Jake scrambled to do his bidding as I watched him drop down on the edge of the bed, then he grabbed my wrists as Mark tugged me closer, stretching me out between them. Jake hummed happily as he worked, and I got a close up and personal look at his cock as he did so.
“Don’t look,” he said when he caught me peering, sliding the loop of leather around my wrist. “I’m trying to behave here, and when you look at my dick like it’s your favourite ice cream…”
I gasped, unable to hear the rest of that sentence. Mark’s tongue flicked out and into me right as the leather closed hard around my wrists. His hands felt the same, clamping down on my thighs and holding me onto the bed.
It all got so fucking confusing after that, because they worked as one. Mark’s assault was direct and brutal, forcing my thighs wider so I could take more of him.
“Oh fuck…!”
My cry got smothered by Jake’s mouth, his lips frenzied as they claimed mine, sucking and nipping and drawing back before I could respond before plundering them again. His hand slid down my ribs, across my stomach, roaming, stroking, and my back arched as Mark shoved his tongue inside me.
“Can you feel that prickling beard in your cunt?” Jake asked me when he finally pulled away. I nodded when his hand slowed, then groaned as Mark suckled lightly on my clit.
“Are you dripping for him?” His fingers traced around the circle of my nipple, just slowly, softly, not how I needed it, until I answered. When I shook my head, my eyes closed for a second as Mark pushed his fingers into me, then proceeded to lick my clit in long, thorough strokes, Jake’s fingers closed over my aching bud.
“Do you feel this deep inside you when I pull?” He tugged gently on my nipple until I nodded furiously.
I felt all of it in me—Mark’s fingers and his persistent tongue, the pull of Jake’s fingers, the sweep of his hand, and finally, his lips on mine. But there was more than just the physical, something I thought we all knew walking in here. Mark had been all potential, the start of something shiny and new, the first person I’d found attractive who’d liked me back. Jake had been all this wild opportunity, jumping from oddly manic to heartrendingly vulnerable and back again. None of that was new. What was new was that this might become a permanent thing.
My eyes flicked open, meeting Jake’s, then darting down to where Mark laboured over my pleasure. I wanted to say something to mark this, this possibility, this dizzying concept, but all that came out of my mouth were groans. Jake slid down beside me, pressing that lean body against mine before looking up at me.
“We know…” he whispered. “Now come for us. Get all sweet and swollen and wet so that you’re still feeling the aftershocks when he pushes his cock into you.”
I didn’t have a choice to do otherwise, Jake’s mouth latching onto one nipple while his fingers tweaked the other, and it all became rhythmic, pulsing pleasure that tugged me on and on until it all came rushing to a head. I brought my bound hands down, my fingers tangled in Jake’s red hair and pulling it as the waves of pleasure rocked through me.
There was something a little heartbreaking about it, like I’d never feel this kind of endless pricking bliss again, the pulses of my cunt teased on and on by Mark, until I stopped coming and he was winding me tight again. He pulled away, something that drew a cry out of me, but I didn’t know what for.
I needn’t have worried, he was going nowhere. He looked down at the two of us with a flushed face and a lazy smile on his face, one I wanted to make sure I saw more often. He crawled up on the bed, covering us with his extensive shadow, undoing the belt, chuckling when my fingers raked over his ribs and back until I drew his mouth down on mine.
I was tasting myself on his lips when he brushed his cock against my sodden folds, the over sensitive skin jumping and craving the big blunt contact of him. I made my mind up when he started to work his way inside me. I wanted this, him, a lot.
“Fuck, you’re tight…” he gasped when he finally bottomed out, just hanging there, the calm before the storm. Jake’s hand snuck down between us, slowly toying with my clit, which had my eyes closing as I twitched around Mark’s hard length, his groans telling me how he felt about that.
“You’ve got to run with the beat inside you,” Jake told him. “You can’t deny it. You tried. It just beats all the harder. Show her what’s inside you.”
“What if I hurt her?”
He chuckled in answer. “You’re about to lie down with eight fae. If anyone’s at risk, it’s not us. I’ll make it good for her, won’t I, love?”
Mark surged forward as I nodded blindly, unable to watch, only feel. Mark stabbed into me, had been stabbing into me since that day we’d made our declarations, but now it was a knife in its sheath, rather than into my heart.
Jake was right—Mark couldn’t deny the beat inside him, his strokes growing longer, harder, deeper until I was crying out for more at each one. I felt invaded, thoroughly opened up, and something came with that.
My eyes were blurry when I opened them, but I saw it—the sweet devastation in Mark’s eyes, the tear in his heart. It was just fucking, just three people bumping uglies, but for some reason, it wasn’t. This time, the shake of his arms as he held himself back, the vicious twist of his features, told me a whole other story. This was more than physical sensation, all of it, and my eyes whipped over to meet Jake’s.
“You did this.”
His eyes beaded with tears as he watched us, but none fell, something I think Jake mastered a long time ago. “Maybe. I dunno. I just knew what the two of you would be like for some fucking reason, all stiff upper lip and shit. Analysing stuff like you are right now.” He tapped a finger on my forehead. “Give it up, Kira. Lay all those armaments down. Stop thinking and just fucking feel.”
Something pushed at me, his ragged, grated out words containing some sort of compulsion that had my eyes swinging back to Mark, watching him come apart in my arms.
Would it have hurt as much if I’d never transitioned, if we’d gotten together that night? Would I have felt this knife sharp slash in my chest, the ache for him made flesh? Would I have stroked his cheek as he moved, felt his frantic kiss on my palm as his thrusts became irregular and spasmodic?
“Come, Kira.”
I felt his order all the way through my body, my head falling back when I did just that, sensation rushing up, my body fluttering desperately and sending electrical pulses of pleasure out that Mark just powered through, which somehow just made it all the more intense.
I was about to call out his name, but my mouth was covered by Jake’s as he sucked it all down, the pleasure and the pain, feeding from my lips until finally, we all fell still.
Chapter 11
There is a painful sweetness to cuddles after sex. Mark pulled from me regretfully, flopping down on the bed and dragging me into his arms, Jake lying there and watching us. Mark had slain me, but somehow, the gentle little kisses on the back of my neck went deeper still. It was unhurried, affectionate…
Loving.
Well, that thought was enough to make me stiffen, something that made Jake shake his head with a rueful smile, but Mark didn’t stand for that. He rubbed his hand down the side of me, stroking me like a cat until my fur laid down flat again.