Page 89 of Hollow

“Here,” he says, guiding me to it. “I want to watch you take him first.”

I sink onto the couch, my jeans halfway down my thighs, my top pushed up. Exposed. Vulnerable. Neither of them seems to mind. Damiano kneels between my legs, pulling my jeans completely off while Flint sits beside me, his hand replacing Damiano’s between my legs.

“Christ, you’re wet,” Flint murmurs, fingers sliding easily into me. “You want us both tonight?”

“Yes,” I gasp, spreading my legs wider. “God, yes.”

The air changes, thickens with focused intent.They exchange another look then Flint is standing, unfastening his pants while Damiano does the same. There’s no awkwardness between them, just fluid coordination like two parts of the same machine.

Damiano positions himself on the couch, and Flint guides me to straddle him. I hover above him, feeling the blunt pressure of his cock against my entrance. One of Flint’s hands steadies me while the other wraps around Damiano’s length, positioning him perfectly.

“Take him,” Flint says, his breath hot against my ear. “I want to watch you fall apart on his cock.”

I sink down, taking Damiano to the hilt in one smooth motion. We both groan at the sensation, his hands gripping my hips to hold me in place for a moment. “So tight,” he hisses, head falling back. “So fucking perfect.”

I start to move, lifting and lowering myself on his cock, feeling every inch of him drag against my walls. Flint moves behind me, his hands on my shoulders, my waist, my ass. I feel the press of his cock against my back, hot and hard.

“You want more?” he asks, even though he must know the answer.

“Yes,” I say, not stopping my movements on Damiano. “Everything. Both of you.”

Flint slides his hand down my back, fingers slick with something—lube, probably kept in these rooms for exactly this purpose. Or maybe that there are now three of us… he knows what’s to come.

He circles my asshole, the pressure insistent but careful. I relax into it, grateful for the distraction as his finger breaches me.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, working a second finger in alongside the first, stretching me carefully. “Just like that.”

I continue riding Damiano, who watches me with half-lidded eyes, guiding my hips with his hands into a rhythm that hits perfectly with each stroke. When Flint lines himself up behind me, Damiano stills my movements, holding me flush against him.

“Ready?” Flint asks, his cock pressing against me.

“Yes,” I breathe, and then he’s pushing forward, the pressure intense as he enters me slowly, inch by careful inch.

The sensation is overwhelming—both of them inside me, filling me completely, stretching me to my limits. For a moment, none of us moves, simply adjusting to being connected so intimately.

This is different than the lighthouse. This lacks pain… in fact it’s so fucking good. It feels so fucking right.

Then Flint rocks forward slightly, and I gasp as pleasure shoots through me. That small movement triggers Damiano to move as well, and soon they find a rhythm, one pushing in as the other pulls back, never leaving me empty.

The pressure builds quickly, almost too intense. I’m pinned between them, completely at their mercy,and I love it. I let my head fall back against Flint’s shoulder as Damiano’s mouth finds my breast, sucking hard enough to mark.

“That’s it,” Flint says, his pace increasing. “Take us both. Show us how much you need this.”

The bass from the club pulses through the walls, matching the rhythm of our bodies. I’m close, so close, trembling on the edge. Damiano reaches between us, circling his thumb over my clit with each thrust.

“Come for us,” he says, eyes locked on mine. “I want to feel you squeeze around us both.”

That pushes me over. I shatter, my body clenching around them as pleasure crashes through me in waves. They follow quickly, Flint with a curse, Damiano with my name on his lips, both of them holding me tightly as they empty themselves inside me.

For a long moment, we stay joined, sweaty and panting, the reality of what we’ve done slowly seeping back in. The club beyond these walls. The body buried in the maze.

But right now, in this moment, none of that matters. Only the three of us, tangled together, finding something like peace in the eye of the storm.

“I need to get back to work,” Flint says.

And there’s that reality smacking us in the face again.

“Take her home,” he adds to Damiano. “The night’s only going to get crazier with every hour. The Hunt starts tonight.”

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