Page 16 of Sharing Hannah


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Hannah tried to nod, but I had her chin pinned skyward. Instead, she gurgled her assent. I started pounding myself into her, pressed tightly against her back, our bodies molded together as one. It felt astonishingly good. So incredibly warm. So dripping wet…

Her orgasm came as a complete surprise to me. One minute Hannah was fucking me back, the next she was screaming and coming, grunting through clenched teeth while her pussy contracted around my cock. She was saying something too, though I couldn’t hear what. It sounded vaguely like curse words — a long, dark string of them — all guttural and sneering and raw.

Her climax triggered mine, and at the very last second I realized I was past the point of no return. I moved quickly to pull out. To grab my shaft and milk it all over her, showering her with my come, watching with satisfaction as it dropped across her naked back in long, ropy strands.

But my new lover had other ideas.

With surprising speed her hand shot backwards, closing itself over one of my cheeks. Five pointed fingernails dug deep into the flesh of my ass, clenching me tightly, holding me against her — and more importantly, inside her — as the first wave of euphoria crashed over my brain.

“In me.”

She grunted the words back to me, clutching me hard. And then all of a sudden I was coming. Blasting off inside her, like it was the end of the world. Filling her silky channel with jet after jet of my hot, sticky come, while she bucked and thrashed and cried through an orgasm all her own.

It was a full minute before I came back to Earth. Sixty glorious seconds of pure, silky heaven. By the time she collapsed forward, still leaking my come, the others were already staring back at me. Trey looked on in disbelief. Adam a little more knowingly, with a tight sideways smile.

I’d just broken one of our cardinal rules.

Ten

BROOKE

I woke in a strange new bed, spooning a strange, warm body. For a few moments, my mind couldn’t focus. I couldn’t remember where I was, what I’d been doing…

Oh SHIT!

Memories came flooding back, drowning me in awe and wonder. Slowly I lifted my head. Took in the smooth, naked expanse of deeply-tanned skin sprawled beside me, and the rippled musculature beneath it. The man beside me was slumbering deeply. Taking slow, steady breaths, his broad back rising and falling…

Dante.

Carefully I extracted myself from the sheets and stood up. It was late… or rather, it was early. I could tell by the dim light filtering in through the big windows, that it would soon be dawn.

I walked through the shadows of the studio apartment, pulling on clothes. My phone was on the table where I’d left it. I punched up an Uber, found the bathroom, and proceeded to do my business.

Did last night really happen?

I searched my rapidly recovering memory. Every beautiful moment that floated back told me that yes, it certainly fucking had.

Holy SHIT, Brooke!

Holy shit didn’t even begin to describe it. A dozen conflicting emotions battled each other in my spinning head. I felt tired and spent, but also rejuvenated. A little slutty and dirty, but in a gut-churningly amazing way.

Minute by minute I replayed the events of last night in my mind. Every soulful kiss, every dripping second of being taken by them, over and over again. They’d tag-teamed me mercilessly, trading off so many times I lost count. Crushed me hotly between their hard, rippled bodies, penetrating me from every angle until I was a quivering, molten mess.

I’d come hard, three or four times, maybe even five. It was impossible to know. They kept waking up and taking me again, sometimes alone, sometimes together. Spreading my legs and plunging into me. Never asking. Always finishing inside me, thanks to my snap insistence in that first, heat of the moment climax.

I finished putting myself back together, thinking again about how I’d let them all come inside me. That part was foolish I knew. But after a half year of taking birth control without a single sexual partner, on some level I felt I was owed this one crazy night of total debauchery.

Besides, there was nothing to be done about it now.

I primped myself in the mirror, taking things at face value. Yes, I looked like a total wreck. Like some girl who’d been fucked six ways to Sunday by three different guys, and who was now trying to sneak out without a proper shower.

“Fuck it,” I said, blowing myself a kiss. “What’s done is done.”

Quietly I went back out, through the kitchen, stopping at the fridge. There was a dry-erase board there, presumably for shopping lists or whatever. On a whim I took the marker off its little Velcro pad and scrawled a message:

That was a fun night, boys!

Call me.

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