Page 33 of When We Live


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“Can I touch you?” I ask, looking down, my hair falling all around me.

“Not yet,” he says, smearing the moisture from my butt to my entrance.

He slides his fingers into me with great ease, and my center clenches around him, the tension only building.

“Tell me you don’t want me to share you with any of them,” he murmurs, his dick warm and thick against my skin.

I smile without any of them seeing me.

“I thought you made a deal to fuck me alone and have them watch. What kind of deal is this?”

“I’m throwing in for you, baby,” he says, stroking me rhythmically, sliding two fingers into me and moving them back and forth as if fucking me.

I get tense, and my back arches while my brain is in a complete fog.

Of course, he’s asking me this now, when it’s more difficult to say no to him because I’m warm and wet, and I could have any of them beside him.

“Let’s see how this works…” he says, his voice smokier and smokier.

He shifts his position, lines himself up with my opening, and lodges his crown inside me.

My body reacts, clenching around his stiff meat, while his hands go to my chest, cup my breasts, and squeeze me hard.

A moan falls from my lips when he rocks his hips and enters me fully.

I crash against the wall, his hands between my chest and the hard surface, his body lining mine, his erection filling me to the brim.

My insides mold on him, warm, swollen, and wet.

He moves, and the sound of him thrusting into me echoes in the room.

He dwarfs me, leaving me no opportunity to retreat while making me love it, and the moment I push back, he only spears me harder.

His buckle clinks every time he moves, scratching my lower back, his pants rubbing against my thighs.

I wish I could feel his skin against me. His chest against my back. I only smell his cologne, his lips trailing the side of my face, from my temple to my ear.

He touches my earlobe, and a shudder falls through me.

“You’re sensitive, aren’t you…?” he murmurs, breathing hotly into my ear, increasing that sensation, making me quiver. “So, tell me, baby,” he says, moving steadily and slowly as he has promised. “How do you feel about inviting them to fuck you with me…?”

The rational part of my brain is useless. But this is not about that. It’s about how I feel. And right now, I feel like I could do anything with him. And them.

He brushes my hair away and slides it all over one shoulder before kissing my neck.

These men… They sure know how to get what they want.

“You say yes,” he murmurs, a smile tinging his voice. “It’s going to be good,” he continues, already knowing the answer.

His hand moves around my neck while he straightens, clutches my waist, and rocks his hips.

Every thrust makes me jolt against the wall, his arm still protecting my chest.

He has one hand splayed over my chest while moving the other to my slit.

His fingers feel calloused against my clit as he moves them through my folds and strokes the little nub of pleasure.

I could easily come when he senses my tension and moves his touch away.

“First, you finish all of them, and then you come around my dick.”

With that, he slides out of my body, steps to my side, his hand on my breast, his fist on his cock, and someone else takes his place.

“Don’t look,” he says when I tilt my eyes to glimpse the man nearing me.

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