Page 81 of Savage Surrender

Tristan’s finger slides inside and Freddie swears. The broad pressure of his cock and the slim intrusion rubbing alongside him make every tiny movement enormous. I squeeze his hand when he tries to retreat.

He draws back shallowly and pushes forward. Tristan keeps his finger inside, letting Freddie slide against it.

The sound that comes out of me is embarrassing.

His second finger presses in beside the first.

Freddie goes rigid. “Tristan, don’t overdo it.”

“Tell him what you want, sweetheart.”

The pressure already has a bite. My thighs tremble around Freddie while Tristan holds both fingers together, waiting.

“Please. I like it.”

“Fuck,” Owen mutters from somewhere.

Freddie continues fucking me alongside Tristan’s fingers. He turns his wrist, separates his fingers a fraction, and makes a satisfied sound when I yield around them.

“I think she wants both of us.”

The thought of it sends a violent pulse through me. “I do, but not my ass this time.”

“Both of us?” Freddie repeats.

“Here.” I reach between us and touch myself around the base of his cock.

Freddie’s chest rises and falls against my back.

Whitney’s face flashes in my mind.

“Not if you don’t want to...” My mouth dries around the rest. “If it feels like something you have to do because I asked⁠—”

Freddie’s response is immediate and soft. “Baby, the only thing on my mind is you. I’m good right where I am.”

Tristan shifts closer. “Stop trying to rescue us from something we want.”

“Freddie, roll her.”

“If it’s too much for her,” Weller says from the chair, “you’ll stop immediately.”

I can’t see Tristan but I picture him rolling his eyes. “No shit, Sherlock. That was the plan.”

Freddie wraps one arm under my ribs and rolls on his back, carrying me with him while his cock stays buried. I end up reclined against his chest, my back fitted to him and my knees spread outside his thighs.

Tristan rubs his hands all over my body, teasing my nipples, sucking my clit into his mouth. I jolt and a whine wrings out of me.

“Absolutely stunning,” he says, watching my face as he presses kisses up my thigh until I’m squirming. “Dream girl.”

Freddie braces both hands beneath my thighs, holding me open while Tristan lifts my hips a fraction. “Stay still.”

I can try.

His cock nudges against the crowded space, and every muscle in my body locks.

“Breathe.” Freddie rubs a palm over my stomach and then over my nipple. “If you wanna stop, say so.”

Tristan pushes forward the tiniest bit and I’m certain they won’t both fit. “Relax for us.”