscious. I lean toward him, bracing myself before I kiss along his shoulder and up his neck.

“Cameron,” I whine.

“Yes, our little whore?”

“I was wondering something,” I whisper.

He makes a humming sound and I take a deep breath, a thread of uncertainty twining through my mind and almost shutting my mouth completely. He grips a chunk of my hair and tugs me away from him until I’m looking into his blue eyes. They were always so cold before, and there’s still an edge of that, but I also see so much warmth there. For me.

It gives me the courage I need.

“You always fuck my throat so hard, making it hard for me to breathe.” His eyes light up and my nipples harden to the point of pain, they throb with every beat of my heart as Aiden uses his grip on my hips to grind me down against him. “Would you stop if I passed out? Or would you keep going?”

Something flares in Cameron’s eyes and his fingers tighten in my hair. He leans forward and runs his nose along my throat, taking in a big lungful of air as if he can’t get enough of the way I smell. It’s sexy as hell.

“I’d pull out of your throat, but you better fucking believe we wouldn’t stop using your body,” Cameron’s voice is like gravel.

My pussy squeezes Aiden’s length and he moans out, “She loves that idea. Her pussy is telling me.”

Cameron pulls back and stares into my eyes, my mouth opens to say something, anything, even if it’s just to tuck that idea back into the furthest recesses of my mind, but the words never come.

They’re lost to me because that is the moment when Brooks presses the head of his cock against where my pussy is stretched around Aiden’s already. I freeze completely, not even able to fucking breathe.

My eyes go so wide that they start to sting. I shake my head, but it’s almost impossible with the grip Cameron has on my hair. Fucking hell.

Brooks’ voice is deep and commanding, “Jessa, breathe.”

I suck in a sharp breath, and I feel my entrance stretching to accommodate the blunt head of Brooks’ cock. My mouth opens on a silent scream as he slides into place alongside Aiden. The stretch I’m experiencing is like nothing I’ve felt before.

Cameron scoots back a little bit and yanks me forward so I’m almost laying over Aiden’s chest, but not quite. I’m suspended somewhere in the middle. It makes me feel like I’m floating.

When Brooks is as deep as he can go, he lets out a groan of pure fucking satisfaction. Aiden’s fingers are digging so deep into my hips with his short nails that I’ll be surprised if he isn’t drawing blood.

“Fuck,” I hold out the word, my mind blank as stars dance across my eyes.

“That’s right, slut, you have two cocks filling your pretty pussy,” Brooks grits out and I can tell by the strain in his voice he’s having a hard time holding back.

When Cam’s cock brushes across my lips, they part and he thrusts his hips forward, the grip he has on my hair holding my head in place. It’s too much. It’s just right. It’s not enough.

There’s a suspended moment in time when I’m being filled so full that I don’t think there is a way for time to continue to move forward. Then I hear my men take a collective deep breath and they start to move.

Together.

As one.

With me as their toy.

I moan around Cameron’s shaft, my mind coming back online, but only enough for me to feel the pleasure. I’m not capable of more.

“Your mouth is fucking heaven, pet,” Cameron grunts.

Aiden and Brooks are moving together, filling me as one, and then pulling out to the point I’m afraid they’ll pull out completely. They don’t. Instead, they slam back inside of me.

Did they tape their dicks together with my pussy or something because I’m at a loss as to how this is even possible.

There’s a ringing in my ears preventing me from hearing what my men are saying to me, but it’s as if I can feel the reverberation of their words against my skin. Words of love. Words that should make me ashamed, but only make me crave more. Words of praise disguised by pure filth.

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