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“Look at Maxwell,” he growled, his hips pushing more into her.
“Marcellus!” Her high wail only seemed to fuel him further as he slid deeper. The bite of pain wrenched a sharp cry from her, but he did not let up. Instead, he pinched her clitoris between his thumb and forefinger and started to milk pleasure from her. The burning penetration made her scream in a combination of arousal and erotic pain. Sensations rose, white-hot and overwhelming. Dizzying waves of rapture crashed into Emily and drowned her. She distantly realized that her hips were pushing back against his thrust. Ecstasy speared through her, dark and needy, filling her with delight. Her eyes widened as Maxwell began to stroke his cock more harshly on the sofa, the cord of his neck straining in pleasure.
“That’s right,” Marcellus crooned against her neck. “Max can feel how tight your ass is clamping my cock. He feels the pleasure I feel from hearing you cry out in rapture. He can feel that I am buried balls-deep in you. He can feel the craving in me that is urging me to fuck you forever, and I can feel the urge in him telling me to take you harder.”
Maxwell roared as his seed shot from him and splashed against his belly. She screamed under the hot tide of her rising orgasm and splintered. Marcellus groaned and began thrusting in her harder until his orgasm swept him under. He rolled with her to lie on his back so she splayed on him. She did not have the energy to whimper when Maxwell lifted her off him. He gently cleaned between her legs and buttocks with a damp cloth, kissing and soothing her the entire time.
Marcellus rose and poured amber liquid into a glass. She admired the power in his body as he came over to the bedding. He sank down beside her and raised the glass to her lips. She swallowed, loving the sweet taste that exploded in her veins.
They arranged her between them, both kissing her shoulders, her lips, gentling her from the explosive passion. The gentle pleasure flared, and she whimpered when heat rekindled to fire.
“Again?” she panted.
They surrounded her, enclosing her in their delicious warmth and strength. A deep vulnerability sliced through her, yet she also felt protected. She knew they would sacrifice all to make her happy, but they also had the power to crush her hopes and dreams, and that was what terrified her.
“Do you want us to stop?” Marcellus asked.
“No,” she breathed, unable to even understand how they could hunger for each other so soon.
Desire boiled in her veins as four hands roamed her body, teasing and caressing her. They roused her desire higher as they positioned her in Maxwell’s lap. He leaned against the foot of the sofa, and she reached around his shoulders and gripped the edges.
“Look at me, my darling,” Maxwell crooned.
She held his gaze as he slid inside of her swollen folds to the hilt. His hands ran over her thighs to cup her cheeks. She wetted her lips as she felt Marcellus pressing against her rear entrance. He burrowed into her, slowly sinking himself to his balls. Emily felt full, stretched, poised on the knife edge of pleasure-pain. Marcellus snaked his hands around her stomach, stroked her clitoris, and pleasure won.
They began moving with powerful thrusts inside her. Maxwell started thrusting in counterpoint to Marcellus buried inside her ass. She cried out as bliss seared her nerve endings. Perspiration soaked her hair and ran in rivulets down her back as they both took her for what seemed like hours. She knew it could not possibly be so, but she was lost in a haze of hedonistic eroticism. Male groans echoed through the room. Hot, sweet waves of ecstasy poured over her and into her. She tightened on their surging thicknesses, feeling her release gathering, building in heat and strength, until she jerked in their hold, screaming as it overtook her. She was stretched, filled, pleasured as she had never thought possible. She mindlessly chanted their names as she was engulfed by wave upon wave of shuddering release.
Marcellus held liquid fire in his arms. Emmeline tightened on him, rippling around his cock as he invaded her ass. She was screaming beneath him, in a mix of agony and bliss as he seated himself to the hilt over and over. Destructive pleasure swept through him as twin sensations swirled and owned him. He felt the combined high from the both of them fucking her, possessing her, loving her. He could feel the silken tightness of her cunt as it gripped Max, and Marcellus knew Max could feel the sensations of her ass choking the orgasm from his cock.
Marcellus buried his face in her shoulder as he rode her. Her nipples were tight rosy buds and her breasts jiggled with their thrusts, and Max captured one of her berry nipples and sucked fiercely. She cried out in wanton lust, begging for more. She flexed around Max, milking and burning him with desire. It was as if lighting speared them both at the same time. It slammed into them, devastating them with ecstasy and binding them tighter.
“I love you, Emmeline,” Marcellus groaned into her throat and was rewarded when she cried her love for him.
Passion burned them bright and delicious until they were left spent, curled together in a sweating heap, breathing heavily. They soothed her with soft kisses, easing her, whispering words of love. They lay together like that for a while, silent, the sounds of the howling winds in the night soothing. They cleaned her gently and understood her sleepy, tired gaze as she watched them.
They curved her between them, contented to lie like that, feeling the echoes of each other’s joy and contentment.
“Do you think it will always be like this?” she murmured.
“I damn well hope not,” Max grunted. “That nearly killed me.”
She laughed, chortling with delight, and suddenly Marcellus knew they were complete. He was not sure if she realized it. She had smiled, even chuckled sometimes, but this was the first time she had laughed outright since the start of the war.
“You will marry me, Emmeline,” he commanded.
She snorted, and Max grinned.
Marcellus knew she loved them because she wouldn’t have been with both of them otherwise, yet he tensed.
“Relax, you ass, she is teasing,” Max said, laughing.
She twisted on Marcellus’s chest and stared into his eyes. Her green cat eyes glowed, and he slowly relaxed.
“With your penchant for ordering, Marcellus, I must be insane to even contemplate it. I should marry Maxwell. He will allow me more leeway.”
“Hey! I will not,” Max blustered.
Marcellus captured her lips in a slow kiss, humbled by how much he loved her. “You will marry me so that our son may be titled,” he murmured.
