Page 114 of Stolen Harmony
David didn’t wait long. He lined up behind Rowan, pressing the head of his lubed cock to Rowan’s entrance. Rowan groaned, his whole body trembling as David pushed in—slow, deliberate, making sure Rowan felt every inch. David’s hands clamped down on Rowan’s hips, holding him steady ashe started to fuck him, each thrust pushing Rowan’s cock closer to my mouth.
I sucked him in, tongue swirling around the head, savoring the salt and heat. Rowan’s whole body shook, caught between David’s relentless rhythm and the greedy suction of my mouth. Tom kept feeding him cock, not rough but insistent, praising him with every low, hungry sound.
“That’s it, Rowan,” Tom said, voice softer now, awe threading through it. “Just like that. You make a man want to lose control.”
David grunted, driving deeper, sweat slicking his chest and arms. “Tightest thing I’ve ever felt. You keep squeezing me like that, I’ll make you see stars.”
Rowan whimpered, voice muffled around Tom’s cock, hips rolling between us, desperate for release. His hands tangled in Tom’s thighs, holding on for dear life as David pounded into him from behind, each thrust pushing him deeper into my mouth.
I hollowed my cheeks, sucking hard, swallowing every drop of precome, my hands squeezing Rowan’s ass, encouraging him to move, to lose himself in the mess of bodies and mouths and hands.
Tom leaned down, threading his fingers through Rowan’s hair, guiding his rhythm. “You’re fucking addictive, you know that? Could do this all night.”
Tom’s grip tightened, his breath rough and ragged. “That’s it—fuck, just like that,” he groaned, hips starting to jerk with a frantic, desperate rhythm. Rowan took him deep, throat working, spit shining on his lips and chin, the messy sounds of pleasure filling the air. I could feel Rowan’s whole body tense, every muscle straining for more—caught in the push and pull between all of us, every nerve ending raw.
Tom suddenly pulled out, fist tight around his cock,and with a guttural moan, he came—hot and thick, stripes of it painting Rowan’s face, streaking his lips, cheek, and jaw. The sight was obscene, gorgeous, Rowan’s skin shining with the mess Tom had given him. Tom rocked back onto his heels, still kneeling by Rowan’s head, spent and flushed, eyes dark with satisfaction as he watched Rowan blink up at him, lips parted, mouth smeared with come.
Rowan let out a needy, muffled whine, tongue darting out to catch a bead of release at the corner of his mouth. I watched as he used his fingers, slow and careful, to collect every drop—sucking them clean, licking his lips and his hand with greedy reverence. Tom caught his chin in one big palm, tilting his face up. “All of it,” Tom demanded, voice thick. Rowan licked his cheek, swallowing everything, then opened his mouth wide to show there was nothing left.
“Good fucking boy,” Tom rasped, voice cracking at the edges with awe.
Behind him, David was losing control. Sweat slicked their bodies, the slap of skin on skin echoing in the air, every movement raw with need. David’s jaw was clenched, eyes locked on the place where his cock disappeared into Rowan’s body.
With a shuddering gasp, David buried himself to the hilt, spilling inside Rowan with a hoarse, wordless moan. Rowan whimpered, the sensation making him shiver, his whole body tensing as David rode out his orgasm.
At the same time, I felt Rowan’s cock swell in my mouth—the taste of him sharper with every pulse. I tightened my grip on his ass, hollowed my cheeks, and took him deep, letting him use my mouth the way he needed. The sounds he made—desperate, pleading, lost—told me he was close, so close he could barely hold on.
“Come for me,” I urged, voice vibrating around him. “Give it to me. I want all of it.”
That was all it took. Rowan cried out, hips snapping forward, cock jerking as he spilled down my throat—hot and salty, thick and endless. I swallowed everything, refusing to let a single drop escape, my hands kneading his thighs, grounding him through the aftershocks.
He collapsed forward, body trembling, breath hot against my skin, every muscle gone loose and limp. David eased out of him, stroking his back, murmuring praise that was more touch than sound. Tom reached for a towel, gently wiping Rowan’s cheek and jaw, but Rowan caught his wrist and sucked the last traces from Tom’s fingers, eyes glazed with satisfaction and pride.
Tom flopped down beside us, catching his breath, while David curled around Rowan, his hand soothing over the curve of Rowan’s hip. For a moment, we lay there tangled and sticky, a mess of sated bodies and lingering heat. I watched Rowan’s lashes flutter, his mouth still swollen from kissing and sucking, his skin streaked with come and sweat and the marks of all the ways he’d been loved tonight.
“Jesus,” Tom murmured, running a hand through his hair. “If I had any strength left, I’d say let’s go again. But you wrung me out, Rowan.”
David chuckled, pressing a lazy kiss to Rowan’s shoulder. “Let the kid breathe. Or better yet—let Elias have his turn, yeah?” He grinned at me, conspiratorial. “Looks like he’s still hungry.”
I couldn’t help but smirk, voice dropping into something low and teasing. “Alright, you two—out. Shoo. I want him all to myself now. He needs a proper rinse, and I’m the only one qualified for the job.”
Tom laughed, rolling off the bed and making a big show of stretching his arms over his head. “Careful with him, Grant.”
David smirked, ruffling Rowan’s hair before slidingoff the mattress. “Just don’t break him. Or do, if he begs for it.” He shot Rowan a wink and started hunting for his clothes.
Rowan snorted, the sound weak but happy, his body boneless as I rubbed gentle circles into his back. Tom pulled on his jeans, tossed David his shirt, and with a last, satisfied grin, both men slipped out, closing the bedroom door behind them.
The hush that followed felt like an exhale—the tension and noise of the group falling away, replaced by something quieter and impossibly tender. I reached for Rowan, sliding my hands under his arms to pull him up into my lap. He melted against me, head tucked under my chin, breath still uneven.
I held him, tracing the new bruises and bite marks on his back, pressing a kiss to his hair.
“You good?” I whispered.
He nodded, dreamy and spent. “Yeah. Better than good.”
“Come on,” I said, pressing a kiss to his temple, “let’s get you cleaned up. Can’t have you walking around smelling like a brothel all night.”
He laughed, leaning into my side as I stood. I grabbed the bottle of lube from the nightstand, tucking it into my palm, then nudged him upright. Still naked, we padded quietly to the bathroom, every brush of skin electric in the softened light.
