Page 60 of Unloved

He wants me completely naked.

“What about this?” he croons.

His fingers ghost my crease before his hands find the globes of my ass and spend time squeezing and caressing. He then kisses me—all of me. From the nape of my neck, down to my ass, and back up again.

It’s a heady feeling to be someone’s focal point. He leaves me speechless when he slides his hard shaft between my cheeks.

“What about this,” he repeats. “Can I have this?”

For weeks, Rhys and Lennox and I have just about kissed and licked and touched every inch of the other’s bodies, and it was always enough. They could touch me less or they could touch me more, and it would always be enough.

But I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about that next step, what it might feel like, whether or not I might like it.

“Yes,” I say, clenching around him.

He rocks himself back and forth into me, and the friction to my own cock against the bedding has me desperate for more.

“You feel so good,” he says. “When I’m finally inside of you, I want Lennox here so I can watch you take him in your mouth.”

I feel his hot breath on my ear. “Or maybe we can take turns.”

This whole song and dance is turning into an aural erotica courtesy of Rhys and his filthy mouth. His dick could’ve still been in his pants and I’d still be dry humping this bed like a madman.

“Before you and Lennox, sex never felt like this,” he confesses as he continues to rut against me. “It was just a thing I did.”

“And now?”

“And now I can’t get enough.” We’re both rocking back and forth, mercilessly, our bodies desperate, the perfect contrast to the calm and collected tone in Rhys’s voice. “Kissing, licking, sucking, any way I can have you both, I’ll take it.”

“We’re yours,” I tell him as my body tenses in anticipation of my release. “In all the ways you want us, we’re yours.”

“Say it again,” he rasps, his control slipping. “Say it again.”

The glide of his length between my ass cheeks is a tease of what it could be, and the way my cock pounds into the mattress has my balls tightening and every single muscle in my body seizing.

“I’m gonna come,” I announce. “Fuck. I’m gonna come.”

“Say it again,” he demands, jerking into me. “I want to hear it when I come.”

“We’re yours,” I tell him, and instantly I feel the splash of cum hit my back, like that was truly all he needed to be pushed over the edge.

“Fuck,” he groans, and the sound of his bliss has me exploding all over his bed.

Rhys drapes his front over my back, his mouth at my ear, cum between us. “Say it again,” he whispers.

“We’re yours.”

* * *

After cleaning up the bed and our bodies, Rhys and I, against our better judgment, return to bed. We’re wrapped up in one another, my leg hiked up over his hip, his arm up and around my shoulder.

“I’m wondering how I got here with you two,” Rhys says, breaking the silence. “How does a guy like me find not one, but two people who want to stick around?”

“Rhys,” I growl, hating when he puts himself down. “Don’t. You don’t think Lennox and I feel the same? You don’t think we feel lucky to have found you when the world is usually so shitty and complicated?”

I can tell by his silence that he doesn’t quite grasp just how important he is to Lennox and me. I know he agrees with me, to some extent, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice how he’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop, especially lately.

“I know I told you my dad committed suicide,” I say to him, my sated afterglow giving me loose lips. “But the part that hurt the most was that nobody saw it coming.”

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