Page 150 of Rescuing Ally: Part 1
Beneath me, Gabe remains perfectly still, musclestrembling with the effort of restraint, his jaw clenched as he waits for permission to move. His fingers dig into my hips, steadying me even as his eyes burn with barely contained need, silently pleading with Hank for release from this exquisite torture.
The dual penetration creates a feedback loop of sensation, each subtle shift magnifying the other, pressure building in places I never knew could feel such pleasure. Every nerve ending fires simultaneously, sending contradictory signals of too much and not enough.
The combination is devastating, a potent cocktail of pleasure beyond my experience that steals my breath and scrambles my thoughts until nothing exists beyond the points where they possess me.
“Doing okay?” Hank checks, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining control, though I can barely process his words, let alone form a coherent response.
“Mmm-hmm.” My eyes roll back, lids fluttering as my toes curl with the unfamiliar ecstasy building in my core.
My world narrows to sensation alone—fullness, pressure, the delicious friction of their bodies against mine, inside mine.
“Now, Gabe,” Hank’s command cuts through the haze of pleasure, the two syllables heavy with dark promise. His hand slides up my spine to grip the nape of my neck, claiming control of my entire body. “Fuck our girl. Show her she was made for us.”
Gabe matches Hank’s rhythm, their movements synchronizing into a devastating choreography that leaves me helpless between them. Each coordinated thrust fills me completely, stretching me to my physical and emotional limits.
The room echoes with the wet, primal sounds of our bodies joining, the symphony of flesh against flesh interspersed with my increasingly desperate moans and whimpers. The pleasure spirals tighter, building and cresting like a wave gathering impossible height before crashing.
“It’s… it’s too much,” I whimper, the dual sensations sending lightning bolts of pleasure coursing through my veins. I feel every inch of them, their cocks separated by that thin barrier inside me, the friction and pressure as they move in counterpoint driving me toward the edge of sanity. “I’m going to come…”
“Then come, luv,” Hank commands, his voice rough and demanding, vibrating with authority that brooks no disobedience. “Take what we give you and fly.”
The permission unleashes something primal within me. Pleasure explodes outward from my core like a supernova, white-hot and all-consuming. My body convulses between them, inner muscles clamping down with brutal force as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes through me.
I’m dimly aware of my voice—high, broken sounds that barely sound human—as my consciousness fragments into pure sensation.
Their movements become more coordinated, more rhythmic, each thrust driving deeper into me, filling me completely. The sensation is overwhelming.
“Fuck,” Gabe groans from beneath me, his body taut and coiled. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of my breasts, his cock throbbing inside me. “You’re so fucking tight.”
His words send another spike of pleasure ripping through me, not a separate orgasm but a devastating extension of the first—the same cataclysmic wave rolling through my body, gathering new strength before crashing again with even greater force.
My vision dims at the edges, my body seizing with the intensity as aftershocks transform into renewed peaks. Each thrust drags them against hypersensitized nerves, turning me into a conduit for an endless circuit of pleasure so intense it borders on pain, drawing sounds from my throat I’ve never made before—raw, animal noises of surrender and desperate need.
The pleasure is an all-consuming wildfire raging through my body, incinerating all rational thought. I’m reduced to gasps and moans, writhing between them, a creature of pure sensation and desire. Their cocks command my body. Each thrust drives me deeper into oblivion, an endless rolling orgasm.
Beneath me, Gabe’s rhythm falters. His movements become erratic and desperate. His fingers bruise my skin as his grip tightens, his breathing ragged and harsh againstmy collarbone.
“Fuck, I can’t—” Gabe chokes out, his entire body going rigid. His head slams back against the pillow. His neck corded with strain, eyes squeezing shut as pleasure overwhelms him. He pulses inside me, hot and insistent, each throb triggering new spasms of pleasure through my over-sensitized body.
Hank growls in response, his pace increasing as Gabe trembles through his release. One hand slides up to grasp my hair, yanking my head back to expose my throat to his mouth. His teeth find purchase on the sensitive junction where neck meets shoulder, the sharp sting driving me into another spiral of pleasure.
“Mine,” he snarls against my skin, his voice barely recognizable, stripped to its most primal elements. His hips snap forward with punishing force, each thrust pushing me higher, further, beyond what I thought my body could endure. The muscles in his arms stand out in stark relief as he holds me in place, using my body with single-minded determination.
He reaches his peak with a low, guttural sound that resonates through my bones. His entire frame shudders against my back, his release pulsing deep inside me in hot waves that seem endless. The sensation is exquisite, intimate in a way I’ve never experienced, marking me from the inside out.
Time loses meaning, stretching and compressing as I float in an ocean of pure sensation, anchored by their bodies surrounding mine, filling me, claiming me in the most fundamental way possible.
We stay like that for a moment, breaths mingling, our bodies pressed together, the heat of our passion slowly ebbing. Hank’s grip on my hips loosens, his hands moving to cup my cheek, his thumb gently tracing my lower lip, still swollen from his kisses.
“You did well, luv,” Hank murmurs, his voice rich with approval—and something deeper, possessive, wrapping around me like a brand. “Pleased us both beyond words.”
His fingers trace along my jaw, tilting my face up, forcing me to look at him—at the smirk curving his lips, the heat in his eyes. It’s more than satisfaction. It’s possession. Command. Pride.
“Now, did that hurt?” he asks, soft but unyielding. “All that worry for nothing, wasn’t it?”
I breathe him in—his presence, his power, the way he led me through something I thought I couldn’t take and made me crave it.
“It felt …incredible.”
