I’m rolled onto my back, and Jax holds himself over me on thick, muscular arms. “Ready for number three?” he says.
In my mind, I register that there are still four men waiting at the sidelines for their own satisfaction, but rather than feeling overwhelming, a buzz of sensation skitters up my spine. With so many men, there is never going to be that moment when I’m still needy for more, but my man is already sleeping. There’s never going to be a time when I’m left unsatisfied.
Fucking Jax is hot as hell and sweet too. He kisses the corner of my mouth with a smile curving his lips. He nuzzles my neck with his nose and tells me I smell like summer blossoms. When I get close to coming again from just the graze of his hips against my clit, he teases me for being so easy to please, but when I come, things get serious. Just like the two sides of a coin, the flip side of Jax is completely different. When it’s just about him, he’s overcome with intensity and pounds so deep and hard it’s as though he wants to bury himself inside me. When he comes, the softer Jax is back, flopping on top of me and panting into my hair, laughing with a little bubble of delight, like a kid who just got given ten dollars to buy candy.
He’s not selfish either, pulling back quickly like the others did to let his friends come forward and take his place.
There are still so many of them waiting.
And I’m as hungry for fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh helpings as I’ve ever been for anything in my life.
17
Elijah
Waiting on the sidelines while Luna fucks my friends fucking blows my mind. I’ve seen this shit in porn and understood the appeal, but being here in person is different.
I’m close enough to touch her. Close enough to see her eyes screwed up before she comes and the whip of an orgasm that turns her body rigid. I’m close enough to hear how turned on Jax is and to witness the sensations that he’s experiencing.
My cock is like a nightstick in my palm, hot and heavy and ready to slide into Luna’s tight, wet heat. I’m so ready that when Ben takes a step forward, I almost grab him by the shoulder to pull him back. But knowing what I know about my friend since the explosion he lived through, there’s no way I’d push him aside. If he’s feeling confident enough to rock Luna’s world, I want him to take his chance.
Kneeling on the bed, his prosthetic juts out awkwardly. Luna, sensing that there might be physical limitations, sits up and shuffles closer to the edge. Her hands graze his chest, trailing the ladder of his abs, eyes glowing with appreciation. “You’re so fucking sexy,” she says, and Ben’s bunched shoulders relax immediately.
“Not as sexy as you,” he says, gazing down at her body. She’s got that toned look about her, honed by hours of practicing dance routines and eating right. Her skin is even all over, and her pussy has a little strip of soft chestnut curls that makes my heart clench. She’s a woman of contradictions; soft and hard, bright, and shadowed, gentle, and fierce. But it’s her gentleness she shows Ben, tugging him until he’s resting over her, hooking her leg around his hip on the side of his prosthetic. “Thank you for not telling on Asher and me,” she says softly, running her hands over his back.
He kisses her, smoothing the hair from her face, using that tender moment to ease inside her with one slow thrust that causes her back to arch. Scooping beneath, he pulls her closer, their bodies moving in a synchronized rhythm that I match to my hand. Closing my eyes, I can almost feel what it will be like to be with Luna. The perfection of her surrender, the sweetness of her pussy. I wish I could spend a whole evening worshiping her body, but there are too many of us. Getting that kind of one-on-one time wouldn’t be easy with so many other men waiting to share.
“Don’t stop,” Luna gasps, her fingers reaching to tug at Ben’s ass, giving him some resistance to move against, and he doesn’t stop. He keeps the perfect rhythm until Luna is losing her mind and so is he.
Our girl flops back onto the bed, her arms splayed. She looks as though she’s done, the four men who’ve gone before having wrung her body out like a soaked rag. But what about the three of us who are left?
As Ben rolls to the side, trailing his hand over Luna’s stomach while he catches his breath, her eyes open and scan the room. “Elijah, Hudson, Asher…”
“Yes,” we all say in unison, stepping forward like we choreographed the move.