Logically, I already know that. But I welcome hearing it out loud. “I know. I’ve just never been with…” I’m breathless. “I can barely tolerate one man, let alone three.”
I’ve never been the recipient of a more heated look. “If you want this, tell me. I’ll guide us.” He wets his sensual bottom lip. “Free of charge.”
Am I crazy to nod in the face of such arrogance? To say, “Yes”？
Maybe. But I do it anyway. I don’t want to break free of their hold. Not yet.
A little more.
“Good girl. Now kiss him,” Tobias rasps, framing my jaw in his hand and turning me toward Banks. “Kiss him while my hand is up your fucking skirt.”
I’ve never experienced this painfully wonderful kind of clench before, the one that makes my panties feel like they’ve melted onto my body like hot wax. I’m wet. I’m wet and trembling and my lust is directed full circle, three times as potent because there are more places for it to go. To land and flourish.
Banks crowds in closer, his lips drawing back from his teeth like he’s in pain, brow furrowed. A hot breath later, his mouth moves over mine and we moan into a kiss. A bolt turns in the dead center of my stomach, wild colors and patterns splattering on the insides of my eyelids. I’ve never kissed or been kissed back with so much urgency.
“Gabe would like to get his dirty hands on your tits, Elise,” Tobias murmurs with his forehead nuzzling my temple, his grip still around my throat, somehow keeping me anchored, instead of alarming me whatsoever. Maybe because I believe them when they reassure me that we can stop at any time. “Do you allow that, love?”
Oh my God. Being asked for permission in such explicit terms makes me want to wrap my other leg around Tobias’s waist, but I’m too weakened by the kiss to do anything but nod my consent. I’m boneless between three hard bodies. They’re holding me up. Tobias by the throat, Gabe supporting most of my weight from behind, Banks keeping me in utter thrall with his mouth—a mouth I gasp into when Gabe flattens my breasts with his hands, his middle fingers stroking roughly around my hard nipples—and I’m shaking almost violently now.
“What about you?” Gabe rumbles into my hair, pinching my nipples between his knuckles, increasing the pressure until I’m panting, breaking the kiss with Banks. Staring back into his glittering eyes in wonder. From both of us. “What are you going to do to her?” Gabe asks again, his lap making contact with my bottom, lifting me onto my toes.
“Me?” Tobias winds the sides of my skirt in his hands, dragging the material up my thighs, landing my now-bare bottom in Gabe’s lap. “I’ll tend to the pussy, of course.”
He starts to kneel—
The lights turn on in the tram car—and it jolts into movement.
A voice crackles over the loudspeaker, the words as impossible to discern as before, but the jarring feedback is enough to send me screeching back into reality. I’m sandwiched in between three men I just met. I’m kissing one of them, another is fondling my breasts and I have no idea what the third man is about to do, but I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him do it before on the screen of my phone while turning up the speed setting on my vibrator.
We are going to be on the other side of this ride in like, under a minute and I’m flushed, shaken, breathing like I just surfaced after a dive to the bottom of the ocean. In a way, I have. I’m so aroused, I’m almost disoriented while stumbling free of the three-way tug-of-war they’re playing with my senses, gulping down air while attempting to straighten my clothing.
“What was that?” I ask to no one specific. Or maybe I’m asking myself. “I don’t know what that was,” I clarify haltingly. “But I don’t just…I don’t do things like this.”
I cringe over the clichéd statement. It feels like something women are supposed to say to hide the fact that they enjoy sex, when we should be allowed to own it. I do own it on occasion. But this—three men I know so little about—commandeering my entire being like this has unnerved me. I’m an impulsive person when it comes to changing professions and trying new things. However, I am the opposite when it comes to personal relationships. My constant job hopping is the perfect guarantee that I don’t have time or energy for friendships or romantic entanglements. And this four-person affair, which I’m not entirely sure isn’t a shared psychosis, is nothing if not a giant tangle. As such, I’m desperate to break free of this shared bubble and get some fresh air. Get some space to think and breathe.