Page 64 of The Rebound Plan

I shudder as he wraps my fingers around his cock like it’s the most casual thing in the world, just forcing me to give him a handjob.

He’s long and thick, overflowing my fingers, and when he thrusts through my grip, precum wets my hand.

I can’t see him, I can only feel him, but my brain goes fuzzy, then refocuses, like an old-fashioned TV changing channels. I can visualize the length of him spearing into my body, demanding space.

Leaving streaks of precum everywhere he thrusts.

No condom. Nothing between us. Messy and raw.

“That’s it,” he breathes against my ear. “Squeeze me tighter.”

Once I have the hang of what he’s demanding, he wraps his arms around me, holding me up. His fingers find my clit again, and his lips brush my ear. “I want to feel you come.”

I shake my head. That’s not going to happen. It rarely does, but it’s okay, because I just like sex. Being fucked is usually enough for me, and if I want a release, I can take care of that myself later.

Beneath me, Max is grunting, thrusting faster. His hands grab my hips and slam me down, pulling me tight against his balls. I feel the start of his release into the condom, and then he’s shoving me off and his hand is on his cock, peeling off the protection and stroking himself up onto his belly.

Russ catches me, his arms looping around my middle, and he presses his face in my neck as he moves me to the other side of the sun bed. I lose my grip on his cock, and I scrabble for it, trying to get him again, needing to finish him, make him feel good.

“It’s your turn, my queen,” he whispers against my spine, and in the shocked stillness that follows, he drags his mouth down the length of my back before he turns me over and lifts my legs over his shoulders.

I should stop him.

He shouldn’t?—

But then he’s kneeling between my legs and his mouth is on my pussy, his tongue thick and sure, and I’m not going to stop him. I can’t. I feel raw, nothing but nerve ends and swollen, aching flesh, and how does he know exactly where to lick to make it all feel better and hotter and so very, veryright?

I murmur his name, sounding panicked, soundingdesperate.

He reaches up my left side, the side of my body away from Max, and he grabs my hand, interlocking our fingers.

I squeeze down on his grip as he pushes my thighs further apart, as he licks deeper into me, filling me with his tongue and his breath and all the secret desire Max so casually revealed with his sharp words and dangerous offer.

His big arm shifts against the back of my thigh where he’s holding me wide open, until his elbow is braced there instead and then his fingers join the overwhelming sensations at my pussy.

Oh, myLord.

He plays with my clit like…

Like…

I whimper, crying out.

“That good? Like that?” His breath puffs against the wetness that tells him it’s good, yes, very good.

I squeeze his other hand.

He squeezes back.

This is so wrong.

Maybe that’s why it’s hot.

Maybe I’m a terrible person, but I’m a terrible person who’s about to come, and that makes it hard to remember to be Good.

He brings our tangled fingers to my belly, stroking me there for a minute before leaving my hand there.

When his body starts rocking, I realize with a jolt that he let go of me to stroke himself, resuming where I left off when he moved me onto my back.

---