Page 46 of Seven Lost Summers
“Watch her,” he says, voice steady, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to both of us. “Don’t miss it.”
His fingers move faster, tight circles over her clit, slick sounds filling the room as her moans climb higher.
She cries out, thighs shaking.
I catch the tremor rippling through her, and then she breaks.
A scream tears out of her, and her pussy clamps down so hard I swear I see stars.
She shudders, hips jerking, the orgasm ripping through her in brutal waves. Her legs give out, her body collapsing forward, held up only by Nate’s arm around her waist and my cock still buried deep inside her.
She doesn’t stop shaking. Her nails dig into my skin as her whole body gives out.
“Fuck,” I whisper, too stunned to move. “She’s unreal.”
She’s still moaning, breath ragged, clinging to us like she can’t tell where one of us ends and the other begins.
And I can’t stop staring—fucked out and trembling, she’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
Bianca lies boneless against me, breath stuttering at my throat, skin slick with sweat, body still shaking. She’s wrecked from coming, but she keeps moving with us—grinding, dragging me deeper like she doesn’t know how to stop.
And I can’t stop either.
My hands shake against her hips. Every time Nate thrusts into her from behind, he drives her forward, slamming me deeper.
“Shit,” I choke out, my voice breaking. “I can’t—fuck, I’m gonna—”
I break.
My head snaps back, one hand clutching her waist, the other clawing into the sheets. And I fucking come.
It slams through me hard. My whole body locking as I spill inside her, thick and hot, my cock pulsing with every surge. A sound tears out of my chest, guttural and helpless. She whimpers when she feels it, face still buried in my neck, taking every drop.
My thighs quake, my stomach caves, and my vision goes white.
Behind her, Nate groans.
“That’s it,” he pants. “Fuck, Theo. You feel that?”
I can’t even speak. I just nod, breathless, still half-lost in it.
But Nate’s still going.
His grip clamps harder on her hips, his other hand sliding down her back to press her lower, opening her wider for him. He drives into her rougher now, sharper, his groans coming faster. He’s chasing it—his own high. I can hear it in every breath, every thrust, the way he fucks into her like he needs to drown in it.
I turn my head just enough to catch her face—her mouth falling open, eyes fluttering shut as she moans with every thrust. Every sound she makes sinks under my skin.
Behind her, Nate tenses, his breath hitching.
He groans her name. “Fuck—Bianca—shit—”
His hips stutter, rhythm faltering for half a second before he slams back into her, hard and deep. The bed shudders with it. His grip on her waist tightens, holding her steady as he buries himself again. Then he stills, head dropping forward—
And I see it.
He’s coming.
His whole body locks up—chest heaving, muscles straining. His jaw clenches so tight the veins in his neck stand out, and he groans again, louder this time, broken and breathless. The sound lodges in my chest.
