Page 121 of Racking Up Penalties
“Let go, Tess,” Tristan encourages, his blue eyes dark with desire, his grip on my hips both gentle and possessive.
Ethan leans in close, his breath hot against my ear. “Come for us, baby girl. We’ve got you.”
Their words are the final stroke, the last key turning in a lock, and suddenly I’m shattering, waves of ecstasy crashing over me, leaving me breathless and quaking. They continue to move through it all.
Heat courses through my veins, a relentless tide that refuses to ebb. Tristan and Ethan move with intensity. My breath hitches, catching on the edge of a whimper, and my eyes flutter open to meet Liam’s stormy gaze.
He’s there, just beyond the tangle of limbs and sweaty skin, his hand moving over himself in a slow, deliberate motion that mirrors the rhythm set by Ethan and Tristan. The sight of him, so controlled yet so visibly affected by our connection, sends a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through me.
“Look at you, Tess,” Liam murmurs, his voice husky and filled with unspoken promises. His gray eyes are locked onto mine, and I can’t look away, caught in the raw intensity of his stare. It’s as if he’s right here with us, sharing in every moment.
I’m spiraling again, another orgasm tearing through me, and it feels like I’m falling, flying, fracturing all at once. A silent scream escapes me as I cling to Tristan, my body convulsing between them.
“Fuck, Tessa…” Ethan groans behind me, his movements becoming erratic and desperate. He’s close, I can feel it in the tension of his body, in the way his fingers dig into my hips. And then he’s there, releasing inside me with a low, guttural sound that vibrates against my flesh.
Tristan follows suit, his own cry mingling with Ethan’s as he finds his release, filling me completely. Their combined warmth spreads inside me.
“You’re incredible,” Tristan pants, his breath hot against my neck. He’s still inside me, his heartbeat a steady counterpoint to my racing pulse.
Ethan collapses against my back, his chest heaving. “That was,” he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, “everything to me.”
We’re a tangled mess of limbs and satisfied sighs, and I’ve never felt more alive, more loved. And through it all, Liam watches us and his presence adds another layer to the intricate tapestry of our relationship. His smile is tender, proud, and it fills me with warmth.
Tristan’s chest rises and falls against my chest, his laughter a low rumble that sends a shiver through me. “I’ve come a long way, haven’t I?” His voice is a mix of wonder and amazement, a boyish charm peeking through the sated man. “From fumbling around, nervous as hell—”
“You were never fumbling around,” I say, laughing.
The blue of his eyes sparkles with something like pride, and it makes my heart swell.
“Best teacher ever,” he quips back, and we share a smile.
I push myself up, feeling the slight stickiness between us, a reminder of the intensity that’s just passed. The room seems to pause, the air charged as I step away from Tristan and Ethan, my gaze finding Liam’s. He sits, still as a statue, his eyes dark with want, the tension in his jaw telling me he’s ready to unravel.
“Come here, baby,” Liam’s voice is a hushed command, one I’m eager to obey.
I cross the room, each step deliberate, aware of the way his eyes track every movement. There’s a hunger there, a silent plea that speaks to the depth of what we are together. When I reach him, he reaches out, his fingers brushing mine before he grips my waist, pulling me close.
“Ready for more?” he asks, the hint of a challenge in his gray eyes.
“Always,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.
He guides me down, my body sinking onto him, welcoming him inside with a sigh that feels like relief, like coming home. Liam’s hands roam across my skin, tracing paths of fire that sear away at me.
“Fuck, Tessa,” he breathes out, and I feel the vibration of his words against my chest, a tangible expression of the connection that binds us.
Liam sets a relentless pace, each thrust sending shivers of pleasure radiating through me. My fingers clutch at the fabric of the couch, trying to ground myself from the intensity of what I’m feeling. The rest of the room fades into obscurity; there’s only Liam and the exquisite pressure building inside me.
“Look at me, baby,” he murmurs, and my eyes snap up to meet his stormy gaze. There’s something raw and open there, a vulnerability that matches the pounding of my heart. It’s in this moment, with our gazes locked, that the wave crests, crashing over me in an overwhelming surge. A cry escapes my lips, a sound that’s half Liam’s name, half a prayer of thanks for this connection that feels as vital as breathing.
I’ve never come so many times in my life.
“Mine,” he whispers against my lips, his movements becoming erratic. And then he’s there with me, his release filling me as we cling to each other, riding out the aftershocks of our passion.
As our breaths slow there’s a silent acknowledgment of the depth of what just happened. With a gentle touch, Liam brushes a strand of hair from my face, his smile soft.
“Upstairs,” he suggests, and it’s not a question but an invitation.
We untangle ourselves, limbs languid and sated, and make our way upstairs. Ethan and Tristan are already there, moving mattresses with a casual ease that belies the intimacy of their actions. They’re creating a space for all of us, a place where we can all cuddle together and sleep tonight.
