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“Fuck me,” Zander bit out. “God. You feel…” Up on his knees, he sank back onto Vince’s chest and Scotty lifted his upper half off the bed. “You both—” He struggled to speak, every word punctuated by a grunt, a moan, a shuddering sigh. “So deep.”
Watching him move through heavy-lidded eyes as his muscles burned, Scotty couldn’t hold out. Not anymore. “I can’t,” he gasped out. The slide of Vince’s dick against his, the clasp of Zander’s hole. It was too much. “I’m coming.” His toes curled, body straining.
“No,” Zander barked. “Hold that shit, baby. Let me—” He inhaled sharply. “Hold it for me.”
“I can’t.” Scotty sobbed. “Please, please.” His hips were moving, ramming up into Zander without his conscious thought. He just wanted the tight ball inside him to release, to explode. The pressure was too much.
“Shit,” Vince cursed. “Scotty, ah yes!”
“Wait for us, baby.” How Zander’s voice managed to be soothing at a time like that was a mystery. “You’re doing so good. You feel how good you’re fucking me? You feel Vince, too, don’t you? Pretty motherfucker. Do it. Fuck us, Scotty.’”
Scotty could only sob, could only beg. “Please.”
“Ugh,” Vince gritted out. “Shit, I?—”
“Harder,” Zander ordered. “Harder. Hit my spot.”
Scotty found himself obeying, pounding up into Zander from below while Vince did the same. The movements weren’t smooth or even coordinated, but they did what they had to—Scotty with his mouth open as he panted, his lungs burning, muscles spasming as fire licked his skin and sweat dripped into his eyes.
“Fuck! Fuck! Come for me. Fill me up. Now!”
Scotty let go, just like that, shouting until his throat burned, emptying himself inside Zander as his muscles clamped down. He felt it when Vince came as well and Zander’s cum spilled between them, dripping onto Scotty’s lower belly.
His muscles gave out as he collapsed back onto the bed, Zander crashing onto him, taking Vince too.
Scotty didn’t move. He couldn’t.
He just blinked unseeing up at the ceiling as his body hummed. Heartbeat thundering. Zander and Vince rolled off him. Scotty couldn’t even turn his head to look at them. He felt like a dried-up husk; Zander’s hole had sucked the life out of him.
But how soon could they do that again?
21
Zander came awake buried under a tangle of limbs.
Loud snores rumbled throughout the room and he grinned as he glanced around. He’d somehow ended up in the middle, sandwiched between Vince and Scotty. The other two were dead asleep, judging by the noises they were making. He shook his head with a soft smile.
His body was sore in places that hadn’t been touched in a long time, but he liked that. Liked the two men who clung to him as if they didn’t want to let him go. But the smile drained from his face when he remembered all the shit that waited for him. None of his responsibilities had disappeared just because he’d taken this reprieve. The weight of all of it pressed on his shoulders, and he wished for a moment that he had a life that made what happened inside this bedroom, in this bed, a possibility beyond those doors.
But it didn’t.
Not because he didn’t want it.
Fuck. He carefully extricated himself from the men—his men—and rolled off the bed, hauling on his clothes and then trudging into the bathroom to splash water on his face and gargle some mouthwash. He couldn’t meet his eyes in the mirror as he spit into the sink. There were so many things he needed to do and all he wanted was to return to the bedroom and climb back onto that bed.
He was the head of an organization now. He no longer had the luxury of thinking just of himself. He rubbed a hand over his head and then made his way back to the bedroom to find Vince sitting up and blinking at him.
“Hey.” He looked so good, all his golden skin on display, shoulders wide, and a light dusting of dark hair on his chest. His eyes were hooded, expression soft and open as he gazed at Zander. “You’re leaving?”
Zander nodded, helpless to fight the pull when his feet took him back to the bed. He bent, cupping Vince’s jaw, thumb stroking. “I have some shit to handle. I’m sorry I can’t stay longer.”
Vince leaned into his touch. “You’ll come back? I think we need to talk.”
There were a lot of things to be said, but Zander didn’t want to voice any of it. “I’ll try,” he conceded, pressing a kiss to Vince’s forehead. And the tip of his nose because he couldn’t help himself. And then his lips because they were right there, and soon they were in each other’s mouths, tongues tangled, breaths escalating. Goddamn it, he didn’t want to leave.
A pounding came on the door, rattling it, and he pulled away, taking Vince’s disappointed groan with him. “Take care of him.” He nodded at the still-sleeping Scotty.
Vince nodded, expression dazed. “Yeah.” He licked his lips. “Of course.”
