Page 80 of Savage Surrender

“I didn’t say stop,” I agree, sliding my hand beneath Freddie’s waistband. Hot skin. His cock jumps into my palm.

He shuts his eyes.

Freddie shoves his shorts down without looking away from me. Tristan hooks a hand beneath my hip before Freddie can settle between my legs.

“Turn over.”

I make a vague attempt to help. Tristan does the work, rolling my boneless body onto my stomach while Freddie catches my head before my face lands in the blankets.

Freddie kneels between my thighs. His palms travel up the backs of my legs and stop below the heat Weller left behind. Owen gives up his place at my feet but doesn’t go far, settling against the footboard with his cock hard again. Weller watches from the chair.

Freddie bends and kisses the center of my back.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are.” Another kiss lands between my shoulders, then he moves lower. His teeth graze against my reddened skin, and the sting jerks a cry from me. Freddie lifts his head immediately.

“Be gentle with her,” Weller snaps.

“Well, that’s horseshit. You were the one who had her over your knee.”

“And now I’m telling you to watch it.”

Tristan stretches beside us on one elbow, his cock hard against his stomach, and he pushes two fingers between my legs and gets a deep moan for it. “Feels like our girl wants Freddie inside her and for both of you to shut up.”

Freddie lowers himself over me without giving me his weight. One forearm braces beside my head; his other hand finds mine and threads our fingers together against the blankets. His mouth settles near my ear, his breathing heavy.

The head of his cock presses against me from behind and he enters on a slow push, my body opening while he murmurs my name.

I lift my hips into him, dragging his pelvis over the punished heat of my ass.

“Baby.” The warning comes rougher than anything Freddie usually gives me. “Do that again and I won’t stay so nice.”

I push against him harder, and he drives into me while his mouth bites gently along my shoulder. Every thrust brushes my sore skin and folds the sting into pleasure until I can’t separate them.

“My girl. God, you feel so good. I missed you.” His grip tightens around my hand. “I missed this.”

Tristan slides his palm beneath my lower stomach and raises my hips a fraction. “Now aim here.”

Freddie follows the angle, and my next breath comes out a sob.

“Again,” Tristan says.

“Turn your face to the side.” Freddie’s mouth brushes my temple. “I want to see you.”

My orgasm rolls through the bruised, overfull center of me, slower than the ones Owen wrung from me but deep enough to take my voice. Freddie keeps moving because I beg him to, though the plea comes out as his name and then nothing. He kisses my cheek, the corner of my eye, every piece of me he can reach without letting me go.

“That’s it. You’re perfect. You’re so fucking perfect.”

I’m still clenching his cock when Tristan kisses the inside of my calf. One hand keeps my pelvis lifted while his thumb circles my clit. I jerk hard enough that Freddie has to brace us both.

His fingers travel lower, parting me around Freddie. Then one fingertip presses at the same opening already occupied.

I bury my face in the blankets.

“Too much?” Freddie asks against my ear.

Tristan waits for me. The pause is filthier than if he’d pushed straight in. I feel the tip of his finger beside Freddie’s cock, my body straining toward pressure it has no business wanting.

“I can handle it,” I say to no one in particular, because I half expect Weller to put a stop to it.