Page 136 of Dusty Spur Ranch Cowboys

Red eases into me in one long stroke, gripping my shoulder while he settles fully inside me. My body tightens around him before melting all at once.

“Fuck,” he breathes against my ear. “You take me so good.”

His hands lock around my hips, possessive enough that I already know I’ll carry the bruises. My body answers him with another tight squeeze, drawing a groan from deep in his chest.

Willy steps toward me with one hand wrapped around himself, and my breath catches before I can stop it.

My gaze drops to the angry flush of his cock, following the flex of his fist with every stroke. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

The confidence written all over him only feeds the heat already burning through me, leaving me pinned against Red while Emmett crowds closer, closing the last bit of distance between us.

I reach for Willy before I can think better of it.

The veins stand proud beneath my fingers, and when I drag my tongue across the salt at the head of his cock, he shudders hard enough that his knees almost give.

His free hand buries itself in my hair and stays there while I take him into my mouth, unhurried, savoring every inch. I want every sweep of my tongue and every pull of my lips to mean something.

I want all of them watching. I want them to see exactly how greedy I am, how badly I want to please them, claim them, and give back every piece of what they’ve given me.

Behind me, Red starts moving. Every thrust lifts me just enough that I slide back down over him again, his hands keeping me steady while my mouth struggles to keep pace with Willy.

I push back against Red’s hips, draw Willy deeper, and keep going, taking everything he’s willing to give. His head falls back, his jaw clenches, and his fingers tighten painfully in my hair.

The sting only drives me harder.

I want to feel him lose every bit of control.

Red drives into me with a hunger that wipes everything else away. Sweat gathers along my brow while my knees threaten to give out beneath me.

Every thrust stretches me in that aching way I can’t get enough of, pulling another helpless roll of my hips from me as I chase him right back.

Willy groans my name through clenched teeth.

I lift my eyes to him and catch the look on his face. The cocky grin has disappeared, replaced by dark, desperate want that twists deep inside me.

I want them both coming apart together.

I want one spilling down my throat while the other pulses inside me. I want to leave this night carrying every piece of them, and I need Emmett with us too.

The need hits so hard my hands shake as I reach for his fly. He shifts beside Willy until he’s within easy reach, close enough that my hand only has to leave Willy for a heartbeat to find him.

My palm settles over the hard length straining against his jeans, and he flushes all the way to the freckles scattered across his cheeks. He never breaks eye contact while I work open his zipper and free him.

His cock falls against my thigh, flushed, twitching, and already slick at the tip, and the sight sends another rush of heat through me.

Behind me, Red’s pace turns rougher.

His breath breaks against my ear while every thrust rocks me forward, his voice reduced to a rough stream of “fuck… yeah…” that vibrates against my neck.

Each movement rocks me hard against Red’s lap, the rough denim of his jeans scraping along the backs of my thighs, the seams dragging across my skin leaving me desperate for whatever comes next.

Willy’s grip stays firm in my hair while I take him to the root, his cock filling my mouth until tears sting my eyes. Every instinct tells me to cough, but I fight through it, swallowing around the salt, the heat, and him without letting up.

I want all three of them balanced on the edge with me.

I tip my head just enough to reach Emmett. My hand slides down to wrap around his cock, stroking him while I keep my mouth on Willy.

Emmett’s breath catches so hard it almost disappears. He braces both hands on my shoulders, trembling, while precum beads hot against my palm.