Page 169 of Scrum Heat

Nobody argues as Finn tugs his shorts down with one smooth motion, cock hard and flushed, leaking at the tip.

“You’ve been so good for us,” he murmurs, climbing up the table so that he can kiss me. “Now let me be good for you.”

He lines himself up and presses in slowly, inch by devastating inch, until he’s fully seated inside me. I gasp, my body arching as I clutch at his shoulders.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re… you’reperfect, Frankie.”

He starts to move—gentle at first, hips rocking in slow, controlled thrusts. His cock drags against every swollen, sensitive inch inside me. Rory is already back at my mouth, thick and heavy and pulsing against my tongue, and he lets out a low, strangled sound when I suck deeper, hand braced behind my head to keep the angle just right.

“You’re taking both of us,” Finn pants, looking down at the scene like it’s holy. “You're taking all of us. Fuck, baby. This—this iseverything.”

He fucks me harder, his hips snapping against mine in a way that makes me moan around Rory’s cock. Each stroke hits something unbearable inside me—hot and slick and just this side of perfect. The table creaks, and my thighs tremble.

Rory groans. “You’re doing so well,” he murmurs. “So fucking good for us.”

Finn’s thrusts get messier and rougher as one of his hands slips between us, his fingers finding my clit again with practiced ease, circling in time with each deep roll of his cock. Between the suck of my mouth around Rory and the slap of Finn’s hips against mine, it’s all raw heat and wild noise.

“I can feel how wet you are,” Finn gasps. “You’re dripping, Frankie. All over me—fuck, I’ll never forget this.”

Rory pulls back just enough to let me breathe, hand stroking my hair as my moans break free. I’m drowning in sensation—every nerve lit up, every alpha scent and voice and touch burning into me like a claim.

“Can I—?” Finn chokes, breath ragged. “Can I come inside?”

“God—yes.Please. Finn.”

He thrusts once. Twice—

And then he’s gone.

“Fuckfuckfuck—Frankie—”

His hips stutter, muscles locking as he spills inside me, thick and hot, buried so deep I can feel it everywhere. His head drops to my shoulder, breath coming in broken pants as he lowers himself onto his elbows. His lips brush over my jaw, my temple, my mouth.

“You’re unreal,” he whispers. “You’reours.”

My body is still trembling when Jax steps forward. He slides his hands around my waist and gently but firmly guides me over onto my side, and then onto my stomach. I feel the table beneathmy chest, the surface cool against my overheated skin, and I shiver as I shift into place.

I let him arrange me how he wants me—knees slightly spread, hips lifted just enough, but chest flat to the table.

Owned.Offered.

Rory moves with us. He strokes my cheek, leans down, and kisses my temple; then he steps back in front of me, the tip of his cock brushing my lips again.

“Open for me,” he murmurs. “One more time, sweetheart.”

I do; and behind me, Jax groans.

“Fuck, Frankie.”

His hands settle on the curve of my ass, his huge palms spreading me wide. He takes his time, dragging his thumbs along the crease, down toward my thighs, then back up again. He kneads once, reverent and possessive, then leans forward to kiss the small of my back like it’s sacred.

“You’ve got the prettiest fucking ass,” he growls, low and wrecked. “Been thinking about bending you over like this since day one.”

And then he presses in.

The stretch isobscene. It burns in the best way, and my mouth opens wider around Rory’s cock as Jax fills me completely, hips slamming flush to my backside with a groan that shakes through his entire chest.

“You’re soaked,” he grits out. “Messy and dripping for me.”

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