“Don’t I?”
“If I don’t know it myself, how would you?”
Because he is Saint. I moaned into a breathless laugh.
Cam smiled too, but he sobered quickly, piercing Saint with a stare that asked so many questions I had not believed existed between them. “Are you sure?”
Saint’s rhythm slowed. He reached for Cam, holding his face. “I... want to try.”
The definition was important, and my breath caught. Saint did not allow men to fuck him. I didn’t know if he had ever, but even with us, withCam, he had shied away from any suggestion of it. Fear? Past trauma?
I did not know that either. But until this moment, I had been so sure that it would not change.
Raw emotion fissured Cam’s face.
Saint stared him down, then returned his attention to me, still fucking me, even as he contemplated doing something that unnerved him so much. He gripped my wrists and pulled my arms around him.Hold me?
I obliged.Forever, wingman. I am here.
Cam was gentle with Saint, moving down his spine with his hot mouth, using his tongue to work Saint open. Holding his hips as he rimmed him, controlling the cadence of Saint’s cock inside me.
It was a taste of things to come, and I knew it. Cam was versatile to a point, but his dominant streak was strong, and he’d waited a lifetime for this.
He decided when it was time. He backed up and found lube, slicking his big cock and aligning it with Saint. With one hand between Saint’s shoulder blades and the other gripping my wrist, he pushed forward and in, no stopping, no mercy, until he bottomed out.
Saint’s body was vivid with tension. I breathed with him, flexing my hips, keeping him hard as he hyperventilated into my neck. But I did not comfort him. This was not something he had to endure. If he did not like it, we would stop. Andthenwe would hold him all night long.
Breathe. Come on.
Saint shuddered, hands tightening into fists, at war with himself.
Cam rubbed his back, holding still, but not forever.
He began to move, fucking Saint so gently he barely shifted his beautiful body.
A sound I did not catch escaped Saint. Pleasure or pain, I could not tell. I needed to see his face.
I forced him from the sanctuary of my neck. Held his gaze and moved my body harder, riding him.
Saint’s eyes rolled.
Yes.
I squeezed Cam’s fingers.He is okay.
Cam got the memo and ploughed Saint deeper, pushing him into me, grinding us all together so hard the bed protested and jumped on the hardwood floor.
Saint growled and curved his spine.
“That’s it,” Cam murmured. “Fuck us both.”
Saint hung his head and widened his arms, palms strong against the mattress. He took over where Cam stilled, pushing back against Cam, taking his pleasure, before thrusting back into me. He moaned, low and deep, and I could not help it.
I came, early and unashamed, though my cock remained hard on my belly, basking in the mess these men made of me.
Behind Saint, Cam smirked, then he descended and claimed my mouth, snapping his hips, retaking control. He fucked Saint breathless. Fucked him until he was the same shivering, sweaty disaster he’d made of the two of us, tangling his fingers in Saint’s hair, whispering love into his ear.
I kept my promise and held Saint tight, in my arms and in my body. I had come already, but the pleasure did not fade. It burned bright and strong, and I knew I had more. That the desire I carried for these men would never be sated.