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His kiss is deep and penetrating, almost dark in its abiding self-confidence, and a contrast to the way Luke normally kisses, a contrast to his soft and generous lips. He kisses me like this is a sin, that he’s the sinner, a filthy meeting of teeth and tongue.
I love it.
His cock floods with steel-like strength. I swallow down my thirst as I slide the condom Rory gave me over Luke, my fingers looking and feeling too small for the size of him. Before long, as though compelled to by lust and a force greater than it, I’m lowering myself on top of that length, my clit and folds rocking teasingly along Luke’s aching crown.
He steers me downward, cutting off the tease, and his large palms are more like a push than a guide. My lips part as his thick hardness enters me, and already I’m panting, my heart fluttering high in my chest at the overwhelming sensation of him. Luke’s normally warm brown eyes have blackened substantially.
I have beenbadtonight.
Luke’s roughness doesn’t stop the ache at my core, the reason why I grind into him for release.
“I have the forest inside me,” Luke tells me, his voice a dropped, dark insinuation. “It’s still there. It never left.” I watch his face closely, remembering. Remembering his howls of lust-driven pain, his chokehold grasp against my neck. How badly both of us wanted to submit, to screw the ritual and fuck each other senseless instead. He’d been an animal then, a creature of Samhain, and I’d loved it.
I rock against his hips, planting my lips fiercely against his. His tongue snakes inside me as my cunt fills with the weight of him, a breaching both vicious and delicious. His palms paw at my breasts harder than Rory, and fire sweeps low because this is Luke, this is Luke, he never sets out to cause pain. But I will him, clinging his hands to my breasts, keeping them in place as they squeeze and squash and flatten, his roughness in turn filling my cunt with wetness.
“Luke,” I breathe, tilting my face to the sky, and again there’s that mysterious scattered shimmer above the treetops, silver against the uniform darkness. I screw my eyes shut, because now is not the time. Lochkelvin mysteries can fuck off for tonight, as I undulate my body onto Luke’s stiff, hard rod, squeezing my thighs together to feel the tight, hard grinding energy between us.
A body slants behind me, and I know just from the tousled flop of hair on my shoulder that it’s Finlay. I glance down to see two sets of hands competing to claim my breasts, Finlay a pale-white vision against Luke, his skin clear of his inked tattoos. It’s been weeks, if not months, since a tattoo last appeared on his skin.
He’s happy, I realize. He’s happy, doing this, being with us. He has no need for affectations when we’re the ones who satisfy him.
“She’s mine,” Luke growls, fighting away Finlay’s possessive hands.
Finlay makes a short scoffing sound behind me. “If ye huvnae noticed yet, weshare.” He plants a kiss to the back of my neck, breathing me in. “God, sassenach, I’ve missed this.” His length bobs assuredly against the base of my spine. All of me feels drenched in wetness and heat, slick and hot all over, like I’ve been filled with liquid fire.
“I wish tae fuck I had a hunner hands,” Finlay mutters as his right hand descends to my curls. He toys with them leisurely, tugging enough to eke a strained gasp from me. Coupled with Luke’s long, deep thrusts, my cunt is a red-hot zone of pleasurable pain, a tightness and rawness that only two guys would be able to deliver.
A searching finger claims my clit, circling the bead in a quickening rhythm. My core tightens needily as my breath contracts, and I drag Finlay’s body closer to me, craving more of the music that sings down my veins.
“Every time you squeeze,” Luke breathes, his voice on edge, “I feel it. As if it were happening to me.” He leans back on his forearms as though to give way to me and the power building within. I’m on top, I realize dazedly. I truly am riding him, the way Rory wanted. Luke’s giving me all the power. With Finlay based between his legs, it’s as though Luke has cast aside all the darkness that had been thrumming through his system. He lets Finlay take me, one hand on my breasts, another at my cunt, the same way Rory had handled me. Luke sprawls himself on the ground, admiring, every so often his hips pistoning upward and into me, hitting something fragile that makes colors swirl in the heady darkness.
“Is there any room?” a voice on my left asks, and Danny’s head appears in my vision, his chin resting on my shoulder. He presses a slow butterfly kiss to my neck, making me shiver, making me tense upon Luke’s cock and forcing him to tremble beneath me. How united we are now… like a machine built of components — everything I feel, Luke feels, and vice versa. When Danny’s fingers trail down my side, a ticklish turn-on, I squirm hard enough onto Luke’s towering cock that he gives an urgent, “Danny,no.”
It’s a simple instruction, but Danny’s hand drops as though burned, and his cock leaps into the air like it’s been charmed.
Danny touches my breasts instead. Finlay bats his hand away. “Fuck off, she’s mine.”
Danny’s eyes narrow. “So where am I meant to go?”
Behind me, I feel Finlay shrug. “Dinnae gie a fuck,” he growls, pressing tight enough against my back that his cock slides up between my cheeks.
“Will you two play nice?” I manage in a gentle sing-song as Danny glares at Finlay. “Kiss me,” I whisper, tilting my head to the side, and Danny eagerly does. His lips are a gentle, sweet caress — and I’m lost in the welcoming warmth of innocence when Danny freezes against my mouth.
I pull back and meet owl-wide eyes.
Rory is stroking Danny’s spine.
Inch by inch, knot by knot, Rory’s fingers trail lazily down the column of Danny’s spine as if in morbid curiosity, his head cocked to the side. On his knees, he surges forward, placing both hands on Danny’s shoulders, before softly commanding into his ear, “Move.”
Swallowing, Danny obeys, shifting toward Luke, and we watch as Rory, his eyes an impish gray, sidles across to me.
“Wasn’t very nice of you.”
“It was nice enough for D-boy,” Rory dismisses, his eyes pinning me in place. Finlay’s cock has stilled and Luke’s hips have stopped pulsing upward, because that’s the effect of Rory on anything. That quiet, powerful presence. His eyes drop from my damp lips to my squeezed breasts, abundantly claimed by Finlay, who pinches my protruding nipples in warning. His eyes sweep admiringly down the curve of my belly, to my curls and where Finlay’s other hand teases my clit. He observes where Luke’s large cock enters me like a scepter. “Now, little saint,” Rory says, his eyes resting on the physical focal point of tonight, “I have a sudden desire to kiss you.”
I lean forward, expecting to meet his mouth. Instead, with a half-cocked smirk, Rory lowers himself onto his belly, his head with its soft caramel-colored hair resting along Luke’s abs, and I watch in awe as Rory angles his mouth across to Finlay’s curling digits. His tongue licks a hot stripe at Finlay’s knuckles, and Finlay freezes in the same way as Danny. This time I feel Finlay’s hardness strain insistently against my back and hear his frustrated exhale against my shoulder.
