Page 111 of Stolen Harmony
“More,” I promised.
He dove back down, faster this time, head bobbing, hands bracing on my thighs. I fucked his mouth with slow, deep thrusts, watching his eyes roll back, his body shivering with the effort and the thrill. Tom and David watched, both hard, both stroking themselves as they took in the show.
“Goddamn, Elias,” Tom said, voice low, “he’s fucking insatiable.”
I let my head fall back, every nerve ending on fire, letting Rowan use me, take me, worship me. My cock was thick in his mouth, stretching him wide, and he never flinched—he wanted it, needed it, loved every second.
He barely came up for air, cheeks flushed and lips swollen, spit slicking his chin as he worshipped my cock with desperate, greedy strokes. My own self-control was fraying, every muscle in my body strung tight as wire. I threaded my fingers into his hair, letting the silky strands slip between my knuckles, and pulled him up—slow but unyielding, dragging him off my cock with a soft, wet pop.
“Enough,” I breathed, voice half-ruined, my chest heaving. “Get up here. Clothes off, now. Let me see you.”
Rowan’s eyes flashed, half-drunk on praise and lust, but he obeyed instantly. He climbed into my lap, straddling me, his weight a welcome pressure that grounded me in the chaos. My hands found his waist, tracing the lines of his body through thethin fabric of his t-shirt, feeling the frantic beat of his heart beneath my palms.
“Lift your arms,” I said, softer now, but no less commanding.
He did as told, baring himself to me. I tugged his shirt over his head, exposing pale, freckled skin flushed with heat, a thin sheen of sweat painting his chest. I took a second to admire the sight—Rowan trembling, already half-undone, desperate to be touched. My hands slid down, mapping the rise of his ribs, the shallow dip of his belly, the sharp lines of his hips.
“Good boy,” I murmured, kissing the hollow of his throat. “Now the rest. Stand up.”
He climbed out of my lap, shivering as the air hit his bare skin, and I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of his jeans. I didn’t bother with patience—I yanked them down, letting the heavy denim drop to the floor, baring long, strong legs dusted with hair, muscles flexing as he shifted his weight. Only his underwear remained, a thin, black pair already soaked at the front, stretched tight over his cock and balls.
Tom whistled, his gaze devouring every inch. “Fuck, look at him,” he muttered, hunger and awe threaded through every word.
“Turn around,” I said, my voice gone low and dangerous.
Rowan hesitated just a beat then spun on his heel, showing off for the room. I caught Tom’s eye and nodded, giving him permission. Tom moved in, hands broad and rough as he gripped Rowan’s hips, steadying him.
“Let’s see what you’re hiding, pretty boy,” Tom teased, voice gone thick.
Tom hooked his thumbs in Rowan’s briefs and tugged them down, baring him inch by inch—ass flushed, cock straining, completely exposed.
“Jesus, you’re fucking perfect,” David echoed, coming upbehind, his hands settling on Rowan’s waist. Both men knelt, one on each side, faces close as they admired him, their breath warm against bare skin.
I moved in, not touching—just watching, hungry. “On the bed,” I ordered. “Hands and knees.”
Rowan scrambled onto the bed, hands and knees, ass high, cock dripping. He looked over his shoulder, all need and trust.
Tom and David wasted no time. Tom gripped one cheek, spreading Rowan wide, while David settled behind him, running a soothing hand down his spine. They took their time, mouths lingering over every inch, kissing, licking, worshipping. Tom started at the crease of Rowan’s thigh, mouthing at the soft skin, nipping at the sensitive spot just beneath his ass. David focused higher, licking a long stripe up the center, teasing the tight ring of muscle with the flat of his tongue.
Rowan shivered, hands fisting in the sheets, hips rocking back for more. “Please,” he gasped, voice muffled in the bedding. “Please, Daddy, more—need it, need your mouths, please?—”
They obliged, diving in with filthy enthusiasm. Tom spread Rowan open, tongue tracing slow, deliberate circles around his hole, pausing to suck and kiss, spit slick and obscene. David joined him, licking in tandem, the two of them taking turns—sometimes working together, sometimes competing to see who could make Rowan squirm harder.
I watched, transfixed, my own cock aching with every desperate sound Rowan made. But I wasn’t content to just look. I moved to the head of the bed, kneeling in front of Rowan, my cock bobbing just inches from his face.
He looked up at me, eyes blown wide, mouth open in invitation. I tangled a hand in his hair, guiding him closer, and he took me into his mouth without hesitation, lips stretching around my length, tongue swirling as he sucked me deep.
The sensation was dizzying—Rowan’s mouth on my cock, Tom and David’s mouths on his ass, the wet, filthy noises filling the room, the scent of sweat and sex heavy in the air.
Tom glanced up, voice rough with approval. “Look at you, baby. Taking all of us. Such a good fucking boy.”
David groaned, tongue working deep, fingers digging into Rowan’s hips to hold him steady. “He tastes so fucking sweet,” he muttered, “could eat him for hours.”
Rowan whined around my cock, hips jerking, the pleasure overwhelming. He was a mess, spit and precome slicking his thighs, his body shivering with every lick, every touch. I held his head, thrusting slow and steady, giving him just enough to handle.
“Good boy,” I praised, voice thick. “You love this, don’t you? Love being used, love having all our mouths on you, making you our mess.”
He nodded, desperate, moaning around my cock as Tom and David redoubled their efforts—tongues probing, lips sucking, teeth grazing just enough to make him gasp.
