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Rory gives me a look as if to say he won’t be repeating himself. He walks the line between forthright commander and callous bastard with skill, and sometimes the two are entwined enough to thrill me.
Slowly, I level my palms onto the grain of the wooden desk, knees following behind me. I free the egg from my protective clutch, letting it roll itself along the wood with its endless buzz. The desk suddenly seems too cramped to carry the length of me, but I comply with Rory’s words, balancing myself on its thick surface, naked but for my skirt. My arms are quivering from the cold, gooseflesh springing across my biceps. I blow out a steadying breath, amazed not to see silver plumes. Danny’s directly in my field of vision, but instead of meeting my eyes, he’s captivated instead by my full naked breasts. I glance down at myself, instantly flushing, when I realize how obscene I look: all of me is on display, my breasts becoming more so as my taut budding nipples swell in the chill.
Rory steps closer, a sound that spikes me with anticipation. He’s seen me naked plenty of times before, but this time I feel particularly on edge and needy. His hand strokes my bare back, painting me with a liberal streak of warmth. He slowly travels over each notch of my spine as if soothing an erratic cat. Beneath my skirt, I’m molten against the cool air of the classroom. I imagine the toy stuffed and powerful inside me. With Rory’s skin a possessive sweep against mine, I’m scarcely able to breathe. All I do is watch Danny watching me.
“D-boy,” Rory murmurs, and although Danny perks at the sound of his name, it takes an effort to remove his gaze from my swollen breasts. “I think — and I am aware this is exceptionally kind of me — you deserve something good. Come over here.”
Obeying, Danny walks in a daze to where Rory stands. Rory’s hand continues to work its way down my spine and back again, a gentle stroke that keeps me grounded to the desk. But then Rory’s hand leaves me, and I cock my head, inspecting the two of them standing side by side. Rory’s hand is wrapped around Danny’s wrist, and I watch in fascination as Rory leads Danny’s hand without the slightest hint of ceremony underneath my skirt.
My head droops to the desk the instant Danny’s warm digits touch my heated entrance. I can’t see Danny, but I know his gentleness, his sweet caution as he traces my lower lips. It’s a frustrating shadow of the full-force pounding I crave.
“Eyes forward,” Rory instructs, and it takes every nerve in my body to lift my chin and make it so.
Already, sounds of moisture fill the air, as the pad of Danny’s finger experimentally skims my cunt, thumb dropping to my hole, deftly dipping inside and then out.
I surge backward, trying to take all of him for myself, greedy and wet. Rory makes a soft tsking noise and, placing a cautionary palm along my spine, slowly repositions me so that it’s Danny’s hand that must delve deeper into me. The pads of Danny’s fingers brush something glorious and dangerous inside me. My heart quickens and my breath thickens and thins.
“Quit wriggling,” Rory growls, hand sloping up the ridges of my spine until he cups the back of my neck. It’s as steady and secure as a collar, and it forces me to stare at the desk where the toy leaps around gaily, a reminder that although my world has suddenly shrunk to the exploratory crook of Danny’s fingers and Rory’s grounding palm, this isn’t just about me and Danny and Rory; I picture Finlay and Luke here, too. Far away as they might be, we’re still united by the same common goal: to make me come.
Rory’s thumb massages the side of my straining neck. “So tense,” he murmurs. “I can feel you shaking.”
This is funny, because yes, while quivers wrack my muscles, my hands and knees are pained and raw from leaning on them too long, and with Rory’s stabilizing palm it’s as if my whole skeleton has fused to the desk, my plinth, to become statue-still. The skin of my palms is damp with sweat, the prickling correlating with Danny’s gentle penetration.
“I know somewhere a little softer,” Rory continues, and his hand slides from the back of my neck down my shoulder and tricep, to claim my soft, supple mounds. The twin sensation of Rory’s massaging palm and Danny’s probing fingers creates an exquisite burn. My nipples form into triumphant summits, which Rory grasps, a gleeful god seizing a mountain. He lavishes my curves with the attention of an expert, knowing and appreciating every intimate part of me. When it comes to exploring my body, Rory carries within himself the confidence of a professor rather than a student.
Danny, however, still plays under Rory’s supervision, his fingers extending carefully toward the end of my inner chamber, where everything feels as tender and untouched as newly fallen snow.
“Whatever you’re doing, it’s making her gasp,” Rory acknowledges in an approving tone, and I immediately focus on the sounds, the glissando moans, I hadn’t realized had been streaming through my parted lips. “You feel how wet she is, how she’s burning up around you?”
“Yes,” Danny whispers, sounding stunned as his fingers trace the most secluded, inner parts of me. “Gods, yes.”
“Keep doing it and she’ll come.” Rory’s hand toys thoughtfully at my breast. He may as well be discussing the mechanics of a car, and I hate that he knows it turns me on. “But do I want her to?” Rory muses aloud, giving my nipple a gentle twist. “And do I wantyouto be the one to do it when two others are politely awaiting their turn?” Mockery weaves through his voice: there’s nothing polite about the frequent buzzing emitting from the toy. “D-boy,” Rory says gently, as if about to break bad news, and I sense Danny’s fingers surge forward as if desperate not to be removed from my secret warmth, “you’ve had a good run, but—”
“No. I’m not leaving.”
My eyes snap open. Danny doesn’t do this. He doesn’t fight back or wrestle with the beast. He obeys each of Rory’s commands like a good, faithful soldier.
“Only if Jessa doesn’t want me to,” Danny adds quickly, and while this sounds like him, his new low, gruff tone lights me up from inside. “Otherwise I’m staying. I’ll take her right to the edge and then, only then—”
“She’s already at the edge.”
“I didn’t mean this one.”
I swallow.
“Jessa?” Rory murmurs, and again there’s that dagger of heat whenever Rory uses my name as opposed to a nickname. I gaze up at his gray eyes. They’re sparkling and perplexed with how the situation has unfolded, a strange half-smile as if Danny’s backbone is an amusing novelty worth the extended visit inside me.
My brain melted before I even crawled onto the desk, so I don’t know what great words of wisdom Rory expects of me. Instead, I nod, jerky yet slow, as the world and its strange particles shimmer in front of me.
“You’re in luck,” Rory murmurs to Danny as if he doesn’t quite agree with my stance. “D-boy’s going to make you nice and wide and wet for your two other eager suitors. Note to self,” he adds dryly, his attention flicking back to Danny, “even nice boys become greedy pricks when it comes to my fiancée’s cunt.”
My face flushes scarlet, naked with a dizzying, lust-filled shame. But inside me, I feel the contented spread of Danny’s fingers, as if Rory’s words had been an accurate observation indeed, his hand taking up residence against the furthest edges of me he can claim. With Danny inside me, building my heat from within, my cunt is a molten, swollen, raw ache. Sweat pricks across my skin, slicking up my palms, my breastbone, along my hairline, and into my eyes. I wipe the latter away with the crook of my elbow, for which Rory punishes me, pinning my nipples with the blade of his fingernail until I hiss.
“Good,” Rory murmurs, fingers trailing across the sweat along my breastbone. “I like to hear you cry.”
It’s such an asshole thing to say, but it’s the right combination of words to unlock a flash of heat across my belly, and for a single second, the world hovers with such silent stillness that I think it’s about to crash. I suck in air through my teeth, forgetting how to breathe. There isn’t a thought left in my mind, just feelings, auspicious and grand, threatening to consume me entirely, as I permit myself to succumb to the rush waiting to engulf me.
“What’s she doing?” Rory tosses over me to Danny.
