The Daymakers, page 16
Yeah, I could see how fucking the guys wouldn’t be a hardship if you were attracted to them.
Charlotte—I couldn’t think of her as Dreamer just yet—reached up and touched my face. “I promise if my feelings change, you’ll be the first to know.” She ran her thumb along my jaw and over my lips. “Now kiss me, because I’ve been dying to do it all night.”
I groaned softly, leaning forward to capture her lips with mine and quickly realizing my mask was in the way. I wanted to roar in frustration, but she just laughed, pulling my mask up my neck, over my jaw and lips, until the entirety of the bottom half of my face was exposed.
It was bullshit. I wanted to bury myself inside her, lose myself in the softness of her body and taste every inch. How could I do that in this damn mask?
My frustration must have shown, because she brushed her lips across mine. She tasted like sugar, and her lips were pink from all the dyed candy. I wanted to suck the color from them, kiss her until she was breathless.
“I’ll put my mask on, so you don’t have to worry,” she murmured between kisses, her teeth nipping the point of my chin.
“Wait.” I grabbed her hand as she reached for the silk mask. “I want to see your face as I make you come. Just once.”
“Me too,” Poet said behind her. “I want to know what color your eyes go when Hero makes you scream his name.” He stroked fingers down her spine. “I want to watch you watch me as I bury my face in your delicious pussy.” He let out a shuddering breath, curling himself closer. “I’ve been jerking off to the thought of it for days.”
I felt her body tremble between us, and the sense of rightness was almost overwhelming. This was how it was meant to be with Poet and I. We were meant to have a woman between us. Or Poet between me and Charlotte.
This was what we had been missing all this time. A soft counterpart to our hard edges.
I gripped Charlotte under her chin, tugging her face closer until she could see nothing but me. “Is that what you want, sweetheart? You want Poet to tongue-fuck your pussy while I fuck your mouth?”
I wasn’t sure what Poet was doing with his hands, but she was already panting soft breaths against my face. “Yes! God, yes!”
“Good girl,” I purred. “Now get naked and show Poet his feast.”
We all stripped out of our clothes in what must have been world record time, and she crawled up the pillows, flashing her pussy, making me palm my achingly hard cock. She rolled onto her back and spread her thighs, and Poet groaned.
Hell, I groaned too. It was such a blatantly vulnerable act, showing the most hidden part of yourself to someone, and she’d done it for the both of us with desire in her eyes. There was a little bit of anxiety too; I was just going to have to show her that she had nothing to worry about with us.
Poet was naked except for his prosthetic, and I knew he wanted to take it off. We never had sex with it on, because honestly, that thing was a weapon in the bedroom.
He hesitated, his eyes darting between Charlotte and me, and I hated the look of uncertainty in his eyes. He’d been who he was for so long now, I honestly didn’t even think about it. But there was always a small worry that flitted across his face. Worry he’d be rejected. Worry he wouldn’t be seen as a real man anymore. All these things had come out in his therapy sessions when he was a teen, and conversations late at night when he was wrapped in my arms.
I hated that I couldn’t ease that for him, but this next bit was between the two of them.
Charlotte’s knees closed, and I held myself taut. “What’s wrong?” Worry flitted across her own face, and maybe a little self-consciousness.
“I’d like to take my prosthetic off for this.”
Her eyes dipped down to his leg. It was the best prosthetic money could buy, and his surgeons had been amazing at the time. He’d been young enough when he had his accident that his recovery had been fairly easy, all things considered. If he’d gotten the same injury now, or in ten years, it would have been a lot harder.
Charlotte was still frowning. “Okay?” she said hesitantly.
Poet’s cheeks burned red. “I just don’t want you to freak out.”
Understanding crossed her face in a wave, quickly followed by incredulity. “Oh my god, Poet. I swear on fucking Bowie’s memory that if you think I’m anything short of one hundred percent attracted to you right now—regardless of whether or not you have a left foot—then I’m going to put my clothes back on and come over there to smack you silly,” she grumbled. “I want you to do whatever makes you most comfortable. And then I want you to climb up this bed and tongue-fuck me like your life depends on it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he breathed with a laugh, sitting down on the end of the bed and taking his leg off quickly.
“Well, while you’re waiting, I might just have a little taste.” I bounced onto the bed and pushed her knees apart, diving between those juicy thighs like I’d dreamed of doing. Her fingers gripped onto my hair as if she wanted to pull it from the roots, making me groan.
“Holy…” She lost the ability of speech after I sucked her clit between my teeth, then laved the flat of my tongue over it. Her thighs clenched around my head, and it was perfect. I sucked, licked and stroked, until her wetness spread across my mouth.
“Excuse me, I think you’re eating something that belongs to me,” Poet huffed from beside me. I pulled away, and Charlotte whimpered, her hands reaching out to drag my head back to where it belonged.
Poet grinned down at her. I knew that look. Oh, shit’s about to get real fun.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, little Dreamer. Hero here is going to fuck you so hard, the whole bus will rock from side to side. Then he’s going to pump you so full of his cum that it’s going to leak down those pretty white thighs.” He reached out and stroked the aforementioned thighs, where they were still flung over my shoulders. “Then I’m going to eat his release right from your pretty cunt and fuck what’s left all the way back inside you until you’re filled to the brim with us.” His voice was pure sex, and my dick was so hard that if he didn’t stop the dirty talk, I might just come all over the sheets like an amateur. “Do you want that, baby?”
Her eyes were big and wild, her pupils blown wide as she breathed heavily through parted lips. “Yes.”
Poet’s grin made me remember why I fell in love with him in the first place. Pure devilment wrapped around the softest center.
“Open for me, sweetheart, before I embarrass myself,” I told her softly. “If you want to stop at any point, say the word, okay?”
She looked at me like I was crazy. “Did you hear him? Why would I want to stop any of that?”
I laughed, but it quickly turned into a groan as she spread her thighs for me, and I could see just how wet his words had made her. Climbing between them and up her body, I kissed her, the rough fabric of my mask scraping against her cheeks and nose as her lips devoured mine.
I centered my throbbing cock at her entrance, and as I pushed inside her, I was glad for the mask, because my eyes rolled right into the back of my head. It had been almost a year since I’d been with a woman. The way she was gripping me was fucking heaven.
Grabbing her calf, I pushed one leg up over my shoulder so I could get deeper. I wanted to forget where I ended and she began. I wanted to bring her so much pleasure so fast that her head would spin. Mostly because I knew I had, like, thirty seconds to make her head explode before I came.
I sucked one of her nipples into my mouth, biting it gently until she chanted my name with pleasure. It was a heady goddamn feeling, and I knew as soon as I blew, I was going to want to be inside her again.
Addictive, that’s what she was. A drug that I wanted to shoot directly into my veins.
I went hard and deep, grinding my body against her clit with each thrust until she was panting my name on moans so loud, I hoped the other guys could hear it. Hell, I hoped the driver could hear how good I was fucking her.
“Oh fuck… Oh fuck. I’m so close, please, Hero.” I didn’t know what she was begging for, but I reached around and pinched her clit. She shattered around me like a bomb, her pussy milking me like it was sucking the very soul from my body.
I came right after her, my thrusts stuttering as I blew pulse after pulse of my load inside her. Panting, she lowered her leg from my shoulder, and I collapsed on top of her until I could feel my thighs again. I was careful not to crush her, though. I wasn’t a massive guy, but I was still a solid weight, and she was a tiny little thing.
My mask had crept up my cheekbones, with only my eyes and the top of my head hidden from her now. She kissed along my jaw, then pulled my mask down hesitantly. I hated it. I wanted to rip it off, fling it across the room. I wanted to see the look on her face as her eyes trailed across my features. I wanted to stare into her eyes, read her emotions, and have them read mine right back.
I kissed the side of her face, up over her cheeks and the lids of her eyes. She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving and a small smile curling her lips.
She really was beautiful.
“I hope you aren’t worn out yet, sweetheart, because we aren’t even close to done.” I rolled off her, and Poet was there. I couldn’t see his face either, but every line of his body was straining toward us. A smirk curled my face, and I wanted to laugh at the pure contentment I felt right then. “Hope you’re ready, because I think this is about to get wild.”
Poet knelt on the bed. “Roll her onto your chest, Hero. I’m hungry.”
TWENTY-FIVE
DREAMER
Hero had melted my synapses. My core was still clenching with aftershocks, pleasure making my limbs feel heavy. Poet stroked a hand down my spine, and goosebumps trailed after his fingers. My skin felt too tight, too filled with pleasure. But I wanted more. I wanted everything they’d give me.
Poet’s hands pushed me higher up Hero’s body, until his face was buried between my breasts. Hero pressed them together and sighed happily as he spread his thighs, forcing my knees further apart. I could feel Poet’s hot breath on my overheated folds.
“Look at him leaking from you, baby,” Poet cooed as his tongue dipped inside me, and he hummed happily. “You taste so good together.” His voice was muffled as he lapped his boyfriend’s cum from inside me.
I forgot how to breathe.
His talented tongue pressed deep inside me, like he was chasing the taste. While my logical brain would be horrified, the wanton hussy I’d become thought it was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever participated in. I thrust my ass further in the air, giving him better access, and Hero took the opportunity to suck my nipple into his mouth, the long pulls going straight to my clit.
Tension burned through my body, and the pleasure climbed higher and higher, pooling deep in my body. I realized I was moaning incomprehensibly, but mostly, I was begging.
Begging for more.
Begging for release.
Begging for him to fuck me into his best friend.
Poet’s hand slid down, finding my clit quickly. A slight pressure, a flick of his fingers, and I was exploding again. I could feel myself dripping my release—and Hero’s—out, and Poet wasted no time lapping it up from my thighs.
His hands gripped my hips, and he dragged me down until my face was between Hero’s pecs, his nipple just beside my mouth. I could feel Hero’s dick—once again hard—pressed tight to my stomach. Lifting up, I looked back over my shoulder as Poet nudged Hero’s knees together, tilting my hips up slightly. “I’m going to fuck you into Hero now, baby girl, until I fill you so full with my cum, your little belly will bulge with it.”
My whole body lit up with pleasure at the idea. Well, that’s new. I suspected Poet might have a breeding kink. I also suspected I might have one now too.
“I have to take my mask off. I want to taste your skin as I bury myself inside you. Don’t lift your head from Hero’s chest, Dreamer. Do you understand?” His dick nudged at my entrance, sliding up and down my slit, the fleshy head hitting my clit and making me pant with need. “Are you going to look?”
I pressed back into him, trying to get his cock exactly where I needed it. “No, I won’t look. Please, Poet,” I begged, my eyes screwed shut.
The noise of pure satisfaction was the only warning I got until he was burying himself deep inside me. I’d seen his girthy cock earlier, and as it stretched me, it bordered on too much. Holding my hips tightly, Poet stretched along my back, his arms either side of my shoulders and he fucked me in short, quick strokes right into the hard body of Hero.
I took it back. It wasn’t too much. It was perfection.
We all groaned. Being sandwiched between the two of them like this was something else. Something that set all my senses on fire: the pressure of Poet on my back, buried deep inside me; the salty taste of Hero’s sweat on my lips; the puffs of his grunted breaths against my sticky forehead. The soft words of praise Poet was whispering in my ear with each thrust.
It was transcendent. And I knew that this was going to alter me.
I came hard, my teeth biting into Hero’s fleshy chest muscle, screaming until my voice was hoarse. Poet didn’t stop, switching angles and fucking me down into his boyfriend’s torso, harder and harder as my clit ground against Hero’s thigh.
“One more, baby girl. Come on, Lottie, give me one more,” he encouraged me with a strained voice. I shook my head, but even as I did, I could feel the orgasms stacking, chasing the aftershocks of the last one with the crest of a new wave.
I screamed Poet’s name so loudly, they probably heard it back in Phoenix. My body trembled and shook, black dots dancing in my vision as he followed right after me, Hero’s release splattering across my stomach.
Rolling to the side, Poet kept me sandwiched between them as he kissed my neck, my shoulders, every part of my oversensitive skin. “You’re so goddamn amazing,” he breathed, his voice reverent. I wanted to desperately see his face. I wanted to kiss him with as much heat and raw passion as he was showing me.
I felt perilously close to crying and I had no damn idea why, except that the whole thing had been intensely pleasurable.
Hero reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the blindfold we’d discarded. Slipping it gently over my eyes, he rolled me so I was on my back, then brushed his lips over mine. I was grateful in that moment for the masks, because it meant when the tender kisses were pressed on my lips, the fabric caught the tears leaking from my eyes.
A kiss pressed to my right cheek, the brush of Hero’s stubble across my oversensitive skin feeling like too much. “I’ll get something to clean you up.” He moved from the bed, and I shivered at the cool air that replaced him.
My back to his front, Poet pulled me closer and tighter, his arm around my waist, anchoring me. “Are you okay?” he whispered softly.
A smile curled my lips, even as I shivered. “So okay.”
He nuzzled my nape. “Thank you.”
“You just gave me, like, five back-to-back orgasms. I think I should be thanking you.” My body felt languid in a way that only cats and ooze could feel. Like there was nothing holding me together except my skin.
His chuckle reverberated against my back. “I think it was only four, but the night’s still young.”
Hero returned with a washcloth and a couple of bottles of water. My throat was parched; clearly, I’d been more vocal than I thought.
Poet kissed me as Hero ran the washcloth over my thighs and my core, cleaning me up. It made me flush bright pink, but luckily, they probably couldn’t see in the dim light.
Swearing softly, Hero muttered, “I don’t know why it’s so fucking hot to see your cunt dribbling Poet’s cum, but I swear it does something primal to my brain.”
Poet chuckled, his hips flexing against mine. How was he fucking hard again already? “I think it’s time for orgasm number five.”
I wanted to protest, but my pussy clenched in anticipation. I wanted what they were promising me, more than I should. How was I ever going to go back to ordinary guys, now that I’d had The Daymakers?
The bus was moving by the time I disentangled myself from between Poet and Hero. I needed to pee. Climbing over Hero, I groaned when he gripped my hips and ground himself into my stomach.
“Where are you going?” he whispered, his voice roughened by sleep and so fucking sexy, I wanted to purr.
“I have to pee. No one wants a UTI.”
He kissed my shoulder as I sat on the edge of the bed and got my bearings. I’d made myself practice over and over getting to the bathroom with my eyes covered. I knew where every obstacle was, how many steps it was from the edge of my bed to the door, then from the door to the bathroom.
I followed the memorized path down the hallway, and once I’d firmly locked the bathroom door behind me, I peeled off my mask and turned on the lights. Hanging my mask on the small hook behind the door, I did what I had to do, then stood in front of the mirror, washing the sticky sweat from my skin. I looked thoroughly, one hundred percent fucked.
My lips were swollen, and my chin was red from Hero’s stubble. There was a hickey on the upper swell of my breast, though I couldn’t remember which one of them had done that. My body was achingly, deliciously sore.
The smile on my face threatened to crack my cheeks.
Dammit. I was getting attached. It was hard not to when Poet was so fucking sweet and Hero was so damn caring; I felt like the only girl that either of them had ever looked at.
Have you ever had an orgasm so good that you start to wonder if you can keep the person giving them to you forever?
Love at first O. Now multiply it by two.
I was so screwed.
I pulled my hair up into something no longer resembling a rat’s nest that had just hosted an orgy, and brushed my teeth. Pulling my mask back on, I unlocked the door and stepped back into the hallway. Five steps back to the door.
