It meant the men could stare down at me, and the moment was intensely powerful. They must have felt it too because both of them drew in a breath and held it. My gaze darted from Clay to the center of my legs and the man who held himself steady but hadn’t advanced on me.
“He won’t without your consent,” Clay said. “So, tell him what we want him to do.”
He’d said we and not you, and knowing Clay wanted this as much as I did made my heart skip and stumble.
I peered up at the man and held his gaze while I lifted a hand toward Clay. I curled it behind his neck to hold on to him, and the words came from me drenched with need. “I want you to fuck me.”
Permission granted, the man inched forward, and the sheathed tip of him brushed against my entrance, the head of his cock sliding back and forth in luxurious, teasing strokes.
Did both men understand the trembles cascading down my legs weren’t anxiety, but anticipation? Excitement flooded my system, overwhelming me and stealing my breath. So when he lined himself up and began to push inside me, my mouth rounded into a perfectly silent, “Oh.”
He was thick and long and a lot to take, but he moved slowly, and the sensation of fitting my body around him had my toes curling into points inside my shoes. Sheer concentration was etched in his expression as he eased deeper, like he was struggling mightily to keep control.
Inch by inch, he slid inside . . . all the way until I put a hand on his bare stomach, signaling for him to stop. That was as far as he could go. He might have been the biggest guy I’d ever had, and I was going to have to work up to being able to take more.
“Shit,” I groaned when he withdrew his hips and then pressed forward again at a painstakingly slow pace. Pleasure swamped my brain, graying out the rest of the room so only these two men I was trapped between remained.
“You like it?” Clay’s tone was provocative. “Tell him.”
The man’s tempo picked up to a steady, perfect pace. Fast and deep enough to drive into the right spot, but just slow enough so I could feel every movement—even the subtle flex of him when I gasped with satisfaction.
“Oh, my God,” I said. “It feels so fucking good.”
The man’s jaw tightened. He liked hearing that, and maybe he wanted to reply, but it looked like he was holding it back. Perhaps he worried how that would go over with his friend, the one who was in charge of this scene and could end it at any moment.
“Yeah?” I didn’t have to see Clay’s corrupt smile to know it was there. I heard it in his question. “Is he stretching you out?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
I sank further into the couch and back against his chest as the man clamped a hand on my hip, leaned closer, and held me in place so he could fuck me better. It was madness being sandwiched between these two men, and there was hardly any space between us. The man was inside me, and Clay was wrapped around me, so it felt like we were all connected. One unit, rather than three separate people.
It was indescribable how much I liked the concept.
Since he still had his suit on, a bead of sweat formed at the man’s temple and trickled down. I understood. I was sweating as well beneath the boning of my corset. Did Clay somehow know? His hands went around me and slid up the front of my top . . . stopping when they reached the top slide-clasp.
He undid the first one, then another.
It wasn’t enough to expose my breasts to the man or anyone else in the room. He’d only done it to make room for himself, so he could slip a hand inside and cup one of my breasts. I moaned when his fingers found my nipple and began to pinch.
“Everyone’s watching you,” he said, squeezing harder. “Just like you wanted. You look so fucking sexy, they all wish they were him right now.”
I tried to picture what they saw. How the man’s thrusts were pushing deeper inside me, little by little. The way my legs were wrapped around his hips, one hand splayed out on his chest and my other still bent behind me to hold on to Clay. He had one hand down the top of my undone corset, and the other at my waist where my skirt was bunched.
And while my gaze was locked on to the man in front of me, my attention was split equally with the one at my back. The man was physically inside me, but Clay was inside my mind, stoking my wicked thoughts.