It was probably a good thing that Rome was applying pressure the way he was, as my body bucked so forcefully that I could have given King a black eye, otherwise.
“There it is. Jesus Christ, Quin, I could watch you come all day and all night.”
I definitely couldn’t have survived that if we’d tried. I could barely keep it together as it was. My orgasm tore through my body like wildfire, leaving nothing but smoldering destruction in its wake. My head lolled to one side onto Rome’s shoulder, and my eyes started falling closed.
King gently lowered my feet to the floor, and stood up.
“Stay with us, we’re only just getting started.” He kissed each eyelid. “Open your eyes, I want to see everything you’re feeling.” He placed his palm lightly on my cheek, and guided my head off of Rome’s shoulder. The temptation to keep my eyes tightly shut was strong. I barely knew what emotions I was experiencing let alone letting him in, and exposing my vulnerability that way.
“There she is. I love you, baby.”
“I love you too.” It was the truth, but whether it was the whole truth, I didn’t know.
“I got you. Trust me? Trust us?”
I nodded. I did, but I didn’t trust myself to speak.
“Good. Turn around to face Rome again.” I hesitated, raising a questioning eyebrow at King. “Go with it. We got you.” His voice was reassuring, yet gently coaxing. I slowly did as I was told, and was met by Rome’s lips pressing firmly to mine again, all the while keeping his gaze locked with mine.
He pulled away, ending the kiss as abruptly as it had started. “Good girl. Bend over.” I didn’t move. “Please.” He grimaced, as he so often did when using niceties that the rest of us considered to be basic manners. I bent at the waist, and when I came face-to-face with his straining dick, I thought I had an idea of where his mind was going.
He gripped himself tight at the base with one hand, and with the other, slipped his fingers into my hair, and guided my mouth to him. His satisfied groan as my lips slipped around him sent shock waves around my body.
“Oh, fuck!” He thrust his hips out, and at the same time, curling his fingers tighter into my hair, pulled me harder toward him. I tightened my lips and sucked him harder. “Fuck me, I’m dead.”
“So fucking hot.” King brought his hand down onto my hip, and squeezed hard. I anticipated what was coming next, and spread my legs a little wider as his dick bobbed between them. When he pushed into me, I wasn’t sure I could take everything they both had to give, but the delicious ecstasy flooding my body as I took King to the hilt had me determined to try.
Chapter 13
Rome
As King brought his other hand to Quincy’s butt and slammed hard into her, I kept still, let him dictate the rhythm, and fell into line with him, pulling back when he pushed forward, and vice-versa. I kept one hand locked in Quincy’s hair, while the other somehow ended up holding hers, with our fingers interlinked. She placed her other hand at my hip, and used both to steady herself as she rocked back and forth between the two of us.
Shit. Just as I thought things with Quincy couldn’t get any hotter, they always fucking did. I looked up to find King staring at me. His expression was stony. Normally we were pretty in tune with what the other was thinking—even if we didn’t like it—but not then. For once, I couldn’t read him at all. I raised my eyebrows. King gave me a tight, barely visible smile, and an equally subtle nod.
We carried on that way, never breaking eye contact as we rode our way to ecstasy. The whole thing was hotter than hell, but also a total head fuck. I had no idea what was going on between us. Any of us, but the one thing I did know was that it felt so good, I was in danger of losing my mind.
While my brain tried to focus on the dynamic, and what the hell it all meant, and making some kind of sense of the situation, my body was one hundred percent all about the unrivaled pleasure. I was glad I had the wall behind me for support, or else there was a real possibility that I would have ended up on my knees if not.
The way Quin was sucking me off was... unreal. I wanted it to go on forever, but at the same time as I was on the verge of climax from the moment her full, shapely lips touched my dick. When I felt myself getting too close to coming, I’d move the hand from her head to the base of my dick, and squeeze hard, until I came back from the brink, then I’d slip it back into her hair.
I never broke eye contact with King, but didn’t miss the way he would shift his hand to his dick, also, no doubt to stave himself off, the same way I was. We continued that way, until I saw the switch flick in his eyes that let me know he was close. He picked up the pace, and I followed his lead, moving in sync with him and chasing my own release.
The moment we came—all three of us—was beyond epic. I finally slammed my eyes shut, and let myself freefall down the rabbit hole of my orgasm, and I swore to God, I died a little. Our mingled cries of agony and ecstasy rang through the hall, ricocheting off the stark walls and high ceiling, and somehow, the world tilted on its axis as a result.
“Hey” Quincy stepped out onto the balcony, sliding the door closed behind her.
“Hey yourself.”
“What are you doing out here? It’s cold and late.” She pulled my shirt tight around her, as though to emphasize her point. It was weird, even to my mind, how I couldn’t think of anything sexier than Quin barefoot and buck naked, except for my shirt. It barely skimmed her butt, and held so much promise beneath its folds, I almost couldn’t cope.
“I couldn’t sleep.” It was the truth.
After we’d come in the hall, Quincy had practically passed out in my arms, so I’d carried her into the bedroom, and laid her down on the bed. As I’d started to straighten up, she’d urged me down with her, then motioned to King to do the same. Not needing to be told twice, I’d snaked behind her, with my arms around her waist so that we were spooning. King had lowered himself so that he was face-to-face with her, sandwiching her legs with his, and placing his hand on her cheek. She returned the gesture.
As they stared into each other’s eyes that way, having an unspoken, but deeply felt “conversation,” I’d felt like the third wheel in another man’s bed. Which, of course, I was, except that we were all in my bed.
While the two of them had drifted off to sleep, I’d lain awake, staring at the ceiling, my mind awash with thoughts about what the fuck was going on. That was just one of the things I was hating about being sober—it was wrecking my ability to sleep.
Not that I’d ever really had a sleep pattern or routine previously, but the beauty of being drunk was that I could pass out and be down for hours with no issues. Now it seemed to be almost impossible to fall asleep in the first place, and when I did, it was light, fitful, and broken, and I’d wake up feeling unsatisfied—sometimes worse than I’d felt before closing my eyes.
After that got old, I’d lain there for hours, like a creeper, just watching them sleep. I’d noted the rise and fall of their chests as they breathed deeply, and in time with each other; and I’d marveled at how, even in sleep, they were totally in tune with each other’s bodies. I also couldn’t get over just how fucking beautiful they were together. They were perfection.