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Lords of Mercy (The Royals of Forsyth University #3)(94)

Author:Angel Lawson & Samantha Rue

I’m not a musician like Rath, but I know a symphony when I hear it.

This is new territory for the three of us. Sure, we’ve been blown by the same girl before, but never like this. Never with her being passed from one to the other. Never with me watching that dark, possessive glint flash in Rath’s eyes, or the flicker of something tender and satisfied in Tristian’s as he makes her choke on it. If I’m being honest, I wouldn’t think one girl would be enough for a trio of sick, horny bastards like us, but here she is. Fucking killing it.

She’s wrong about one thing. I’m not jealous. Maybe there was a time watching her so hungry for them might have rattled around in my chest, but it’s long ago settled into its place there, wound tight around whatever sad, corrupted organ could be called a heart.

Story nudges us all closer, until we’re shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, and our cocks are all in her face. She licks and sucks, running her tongue over each. I glide my hand up and down my shaft, keeping up the pace whenever her focus is on the others.

Finally, her mouth closes around me and I cradle her face in my hands, tipping her gaze to mine. “You ready for my cum, little sister?”

I don’t know if it’s my words, her anticipation, or the way I’m rubbing the pads of my thumbs against her cheeks, but she slows, staring up at me with eyes that are so open and full of longing that it makes my stomach clench. It’s what triggers the tightness building at the base of my spine.

She takes it just like that, opening wide, my cock jerking against her bottom lip. I make this shuddering gasp of a grunt that I might think to feel embarrassed about later. Right now, I come too hard to care, shooting right onto the pink of her swollen tongue.

She doesn’t swallow it.

The second I’m done wringing my orgasm from the tip of my dick, she’s turning to pull Tristian’s cock into her mouth. “Holy fuck,” he breathes, hips rearing back, only to plow back between her lips. “God, I love how fucking sloppy you get.” My cum is leaking from the corners of her mouth, and I know he’s close when he starts muttering broken, obscene things. “Such a perfect little slut for us. You’ll take it all, won’t you?”

Rath reaches down to touch her chin, running his fingertip through the trail of come, and then he prods it back into the corner of her mouth, slotting his finger right up against Tristian’s dick. Her lips stretch to accommodate it, and she hums like she’s grateful for the help.

If I hadn’t already come, I’d do it again just watching them keep my cum inside her. Lurching forward, hips frozen mid-beat, Tristian releases with a long, agonized-sounding groan. Tears burn at the corner of Story’s eyes, but she takes it. She takes all of him—everything he has to give—dick shooting into the back of her throat.

“Don’t swallow,” he directs her, panting. “Not until Rath finishes.”

She nods, jaw tense, and that’s when I swoop in, grabbing her from behind. I settle her between my legs, back against my stomach, to cradle her as Rath takes position. Slowly, he strokes up and down his cock, eyes tracking the path my hands make to her tits. I massage them in my palms, pluck at her nipples, and she tilts her head back, waiting.

Rath dips forward to run his cock over her lips. “Can you take it?” he asks.

She nods, unable to speak.

Like always, Rath takes his sweet time, jerking his cock slow and steady against the crease of her lips. Every now and then, Tristian or I will push our cum back into her mouth, or Rath will nudge it back inside with the swollen tip of his cock, and fuck.

My cock gives a feeble twitch at the sight of it.

When he finally starts tensing up, shoulder bobbing in short, quick jolts, he shoots out a hand to steady himself, landing on my thigh. He raggedly whispers, “It’s coming, baby. Open up for me,” and she does, back arching to catch the first thick rope that erupts from his dick. It dribbles over her lips, but Tristian and I are there to catch it, feeding it back to her.

Tristian waits until Rath backs off to rest his fingertips against her throat. “You can swallow now, sweetheart. Take your time. Get every last drop.”

She chokes it down, and when I put my sticky fingers to her lips, she sucks them clean, not wasting a single fucking drop. Part of me wonders if we—if I—trained her to like cum this much. But I know there are some things you just can’t force on people. She enjoys it too much to be anything other than genuine.

“Do you still like the way I taste the best?” I ask in her ear, dipping my fingers between her legs.

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