It’s the please for me. It’s so Gabe. It endears him to me even as I’m reaching back, enfolding him in my grip and pressing him to my center. Sliding him up and back until he falls back onto the pillow, his ample muscle flexed and stark.
When I finally take him inside me, four moans fill the room.
Relieved, jealous, tortured, anxious, horny.
Those sentiments are all buried there, converging on me from all sides.
“Christ, I’ve been beating my cock until it’s sore thinking of you and I still won’t be able to hold it in,” Gabe hisses through his teeth. “Just can’t believe I’ve actually got my cock inside you. You’re warm and wet for me, too. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
Gabe’s hips are already surging up between my spread thighs, entering me with hard thrusts and it’s utter euphoria. Apparently, I’ve never been properly prepared for sex in my life, because being filled has never, ever felt this mind-blowing. He’s big, but I’m so slick, it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. No. It’s the opposite. It’s like having my sense of taste returned after a decade without it. I’m burying my nails in his shoulders, dropping down on top of him and rocking my hips into his pumps, alternating between whimpering and sinking my teeth into his meaty shoulders.
He's expanding inside of me and we’re back to that place where he can’t take any more, like he was in the elevator. And there is a certain kind of gratification that comes with watching his eyes roll into the back of his head, his breathing pattern turns scattered, his fingers gripping my buns so tight, it would hurt if anything on this earth were capable of penetrating this lust. But nothing is. It’s the ultimate armor and a burden at the same time because I'm working, working, working my hips to get rid of it, Tobias's fingers growing tighter around mine, Banks’s mouth tracing up my spine and the lust starts to tear at me, the orgasm that approaches so wicked and wild that I’m almost terrified of it.
“My God,” Tobias says on an exhale, his hair in disarray. “I’ve seen it all, but I’ve never seen anything like you.”
Sitting up, I reach out with my free hand and grab the headboard, riding up to the thick tip of Gabe’s hardness and scooping my hips back down—snap—as I allow him to enter me again, his sex even stiffer than before, his expansive chest heaving. Glowing in the lamplight.
“Elise,” Gabe growls. “I can’t go much longer.”
“I know.”
I squeeze him inside the cradle of my body and he rifles me faster on his lap. Up and back, up and back. “I don’t want to stop, but…” he pants, looking at the other men in welcome disbelief. “Her pussy.”
Banks clips off an epithet and I hear his belt buckle coming undone and the clanking sound of metal curls my toes in anticipation of the unknown, makes me buck with more intention. There is so much pleasure to give, so much to receive. And I feel safe to explore it all. I feel their protectiveness, their wholehearted focus on my whims, my needs.
More than anything, though, I can feel Gabe straining, trying to hold back his finish—and I don’t want that. I want to watch him lose it, all because of me. I want him to feel the extreme of pleasure after the pain he’s experienced. I want him focused on me and his release and nothing else. Mine.
I fall forward, dragging my breasts side to side through his sweaty chest hair, levering myself up enough to lock our mouths together. But I don’t kiss him yet. No, I grind down and rotate my hips, covering his lips with mine.
“Fill it up for me,” I whisper, biting his bottom lip hard. “Now.”
On a strangled bellow, Gabe’s back arches up involuntarily and warmth spreads deep inside of my body. Yes. Still I grind and snap, our mouths panting together, my front row view of his straining throat muscles better than any sunset.
They’re so beautiful, I lick them collarbone to chin.
“Jesus Christ,” Banks bursts out, sounded winded.
“You’ve just seen a man get ruined in real time,” says Tobias, his tone reverent.
“Me next,” Banks breathes, matching Tobias’s tone.
Beneath me, Gabe’s hips surge upward, face contorted in pain, the last of his climax thundering through him, finally settling loose the primal roar I sensed he’d been holding in. Part of me has the deepest need to lay down on top of his powerful body and stroke my fingers down his cheek, comb them through his chest hair, praise him, but I’m still on the verge of my own release and I’m immediately refocused on that, because it has gone beyond urgent now.