Page 124 of Crushing Clover

“Look at that—she’s into it now.” Saint’s disembodied voice came to me from behind Rush somewhere. He was probably filming where we were joined together. Would they really watch the video later? I imagined them doing just that—stroking themselves, or maybe each other. Or using my mouth?

My body sang like a crystal glass when someone ran a damp finger around the rim—quivering, high pitched, like I might shatter into sharp, lethal shards.

Rush tugged on my mouth, and I sucked his fingers. He swore, picking up the pace, thrusting into me hard. I was so full—it had been terrifying at first, but now it felt different. The thought of their cocks sliding together inside me was impossibly sexy. My clit was smashed against Lucky, and his gasps of pleasure made me whimper.

“Fuck,” Lucky said, his voice a sexy rasp. “Fuck, she’s going to come.”

I tried to shake my head, despite Rush’s fingers still being in my mouth. I was lying. My orgasm trembled, paused impatiently at the edge. Trapped between their thrusting bodies, bare skin against bare skin, delicious pressure on my clit—it was an impossible, torturous combination.

“That’s right, babygirl. Take what you want.”

I parted my lips and squeezed my eyes shut as I tipped over the edge. Clenched around the two of them, my pussy’s grip was unforgiving. When the first spasm gave way to the next, and then the next, it felt like a fucking exorcism. Sounds came out of me that I’d never made before, deep and greedy. The pain and indignity of being so full, so used, so at their mercy—my body took all of it and twisted it into a lurid, nasty ecstasy. Lucky broke first, following my orgasm like a dog chasing a truck, determined not to get left behind. Rush tried to hold out,but soon, he froze, swearing, his rhythm completely lost as he emptied into me, adding to their hot mess.

We all slowed. Stopped.

Inside me was a buzz that left me brainless and drifting. As I lay, sweating between two sweaty, muscled men, dripping cum, Saint crouched next to us, demanding my attention. The phone was still in his hand, but I wasn’t sure whether it was still recording.

He peeled one of my curls from my sweaty face and tucked it back. “Wow—you’re such a fucking mess.” His lips curled in a derisive smile. “And you still look miserable. Don’t you like being our little fuck puppet?”

I couldn’t get my brain to work. Instead, I caught hold of his derision and internalized it. Panic and self-loathing tried to proliferate inside me.

Had I liked it? What kind of person would like this?

Was I going to be nothing but a set of holes for the rest of my life?

The ugliness inside me spread, staining everything it touched.

“Take it easy on her,” Rush admonished. “We put her through a lot, and she took it all for us. She’s a good girl.” He stroked my face with a careful tenderness that made my eyes tear.

Saint arched a brow. He stood and turned away, gathering things for us to clean up with. We’d all needed showers before the sex had started, and now this entire space felt like a biohazard.

Lucky kissed my cheek and temple, helplessly trapped under both me and Rush. “You okay, gorgeous?”

I nodded, blinking back fresh tears. It felt like the core of my body was shaking and that I might come apart as soon as Rush took away the heavy shield of his body.

Unfortunately, I was right, but Rush and Lucky were there to pick up the pieces.

Chapter 25

Days later, I woke to the sound of birds making the most of the morning, which was already in full swing. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and baking bread made me slightly less resentful of the daylight.

I stretched, still luxuriating at the feel of waking up in an actual bed. It would be a long time before I took something so simple for granted again.

Lucky was curled around me, and Saint had accidentally woken me when he’d gotten out of bed earlier. The shower was running, which meant he was probably in there. It took a few minutes to disentangle myself from Lucky’s tentacle-like hold, but I eventually managed to slide out of bed and head to the bathroom, tucking my errant right breast back into my tank top and readjusting my underwear.

I let myself into the bathroom to pee, covertly watching Saint soap himself. It was better than any cable program I’d ever watched.

“You better not flush that toilet again, or I’m coming out there to make you regret it, bootlicker.”

I held up my hands in supplication. “It was an accident, I swear.”

He arched a skeptical brow at me, as though still convinced I was lying about the day before.

Smart, because I was.

“Besides, you can’t hold me responsible for things Lucky dares me to do.”

“I can absolutely hold you responsible for things Lucky dares you to do. You know better. If it happens again, I’m going to make you very sorry.”

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