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“Focus, Lucky,” Ford growls, squeezing my wrist.
I shoot him a helpless look, but he’s smiling at me. When my eyes drift to Leo, I cry out as Seb sucks on my clit.
“Oh God!”
He sucks on the nub so hard, my entire body shudders with need. It doesn’t take long and I explode with an orgasm. Sebastian rises to his feet, his heavy cock bobbing out in front of him. Pre-cum leaks from his tip. I lick my lips, eager to have him in my mouth. He grabs a handful of my hair and roughly pulls me so his dick is within reach. Ford and Leo have both taken to using my hand with their own curled around each one to jerk them off. Zac grips my hips and pounds harder into me from beneath me.
“Open your mouth, Clo,” Seb growls, his cock tapping at my lips.
I part my lips and he pushes inside. He’s too big. Too thick. But I try for him. My mouth strains to accept him. I gag and slobber runs down my chin. Ford lets out a hiss before his cock throbs within my hand. Hot cum spurts out, hitting my side. Seb’s grip on my hair tightens as he not so gently fucks my face. Tears stream down my cheeks as I try not to gag. I could tell him to stop and he would, but I don’t want him to.
“I’ll need some of this,” Zac says, swiping his finger on my ribs. Then, his wet finger is at my asshole. “You talked a big game in the Tahoe. One day you’ll let us fuck you here.” His fingertip pushes past the tight ring. “One day. But tonight? Tonight, you’re going to let me fingerfuck you here.”
A squeal burns through my used throat that Seb continues to ravage as Zac firmly presses his middle finger into my ass. Ford’s thumb gently caresses my hand that’s still gripping his softening cock.
“Fuck,” Zac hisses. “Fuck, you’re too much, babe.”
Seb’s thrusting becomes crazed. I’m struggling to find air, but I want to taste him so badly. “Not”—thrust—“enough!”—thrust—“Never”—thrust—“enough!” He comes with a snarl. Thick, salty cum jets down my throat. I nearly choke on it, but he gives me a reprieve by pulling out and finishing on my face.
“Jesus,” Leo rumbles. My hand that’s wrapped around his dick aches. His cock seems to swell and then his heat is splattering me.
So much cum.
Another finger pushes inside my ass with the other one. My spine straightens as I cry out. Zac comes with a feral grunt, his heat rushing deep inside me. I think I might die from him filling me to the brim with both his cock and two fingers, but it’s Ford who rescues me.
Gently, he pulls me off Zac’s dick that still throbs with his release. Cum runs down my inner thigh and the two invasive fingers pop out of my ass with a loud sound. Ford scoops me into his arms and then steals me away.
I’m so tired.
As my eyes flutter shut, I lean my cheek against his firm chest. “Where are we going?”
“I’m going to give you a bath.”
“Just the two of us?”
“Believe me,” he says with a chuckle, “I just saved your ass. Literally. As soon as Zac got hard again, he’d no doubt be trying to get in there. What I said tonight, I meant. You’re not ready. Not tonight.”
His words have relief flooding through me. I may want these guys with every fiber of my being, but I need a rest. I need practice. I need to be able to take more than two fingers without crying before I start begging for dicks in my every orifice.
“Thank you, Ford,” I murmur, angling my head up to look at his handsome face.
“For what?” he asks with a smirk.
“For loving me.”
His hazel eyes widen at my words, wiping the smirk off his face. He sets me on the counter in the guest bathroom. His thumb swipes away Seb’s cum from my mouth and then his lips press sweetly to mine.
“It comes easily with you, Lucky. You’re easy to love.”
Clunk.
I toss my tan Sig P320 on the table beside my H and K VP9 tactical. Both are still warm from this morning’s target practice. Seb and Leo already left their weapons before heading to meet with a source a couple hours’ drive from here that may have some information for us about the driver of the car that nearly hit our girl. It’s warm in Seb’s house and I yank off my hoodie before finding my range bag. Inside, among tools and extra ammo, I find my gun cleaning kit. I settle at the table and start taking apart my H and K. I unscrew the suppressor and sit it upright on the wooden surface. The smell of the oil when I pour some onto one of the cleaning cloths soothes me. I started cleaning guns for my old man when I was eight. Twenty-three years later and I still love this part almost as much as actually firing the weapons.
