Page 59 of Boneyard HEA

Mr. Loxland pulls me closer and kisses my shoulder.

His cock is erect, and I stare at it as he says low and rough, gravel in every syllable, “Climb on me, straddle my lap. I want to see your face when you fuck yourself on my cock.” He bites my neck, once, twice, mouths it with his teeth dragging on skin making me sigh. “Hmmm. Change in plans. Down here with that mouth first.”

He uses my hair to direct me, and I open my mouth and lick my tongue around the head of his cock, wetting it, sucking a little, while his fingers turn to iron in my hair.

“Down.”

He presses me lower, until I engulf his cock, inch by rigid inch. With my ass angled off the pool paving, Tomás has chosen to undo the sides of my bikini and draw it off me. Then he works his fingers between my lips and inside me, fucking me there in time with the rise and fall of my head. The noises forced from me by the dick plundering my mouth are distractions from what is happening with those fingers. I am being used like a puppet—a wet, cock-sucking puppet with a hole.

When Loxland pulls me off him, he groans, his face is strained. Guess I did my job well. Tomás wipes his hand off on my ass then slaps it.

“Now you can climb on me,” Loxland instructs.

As gracefully as I can, kneeling to either side, I arrange my legs over him. I am spellbound by what I’m about to sit on. Jutting upward, glistening with my drool, his cock waits for me to sink onto it. I can still taste it, still taste the hint of precum, the girth stretching my mouth.

That sensation, where the head parts me and pushes in, it’s in my mind as I rise and position myself, pushing his cock backward so it glides between my engorged lips, feeling the head slide, and then...sink into me. My thighs tense as I halt.

Panting softly, I resist the need to arch my back and instead stare between my legs at what little I can see of the base of his cock, knowing the rest is already inside me.

I swallow, stifling a whimper as his cock moves.

Loxland waits patiently, though he’s tightening his grip on my hair. Palms on his muscular legs, I groan and lower myself, until I’m sitting on his thighs fully impaled, with nowhere else to go. My pussy squeezes in. I revolve myself, just a little, pumping up and down by half an inch. I duck my head, claw at his legs. That feeling of fullness is so damn good.

“Move,” he grunts.

I start the rise and falling rhythm, fucking myself onto him, desire making me into a feral thing, an animal that just wants…and wants…

More.

Cock.

His hands arrive at my waist, and I’ve fluttered my eyelids closed so I can experience every particle of every hot, wet, swollen moment of his erection going in me. The inches entering, the loss of them, the slide, the withdrawal, the awesome way my pussy swallows his cock, until he’s a part of me.

I hold his shoulders, and he pulls me close and kisses me ruthlessly, lips devouring mine while he slaps up into me. Hips tilting, he fucks me with a ruthless force that jars me and makes me shudder and moan at each re-entry.

Ruthless man. Perfect Dom.

“Now. Off. Go to Tomás.” The hunger in his eyes tells me how hard this is but he’s amused at my pitiful sounds of protest. I want to finish on him, but I also want them both. I’m dripping wetness, smearing the hairs on his thighs.

He lifts me until I wriggle free, his cock springing up, and I’m passed across to Tomás to do the same. Repeat, rinse, get wetter, hornier, letting lust drive me like a machine. I’m begging by the time Tomás releases me, my hair tangled across my face, but instead of letting me crawl to him, Loxland hops into the pool, pulls me into it and positions me until he can bend me over the edge, face down, while he thrusts into me.

He reaches around and between my legs, finding my clit and circling and rubbing it with his fingers, and when I stiffen and gasp, he stays there, repeating that same. Fucking. Circle. Just enough…

In the same second that I clench my hands on the stone, dying for that final push, he drives in again, and my walls clamp onto him, and I’m shaking, mouth strained wide, as the tsunami sweeps in, rendering me mute and blind…

Fuck. Fuck. I bow my spine so hard I’m seeing stars as he keeps pounding into me. When he comes I’m a hammered, destroyed mess, still clawing at the stone as Tomás slips across into the pool, swapping with Mr. Loxland. He grips my waist, and nails me so brutally I’m instantly lost again and don’t breathe for the first few thrusts, though my mouth is stuck open.

The orgasm hasn’t completely abandoned me, and I’m so close to coming again, but not quite, not there, craving the wildness of the peak, when I feel him spear in and stop, and his come floods me while he holds me against him, jammed in…

I gasp at the swell inside, whimpering a little from the expanding need.

He presses me into the pool edge with hips and cock. “Want to come?”

I nod frantically, ohmigod yes, whereupon…

I’m flipped onto my back, hauled backward onto the warm pavers until my legs are clear of the pool. I’m held down by Loxland, my hands pinned above my head, and I’m expecting tongue because Tomás has such a glorious, amazing tongue. My legs are held apart and spread. My bikini top is already rolled up and a mouth, someone’s mouth, Tomás it must be, begins to probe me and lick and suck down there. I shut my eyes, arching upward. His knees nudge at my inner thighs and spread my legs further.

Then a stranger interrupts, a man arrives somewhere to my left, and I glimpse him standing above.