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Damn!
There was nothing hotter than looking up over two thick fistfuls of men you’re already in love with. Looking past two hard, rippled stomachs and into the faces of two beautiful lovers… who also happened to be friends.
“Seems to me it’s probablyyourturn.”
Adrian’s words were followed by the extension of one great arm. He handed me a towel first, which I used to clean up. Then he reached down to pull me to my feet.
“Maybe you boys should take me to bed, then.”
A batch of pillows and blankets abruptly landed at my feet. Warren was dragging the coffee table between the couches out of the way, and Luke began spreading things out in a giant, comfortable-looking square.
“Even better,” he winked, “is when the bed comes toyou.”
Thirty-One
KAYLA
I lost count of how many times they took me, or how many times I came. I knew only that I passed out from pleasure, sometime after midnight. That I climaxed so hard I literally blacked out, something that had never,everhappened before.
What time is it?
I woke slowly, drowsily, to find myself spooned between Warren and Luke. Their bodies felt warm and wonderful, their arms strong and protective. The fire was nothing but embers now, glowing through the slats of the stove. The occasional crackle was the only sound I heard — that, and the drip-drip-hiss of a coffee maker, somewhere in the distance.
Adrian?
I looked, and my third lover wasn’t there. His jacket still hung by the door though, along with his motorcycle helmet. His boots were still there too.
Moving like a master thief trying to avoid a laser alarm system, I bent and contorted my body in an effort to get up without causing too much chaos. Somehow I managed to extract myself without waking anyone. In the end, it left Warren spooning Luke.
“Oh I’vegotto take a photo of this…” I murmured under my breath.
Quickly I found a T-shirt and slipped into my underwear. A quick snapshot with my phone later, and I was gleefully padding my way into the kitchen. There I found Adrian, leaning against the counter in nothing more than his boxers. He held a navy blue coffee mug in one big fist.
“What time is it?” I yawned.
“A little after four.”
God, he looked amazing. All those yummy tattoos, dancing along his body. I wanted to read them, to enjoy and decipher them as I traced them with my fingertips. So far though, the only time he’d had his shirt off was when he was on top or inside me.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
“Satisfied,” I smirked.
“I’ll bet.”
“How many times did we—”
“Three for me,” he shrugged casually. The machine beeped, so he turned and began pouring coffee. “Dunno about the others, though. I wasn’t keeping their counts.”
I took stock of myself, which was a little more complicated than I realized. For one, the insides of my thighs hurt. I could vaguely remember Warren clenching them with his hands, squeezing them with my legs pinned back as he screwed me to another incredible orgasm. My hair hurt from where I’d begged Luke to keep pulling it, and my wrists were sore from being pinned to the floor. More than once I could remember being held down and restrained… and I’d loved every minute of it. The sensation of total surrender — of being used and plundered as the boys’ personal plaything — made me breathlessly horny and sopping wet.
My backside though… well, that was a little less of a mystery.
“You screwed me in the ass, didn’t you?” I mused.
Adrian raised his coffee my way in salute. “You know I did.”
The memory came rushing back: me stretched out on my back, lying in Warren’s lap as Adrian slowly fucked me. Taking turns kissing the both of them, while Luke went into the kitchen for a round of ice waters.
