Page 120 of Racking Up Penalties
I close my eyes, letting the world narrow down to the sensations that overtake me—the taste, the touch, the sound of our collective breaths.
Ethan’s touch shifts as he slides his finger up to my back hole, running a finger over it.
I can’t help tensing.
“Shh baby girl, it’s okay. Want me to stop?” Ethan punctuates his question with a long lick through my pussy.
I pull my lips off Tristan. “No, I want you to keep going.”
Without waiting for a response, I take Tristan back into my mouth.
Ethan’s finger starts again, a slow probe that sends a shiver up my spine. His fingers are gentle and exploratory as they press against me, stretching and preparing with an intimacy that’s new yet not unwelcome. I’ve never felt more vulnerable or more cherished.
“Tessa,” Ethan’s voice is low, laced with desire and something like reverence, “do you want us both at the same time?”
A surge of excitement flushes through me. The idea is daunting but thrilling, a step into uncharted waters that promises a whirlwind of sensation.
“Yes,” I breathe out, my voice a mere whisper over the thundering of my heart.
“Okay, hold on tight to Tristan,” Ethan murmurs with encouragement, his breath warm against my skin.
We reposition with a fluidity borne of deep connection; I rise slightly, steadying myself with hands splayed across Tristan’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my palms. His blue eyes lock with mine, full of heat. With care, I slide down onto him, enveloping him completely, a gasp escaping my lips at the fullness, the profound pleasure of joining with Tristan in such a way.
Ethan disappears for a moment, and I’m hyper-aware of Tristan’s gaze, the heat between us, the electric air of anticipation. When Ethan returns, there’s a soft click followed by the cool sensation of lube against my heated skin, a stark contrast that makes me shudder.
“Relax, Tess,” Tristan coaxes, his voice a soothing balm, his hands moving to caress my hips, grounding me.
I nod, focusing on the rhythm of my breathing, the love and trust I have for these men who hold pieces of my heart. As Ethan prepares to join us, I lean into the vulnerability, the strength of our shared bond, the beautiful complexity of our intertwined lives.
I glance at Liam who looks comfortable in his position watching and I know I want this.
“Ready?” Ethan asks, his tone tender yet edged with his own need.
“Ready,” I affirm, my spirit soaring with the daring leap we’re about to take together.
Ethan’s hands, slick with lube, guide himself carefully, and I feel the gentle pressure against my entrance. My breath hitches as he pushes in, slow, ever so careful, stretching me further than I’ve been before. Tristan’s strong arms envelop me, his touch a reassuring presence as he whispers encouragement.
It’s the slow press of his dick in my ass, taking his time, that throws me over the edge. I come around them both with a loud moan.
“Fuck that is so damn sexy,” Liam groans.
“You’re strangling my dick!” Tristan sounds strained.
Ethan keeps going.
“Easy, Tess,” Ethan murmurs, pausing to allow me time to adjust. The stretch is intense, borderline overwhelming, but there’s no pain—only a deep, burning fullness that sends shivers racing through my veins.
“Okay?” Tristan checks, his voice laced with concern, his hips still beneath me.
“More than okay,” I breathe out.
With a collective breath, they begin to move in unison—Tristan lifting into me as Ethan retreats, then Ethan driving forward as Tristan withdraws. The rhythm they find is both steady and stirring, a dance of pushing and pulling that fills every inch of me, sparking sensations that cascade like a waterfall through my body.
“Feels… incredible,” I gasp, my voice shaking with the burgeoning tide of pleasure building within me. The world narrows down to their movements, the heat of their bodies against mine, the sound of our mingled breaths, the potent mix of tension and tenderness that binds us together.
Ethan’s strokes grow more confident, more assured, and Tristan meets each of his movements with equal fervor. Their eyes never leave me, seeking out my responses, adjusting their pace to my gasps and moans. A coil of anticipation tightens deep in my belly, winding tighter with each dual thrust until I’m teetering on the precipice, aching for release.
“Tris… Ethan…” I manage to whisper their names as an anchor, a plea, a declaration all in one.
