Page 29 of My Three Rivals

Wyatt’s hand found my erect nipple, and I no longer needed to guide him. Gone were all his reservations, his body moving toward me, my form sandwiching between the pair.

“Is this what you’ve wanted all along?” I whispered as Atticus’ mouth trailed down along my throat, my head falling back, shoulders landing against Wyatt.

Atticus didn’t answer me, but I didn’t remain in Wyatt’s roaming hold because the taller man shoved me back to the bed, forcing his partner’s hands off me. For half a second, they merely stood over me, staring down before the pair of them climbed onto the mattress, all reservations evaporating amongst them, my grin luring them in without a doubt.

A smidgen of wicked shame rushed through me, but I ignored it. As dirty as this felt, I wanted it—I wanted them.

I smiled slyly at them, their shirts ripping over their collective heads, and I licked my lips, noting how toned and firm they both were, my reach extending to pull them against my own bare flesh the second they were shirtless.

Fingers reached up, one for each rippled chest, trailing over the hardened lines of their abs.

Once more, Atticus was front and center, his face at mine, hot breath over my mouth and cheeks, but his hands worked ruthlessly to tear away my remaining clothes.

I wriggled beneath him, helping him free my frame from my jeans, the rip of fabric only fueling my intensity to see this to fruition. Wyatt’s fingers trailed along the newly exposed skin of my thighs, the burn of Atticus’ kisses causing another surge of wetness to dampen my core.

Atticus again took the lead, flipping me over to pull off my jeans entirely. Lips traced my shoulder, Wyatt’s hot breath growing raspier, his hands getting bolder under Atticus’ confident movements, my grunts of excitement motivating him to fondle me harder.

I suddenly became aware of the fact that I was on all fours, and I bit on my lower lip, panting slightly. I peered back at them, my pulse roaring in my ears.

My tongue jutted out over my bottom lip, eyes glowing as I dared their next move. I didn’t want them to stop, but I worried my sharp tongue might frighten them off if I pushed too hard, so I said nothing at all.

Still looking over my shoulder at them, Atticus read my naked desire easily and smirked at me, splaying his huge hands over my ass, squeezing and teasing, our eyes locking in a challenge. For a minute, I thought he might not finish what he’d begun.

Sighing, Wyatt moved in front of me on the bed, breaking the silent power struggle between us. He kneeled down, and his tongue lashed out to taste my lips for the first time. A small sigh escaped his lips and mine, the sweetness of his kiss taking me aback. It was such a contrast against Atticus, the iron fist in a velvet glove approach making me heady.

Wetness had me slick already, and when I eyed Atticus through my peripheral vision again, my knees buckled. Atticus had removed his huge, erect cock from his own pants, causing my eyes to pop.

“Shit,” I mumbled, biting on my lower lip, but Wyatt again caught my mouth with his, hands growing rougher as his own crotch tightened under my line of sight. What was he hiding there?

Had I gotten in over my head?

From behind me, Atticus said, “Be careful what you wish for, Little Fire. You just might get it.”

He paused, cocking his head. “You do want it, don’t you?”

I nodded vehemently, any coyness or allure long out the window now. The gig was up. I wanted it—them.

I opened my mouth to challenge him on his assessment, but my chin jerked around, Wyatt’s own massive erection directly in my face. Again, my eyes widened. I couldn’t believe how these two were built.

Atticus spread me wide, his big hands petting and stroking the hot wetness inside me. I’d never been with two men before, but this didn’t feel like sex. This felt like a battle of wills, a determination of who could endure.

A hard slap on my ass forced a gasp from my lips, but Wyatt silenced it, slipping his tumescent cock into my mouth. Down my throat he went as another slap jiggled my ass cheek, Atticus’ fingers sliding over the slit of my middle.

I moaned and latched on against Wyatt, his hands curling around my unruly mane of hair to pull it from my face. With the third spank, Atticus followed up with his oversized shaft, slamming himself into me without any warning. I tried to cry out, but both men had too firm a hold on me, Wyatt’s grip tightening around my hair, his thickness filling my throat.

My inner walls squeezed around Atticus, sucking him in with the same rhythm as my mouth. Wyatt released a low groan when I reached up to tease his sac with my hands.

Atticus pounded at me with all the intensity I expected, his inner anger working its way into my tenderest place, his hand delivering random, stinging slaps to my ass. Each one he gave sent shivers of shock through me and made Wyatt harder in my mouth. Despite my best intentions, I felt my climax building inside me, the excitement and emotion tied with the past days catching up with me. But I hid it from them, not wanting them to have the satisfaction of knowing that this was making me hotter than I’d ever been.

Sweat formed between us, and inside me, Atticus grew harder, unable to contain himself in the throes of his own fury. My body tensed, Wyatt still sliding in and out of my mouth, and I shuddered over and over in response to Atticus’ furious pounding.

I bucked my buttocks backward, drawing my cheeks deeper around Wyatt, and the men grunted in unison.

“Fuck!” Atticus muttered as Wyatt abruptly pulled himself out of me.

I panted, staring up at him through my peripheral vision, my wobbly arms barely holding onto me as he released, Atticus only seconds behind him.

Doubled over me, Atticus reached up to tease my nipple, his orgasm still spilling in lava streaks inside me as Wyatt fell back to the bed. I allowed myself to lie flat, my body still on edge as I waited between the two for someone to speak.

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