Page 34 of Crushing Clover

Lord, please don’t tell me they sleep with the light on?

It slowly dawned on me that the murmuring I was hearing wasn’t a conversation at all. Were they making out on the bed? With me right here? With the lights on?

They were going to fuck each other and ignore me? I mean, that was hot, but it was also somewhat insulting.

Not that I would complain about having less work to do.

Things were getting hot on the bed, from the quiet sounds of male pleasure. I wanted to peek, but wasn’t sure if it would piss off Saint John. I glanced at the mirror that hung on the outside of the walk-in closet door and realized I could see almost everything. The chaotic tangle of limbs made it hard to decipher what belonged to which man.

Maybe it didn’t matter.

Lucky seemed to be the center of things, with the other two touching him, working him up. Rush spat in his hand and slid it between Lucky’s ass cheeks. Lucky groaned and his dick spasmed, already fully hard. Surprisingly, Saint John was kissing Lucky’s mouth, both of them hungry.

They were mostly silent, other than the occasional grunt or moan. I felt like a creepy voyeur, but there was no looking away as Rush worked his way into Lucky’s ass. Lucky gasped and mouthed a trail down to Saint John’s already throbbing cock. He swallowed him down and Saint John threw his head back, his big hand tangled in Lucky’s hair as Rush began to thrust, the hollows of his perfect ass flexing. Lucky was gasping around Saint John’s cock and pushing back to meet Rush. There was no hesitancy—they were accustomed to sharing. Their hands ran over Lucky’s bare skin, tracing his tattoos, exploring the ridges of his muscular torso.

They took what they wanted from him, but he gave it so willingly. His cock strained, ignored by the men using him and his low, needy sounds were so fucking sexy I squirmed where I lay, pressing my thighs together, wishing I dared reach down and do exactly what I had been forbidden to do.

My pussy fluttered in a spontaneous, low-key orgasm, leaving me even more frustrated. The hand that was tied twitched, knowing it could do a better job of getting me off than squirming around ever would.

Saint John was the first to lose control, groaning as Lucky sucked his soul out of his body. His hips slowed then stopped, and as Lucky gasped for air, a drop of cum escaped the corner of his mouth. He sucked his way off of Saint John and licked at the corner of his mouth. Rush wasn’t far behind, arching over Lucky’s back, pressing his forehead between his shoulders and giving a long, blissful shudder. His expression of ecstasy sent another wave of heat through my body, painfully tightening my nipples.

After a show like that, Saint John honestly expected me not to give myself any relief?

The man was a fucking monster.

They moved off into the bathroom, and I lay there frustrated, wondering if I could manage to get myself off once the lights were out. Could I keep my breathing even enough? Should I try now, while they were busy in the bathroom?

Saint John came back too soon, and I casually slid my hand away from my pussy, worse off than I’d been before trying to take the edge off. I lay there, trying not to think about what I’d watched in the mirror, but every time I closed my eyes it was all I could see—all I could hear.

They were joking around and laughing together as Rush turned out the light. The mattress compressed with their combined weight. No wonder the bed was so fucking big.

I lay in the dark, still listening as their breathing evened out. My free hand slipped down between my thighs again. Even if I could figure out how to stay quiet, it wasn’t the hand I was used to. I had a hard time getting myself off even at the best of times, so trying to do it quietly with the wrong hand seemed like a losing proposition.

How was I going to sleep? I tried to settle down and resigned myself to being uncomfortable. I’d gone without orgasms often enough with Noah, but I’d also never been quite so desperate for one. Sex with him had been exciting when we were younger and eventually became a nice way to reconnect after a long day, but it had never been seriously hot to the point where I felt like my body might combust.

Between my arousal and the hard floor, I found myself shifting.

The guys hadn’t gotten Lucky off, either. Had they let him do it later, in the bathroom? Maybe that asshole controlled his orgasms, too. Whatever. It was their dynamic to sort out and none of my business.

Uncomfortable, I stared at the dark ceiling, waiting for morning.

Intense pleasure woke me. Something was teasing at my clit, and it felt fucking amazing. I gasped and bucked, but strong hands held me down—held me still.

What was I lying on? It was hard as fuck. The first reaction I had was fear, both because I didn’t know where I was or who was between my legs, but their tongue was fucking heavenly, and the finger that worked into my pussy was both self-assured and distressingly cold. He groaned against my overheated clit. It took a minute for all the pennies to drop—where I was, who it might be. It was impossible to know if it was Rushton or Lucky, but at that point I didn’t much care.

The mouth left where I needed it to be, and he crawled up my body. Instinct told me to keep my legs together, but he wasn’t having it. He wedged his knee between my thighs and settled between them, his weight pinning me.

“Don’t you dare fucking come.” The growl in my ear was indistinct—male, heated. He pushed his cock into me with slow, controlled thrusts that made me whine. The blanket I lay on slid on the floor, and he grumbled a curse, tugging it out from underneath me before plunging back in.

Fuck, he felt so good.

It had to be Lucky fucking me with such ruthless desperation. The other two had gotten off too recently for them to be so needy, right? I loved the feel of him on top of me, his pubic bone rubbing at my overly sensitive clit. I squirmed beneath him—chasing my orgasm despite the warning. Would he even be able to tell if I came?

The floor dug into my back, unforgiving, punishing me with every thrust. I gasped too loudly, and he covered my mouth with his hand, accidentally blocking my nose at the same time. I arched beneath him, trying to breathe, sucking in a lungful of air whenever his hand shifted and I could manage it.

His thrusts got harder, faster. The tension inside me grew, and the shortage of oxygen made my head swim. My orgasm teetered, almost there, but his thrusts became punishing, hurting me. He shuddered over top of me and lay there for a minute, his chest heaving as I squirmed and whimpered in pain and frustration. He pulled out and gave my nipple a cruel pinch, and my pussy responded with an appreciative flutter that almost felt like an orgasm but was nowhere near as satisfying.

He got up and climbed back onto the bed as I caught my breath and tried not to cry out of sheer desperation. There was some shuffling around as the other two adjusted in their sleep and then everything went silent.

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