Sixty-Six

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I was wrong about Michael.

He's not entirely sweet, nor entirely kind. His movements are fluid and meant to bring me pleasure, but he also has needs of his own. And these needs, he's unafraid to expect.

When he took me from Chris and sucked my pussy with his mouth again, I expected the same patience with his cock, but didn't receive it. The kindness from earlier was gone. He was seeking retribution for my stunt earlier—for running away from him.

I can't describe the fullness of him or the hard grip of his fingers sinking into my skin, but I can remember the demanding insistence of his fingers and mouth. He kissed me twice, slipping his tongue into my mouth and exploring it before moving to focus on my breasts. The scrape of his teeth on my nipples left me stuttering.

My hips met his with force, rolling hard to take every inch of him as deep as I could. Chris and Charle's weight sank into the mattress on either side of my head, but Michael's scorching gaze held mine prisoner. When my legs wrap around his hips, urging him closer, his speed picks up, and he pounds me into the bed.

It shudders in the face of his strength, slamming so hard the noise echoes through the entire house. I hang in his embrace, consumed with him. Hands climb along my skin.

Chris's right hand falls to my belly, driving lower to massage my clit. Charlie focuses on my other nipple, tongue swirling the pebbled tip to soothe the bit of his teeth. Lips settle on my collarbone, kissing upward to my neck and chin.

"You're sucking me in..."

Michael's whispers come from behind clenched teeth. Sweat forms along his temple and shoulders, climbing along the muscles on his chest and arms. I trace them with my fingers, pressing into the carvings with reverence.

He's so handsome.

"I'm going to come from you—in you," a curse leaves his mouth and he drops his head forward, sealing his lips to mine. His hips keep their driving rhythm, ramming into me roughly. "Every day. You'll come for me every day. Don't run from me again."

His command cuts through the fog in my brain, and I relent, saddened.

"Never," I vow. "I'll never run again."

I couldn't. With Chris and Charlie onboard with the threesome becoming a foursome, what reason would I have to leave them behind? I wanted them with me always, even though it was selfish.

"No, you won't."

Stubbornly, he stares me down. A possessive glint rears its head in his gaze. I'm in so much fucking trouble.

Chris' hand directs my right one to his cock and I wrap my hands around his hard length, pumping it from root to tip like he taught me. A groan leaves his mouth and his hips push forward, angling to fuck my clutched palm. It's not long before Charlie follows his example, keeping his hand closed around mine to show me how he likes it.

I long to taste them the way they've tasted me. Experience the deep thrusts Michael ravages me with down my throat. And afterward, when their controls slips and the saltiness of their come turns to a musky liquid I'll drink.

We're all connected. The link pulses to life, opening so far I can taste their arousal on my tongue. Happily, I nearly drown in it.

My back bows as my body goes weightless. An orgasm tears through me, setting my limbs on fire. I shutter, humping Michael frantically.

His hands grip my hips, pinning them to the bed. He fucks me harder. With my hips immobilized and my hands occupied, I can do nothing but take all he gives.

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