Page 25 of Triplets for the Rival MC

Our hands explore the planes of each other’s bodies. I trace her voluptuous curves with my fingertips, worshipping every inch of her smooth skin. I lift her onto the countertop, the surface now serving as a dining table for an entirely different kind of dessert.

“You’re beautiful,” I tell her.

My arousal is evident, my erection tenting the front of my pants. But my pleasure is secondary. I want to show Tori how much I want her, how incredible she is. I want to worship her as she deserves. I want to taste her.

She arches her back as I trail kisses down her body, parting her thighs to reveal the perfection between them. My fingers trace the folds of her slit, feeling how she grows wetter with every caress. She moans as I glide my finger inside her, thumb stroking the clit, while I suck on her nipple.

It’s everything I imagined and more.

She moans for more, reaching for my hardness, but I want to take my time. I want to taste her.

I bury my head between her legs, scenting her arousal before I slowly trace circles with my tongue around her clit. My fingers work in a slow, steady rhythm, finding the right motion that makes her gasp my name.

“You taste so good, baby,” I tell her. I want her to know how perfect she is.

“Cyrus,” she moans again. I could hear her say my name like that a thousand times and never grow tired of it.

She grips my hair, pushing my head closer, hungry for more. She grinds her hips, willing me to move faster, deeper, harder, but I’m not Hunter. I want to give her a wholly different, slower, more sensual experience. After all, she wants all three of us for our differences. For what we can each offer. I want to show her that I can provide more than just a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on. I want to show her the joy of a slow, intimate connection.

I can feel her climax building. Each time she nears the edge, I pull back slightly, bringing her close but never allowing her to find release, knowing when she does, it will be all the sweeter.

I pause momentarily, ignoring her protests not to stop, and carry her over to the couch. I want her to be comfortable, to feel completely safe, completely relaxed. She looks up at me through hooded eyes, even more beautiful now that she’s letting herself go. Tori is always so worried, so self-conscious, like the weight of the world is on her shoulders. I want to take that from her. To shoulder her burdens so she can fly.

She pulls me to her, kissing me deeply. This time, when she reaches for my boxers, I don’t stop her. I help her pull them off, allowing myself the brief pleasure of the feel of her hand, stroking my erection, making me even harder, before I return to pleasuring her with my tongue.

“I want you to fuck me, please,” she gasps.

“I don’t have a condom.”

“It’s okay, I’m on the pill,” she assures me.

My willpower is good, but not that good. I can’t resist. Tori guides my cock to her ready and wet entrance. I push inside, slowly, taking my time, allowing myself to feel every inch as I delve deeper inside her. She’s so tight, so wet, I worry I’m going to explode there and then. I take a breath, closing my eyes and holding still for a moment to regain my control.

She reaches up to touch my face, and I open my eyes, locking with hers. “Stay with me,” she murmurs.

I kiss her, hips moving, thrusting in and out. Our bodies move as one. We kiss passionately, tenderly. We connect on a deeper level that goes beyond sex. It’s like she’s sharing part of her soul with me. Sex has never felt this right before.

“Tori,” I say, unable to find more words.

“Yes, Cyrus, more. I’m so close,” she moans. “Cum with me.”

Her words unravel me and I can’t hold back any longer. I thrust faster, deeper, and harder. She digs her nails into my back, pulling me close. Our tongues intertwine as we reach the top of the mountain, tumbling over the edge of the cliff together as we reach mutual climax. Her orgasm lasts longer than mine, her pelvic floor tensing and pulling the last of mine out of me while hers ripples through her.

I hold her close, kissing her gently. She rests her head on my chest, smiling up at me, satiated and blissful.

“You’re perfect,” I tell her.

She pulls a face, rolling her eyes. “You have to say that, we just had sex.”

“I mean it.”

“You’re sweet,” she tells me, kissing my cheek. “And that was incredible. I didn’t think anything could top dinner, but you proved me wrong.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” I chuckle.

Relief floods me that I was able to give Tori as much pleasure as she gave me. I don’t want to compete with my friends, but there’s naturally always a bit of competition among most friends. Even if we’re all happy to share, I wouldn’t want to be the one who’s bad in bed.

“Do you think the others will be mad?” she says, biting her lip.