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Her head fell back against his shoulder. He kissed, then nipped at her neck. Sexy, erotic sounds tumbled from her parted lips.
Rory could feel Christian increase his tempo slightly. Until they were all smoothly rocking together and Rory was half out of his mind, Bayli was murmuring almost incoherently, and Christian’s mouth was on her breast, toying with her nipple.
A distinct hunger ate at Rory. Not just the need to send them all over the edge but a sense of unity gripped him—that elusive sensation he and Christian had been searching for, for well over a decade when they’d discovered their mutual penchant for sharing women and their gift for pleasuring them.
This went beyond physical stimulation. Rory was completely taken by Bayli. And knew Christian was, too. They both had been … from the very beginning.
That got Rory going even more.
“Christian,” he said in a strained voice. “More.”
“Yes,” his friend agreed. And pumped with more gusto.
“Oh, yes!” Bayli wailed. “Yes!”
“Make her come,” Rory demanded. “Fuck her harder.”
His restraint was slipping. But the way Bayli writhed against him and loudly whimpered, completely uninhibited, spurred him on. He had to feel her come with his dick in her ass. To feel her cream seep from her wet pussy to his balls. To know he and Christian had worked her into this frenzy that took her even higher than ever before.
“This is so good,” she choked out. “So amazingly good.”
Christian’s hips bucked and Rory kept himself stabilized as her ass wiggled against his pelvis.
And then he heard the hitch in her breath and he knew she’d reached that point of no return.
“Harder, Christian,” he commanded.
Rory could feel how deep inside her Christian was. Could feel his powerful strokes. Bayli
was clutching them both and letting out breathy little moans.
And then she squeezed them both tight, screamed Rory’s name, followed by Christian’s. Rory absorbed the quaking of her body as the climax tore through her and she milked both their cocks.
He couldn’t hold on a second longer. “That’s it, honey. Christ, that’s so good. Bayli!” He erupted. Christian was right there with him. Their gazes locked on Bayli as she kept coming.
* * *
Later that evening, after Rory grilled mahimahi and served it with rice and steamed vegetables, Bayli lay between her two men, her arm wrapped around Rory’s waist as her breasts pressed to his back and Christian curled around her from behind, holding her close to him.
Her body felt incredible. Scintillatingly searing in some places, achy in a good way in others.
It was so exhilarating to teeter on this precipice of near perfection knowing that all she, Rory, and Christian had to do was give in to the emotions and sensations that wavered amongst them, hovered over them, permeated throughout them, and they’d all achieve something great. Something substantial. Something lifelong.
It was what Bayli wanted more than anything else.
More than being famous.
More than convincing herself that becoming a household name was the only way for her to feel as though her mother’s sacrifices weren’t in vain.
Bayli had become a part of something much bigger than herself … and that was the highest of highs she could ever ride.
* * *
She slept soundly with the crashing of waves hitting the shore, despite the doors being closed, because it was too damn hot to open them after they’d learned that doing so automatically shut off the air-conditioning—and Bayli simply couldn’t have that. The surf surged and broke powerfully, and the house was so close to its edge that the undulation and spray lulled her into a deep sleep and kept her suspended there. So, too, did the incredible orgasms Christian and Rory had given her. And the intimate cocoon the three of them created under the light covers.
Around nine the next morning, Bayli woke to the scent of strong coffee and huevos rancheros. She sat up in the empty bed, spying the breakfast waiting for her on a table in the corner and hearing the shower running in the bathroom.
She knew Rory had several full days ahead of him, but he’d taken the time to cook for her. Christian was likely the one in the shower. He, too, had a packed schedule. Mostly conference calls and FaceTime sessions, but he was also following her around to all of her documentary shoots.
