“God, you’re perfect,” he groans. “So fuckin’ tight.”
Rhys is kneeling behind me, hands gripping my waist, fingers flexing. There’s paint smeared across his thighs and streaked on his wrist. His cock drags heavy along the seam of my ass, and I feel the way his breath stutters, controlled but faltering.
“This,” he says, voice ragged. “You sure you want it?”
“Yes.” My nails dig into Benji’s chest. “I want all of it.”
Rhys presses forward.
The stretch is insane.
Benji groans beneath me, deep and low. “Fuck, baby. Your gripping me like a fist.”
“Focus,” Rhys bites out behind me. “I’m not gonna hurt her.”
“You better not,” Benji warns, but he softens it with a kiss to my throat. “You good, precious?”
I whimper. “So good. So full. Oh my god move.”
Rhys sinks the rest of the way in and my entire body lights the fuck up. I feel them everywhere, Benji deep in my cunt, Rhys grinding into my ass, one thick, hot cock pressing forward while the other nudges impossibly deeper. My mouth drops open.
Jett crouches in front of me, a devil ready to collect. His cock twitches, thick and flushed and proud, and he watches with that wide-eyed, feral edge.
“I don’t know if I wanna fuck your mouth or just watch,” he growls. “You look like a fucking wreck.”
“She’s a work of art,” Rhys snaps behind me, driving in again, sharp and precise.
“She’s mine,” Jett answers, voice low and tight as a pulled bowstring.
Benji huffs a laugh beneath me. “She’s ours, boys. Take it easy.”
“No,” I gasp, dragging myself upright. “Don’t take it easy. Take me apart.”
Jett groans like that broke him. His hand fists in my hair and he pulls me down to take him in. My lips stretch wide around him. I fucking love it. I love the growl that rips out of him when I gag, the way his hips jerk forward like he forgot how to hold back.
Rhys fucks up into me, one hand fisted in my hair alongside Jett’s, the other gripping my hip so tight I’ll bruise. Benji rocks slow, letting me grind against his chest, his cock held tight by both my body and Rhys’s behind me.
“You’re amazing,” Benji whispers. “Taking both of us. My perfect little mess.”
“Mine,” Rhys breathes behind me. “So beautiful.”
Jett’s hand tightens. “You’re both talkin’ too much. Let her choke.”
They move in rhythm, fucking me on both ends like it’s a test of endurance, a battle for ownership, a goddamn act of faith. And I’m the altar.
They use me like an offering.
Like art.
Like therapy.
And I want more.
Benji is groaning beneath me. He’s close. I’m dragging him to the edge with every twitch, every slick grind. His praise never stops, his voice adoring through clenched teeth. “That’s it, fuck, you’re takin’ us so good. Your pretty cunt’s so full. You’re squeezin’ the life outta me, fuck, I’m gonna come.”
Rhys fucks into me harder, rough now, precision lost to obsession. He wraps one hand around my throat and the other’s splayed on my back. “She was made for this,” he snarls, breath hot against the back of my neck. “To be filled, to be claimed.”
Jett is unraveling in front of me, muscles tight, jaw clenched. His cock bulges in my throat, and his hands are wild in my hair. He’s trying not to break me, but wants to so bad. He pulls back enough for me to gasp, spit glistening down my chin, and glares at the other two like he might murder them for touching me.
