The Boys Who Loved Me - Krista Wolf Page 0,33

doggie-style.

This…

They were so alike, yet so different. And all three of them felt so fucking good inside me.

This is soooo nice.

It was incredible, the feeling of being so shared and loved. Of being passed back and forth, as they rotated positions and used me from every direction. I was always full; from both in front and behind. Never left empty, as two or more of them were constantly gliding in and out of my body, my mouth, my two slick, pumping fists.

The room grew warmer and more humid, and the air began to thicken with the scent of sex. It only drove me crazier. I writhed and grinded and climaxed around them, screwing each of them with a wild abandon I never knew I possessed. Grunting. Moaning. Sometimes even screaming, until a thick hand clapped itself over my mouth to keep the hotel security from investigating my cries.

I can’t believe this…

But there was nothing to disbelieve. I was doing everything I ever imagined I could, with the three men I loved and valued most in the world. They took turns holding me, kissing me throughout. Whispering things in my ear that were sweet at times, dirty at others. Always knowing when to say which. Somehow inherently realizing which words would drive me to the pinnacle of pleasure, and which would make me gush with emotion, as my stomach erupted in butterflies.

Warren eventually came all over me, pulling out just in time to squeeze himself with one big fist. The others looked on as he showered my quivering stomach with his hot seed. It rained down all over my body, my breasts, even my face; that’s how excited he was, as I locked eyes with him and silently pleaded with him to plunge back inside me.

In time Luke took over, screwing my come-covered body. That part seemed the most wicked of all, knowing I’d just been filled and showered by our two other friends. And yet he kept going, pumping away between my thighs. Fucking me harder and harder, until I clawed his ass and growled into his face and practically begged him to come inside me.

He did of course, roaring like a blond-maned lion as he buried his last thrust so deep I squealed. Then he went off like a bomb, detonating inside me. His iron-like shaft thumping and surging deep in my belly, splashing my insides with his warmth and wetness.

It ended with me as the center of our tangled heap, stretched across all three of them on the king-sized bed. I was panting hard, my breasts rising and falling in rhythm to my breathing. Luke was gently kissing my shoulder. Warren was tracing slow circles around one areola, watching my nipple stiffen with rapt fascination as I struggled to catch my breath.

I was all ready to sleep. To cuddle up between two or more of these hard, warm bodies and just let the drowsiness and euphoria overtake me. But Adrian had other plans.

“I’m not finished.”

Two rough hands rolled me onto my stomach, as the others moved to the opposite side of the bed to give us room. I felt Adrian’s body rise up over my back. My cheeks parted slightly as he pushed past them, then plunged the full length of his hardness straight back into me from behind.

“You’re not finished either,” he warned throatily, his mouth moving close enough to growl into my ear.

Twenty-Five

KAYLA

“That Tabasco? Or is it Franks?”

Adrian stared back at Luke for a long second, then lifted the hot sauce from its lair behind the napkin dispenser. The yellow and red label came into stark, undeniable view.

“Neither,” Adrian announced. “It’s Cholula.”

“Oh.”

“You should’ve known that by the distinctive wooden cap,” Warren added, through a mouthful of eggs.

Luke settled back into his part of the booth and frowned. “Well, is it good?”

“It’s hot sauce,” Adrian shrugged. “It’s all the same shit.”

“That’s a filthy lie!” Warren jumped in. “You take that back!”

I watched, detached, sipping my coffee as the hot sauce debate began heating up. We were at Kathy’s, which when we were younger had been called Owen’s. Before that it had been something else — some old name like ‘Bruce’ or something that no one ever used anymore. The place had changed hands more times than anyone could count, really. But it had always been named after the person who owned it, and it had always been a diner.

“You think the wooden cap makes it taste any better?” Luke was asking Warren.

“Didn’t say that.”

“Because it’s a cap,