Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 107661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
It was a rough start. With every other thrust, one of them popped out. The positioning of legs and hips took time to perfect, resulting in numerous stops and starts. But once they mastered the alignment and pace, they fell into blissful delirium.
Their hands went everywhere, gripping muscle, bruising skin, pulling one another closer, harder, as their bodies rose and fell like a tide.
Martin kissed her until the connection of lips became sloppy and impossible. She clung to his broad shoulders and panted against his neck as she rode the profound sensations of two cocks inside her.
Then they went wild, fucking into her like flesh and blood machines. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. All she could do was just lay suspended between them and let their hands move her body up and down, jacking themselves off.
Hipbones ground against her, sandwiching her in. They were so deep, so huge. Muscled physiques, burning skin, vibrating groans, intoxicating male scents, stabbing cocks—they were all around her, inside her, owning her with an intensity that shoved her over the cliff.
“Shit, shit, shit.” As the orgasm sneaked up on her, she found Martin’s eyes and exploded into panting, trembling ecstasy.
Wave after wave of tingling electricity crashed over her. She ground down on their hardness and screamed their names through multiple octaves.
Martin’s pupils dilated. His gorgeous mouth hung open, and she was gone, swept away by pleasure and love and complete happiness.
As aftershocks shuddered through her, she collapsed between them, laughing breathlessly through the wet strands of hair stuck to her face.
“Fuck, that was hot.” Martin brushed the hair from her eyes.
“A hot mess.” She sighed, utterly content yet hungry for more. “Will you finish inside Ricky?”
She didn’t have to ask him twice.
Their hands caressed and moved her limbs as they repositioned around her. She ended up on her back with Ricky between her legs. He slid into the drenched clasp of her body, lazily stroking as Martin knelt behind him.
Then Martin drove his hips, driving into Ricky’s ass as Ricky sank in and out of her pussy.
What a spectacular view. She watched their expressions contort with pleasure, their exhales escaping sharply with relief, and their bodies flexing in their urgency.
Martin circled his arms around Ricky’s sweat-slick chest and fucked into him with purpose. Hammering hips, slapping flesh, masculine moans—they consumed her with their strength and stamina.
Ricky turned his neck toward Martin behind him, and their mouths mashed together—all tongue and teeth and volcanic desire. Martin gripped his jaw, pulling him deeper into the kiss as he set the vigorous pace of their fucking.
“Fucking hell,” Ricky moaned into his mouth.
“I know.” Martin released him and pushed down on his back, trapping him between her chest and Martin’s.
There wasn’t a sliver of space between them, their bodies pressed together so tightly they couldn’t press any closer. Yet they managed to keep their weight from crushing her, using the strength in their arms and legs.
Together, the three of them become one body, one beating heart. They moved in tandem, grinding and rocking in a tumble of limbs, mouths, cocks, and sweat. Skin heated. Muscles contracted, and groans grew deeper as they reached a crescendo.
“I’m going to come.” Martin bore down on Ricky, his face tight with emotion as he seized her gaze. “Both of you with me.”
“I’m there.” Ricky panted and caught her mouth in a frenzied kiss.
He pulled back as he came, his breath caught in his throat, his mouth open in a silent roar. Martin followed him over, pounding hard and losing rhythm.
The intensity and love burning from their eyes took her with them. She sailed into the searing depths of brown and green, her hands tangling in the contrasting shades of blond and black hair, holding them to her and falling apart.
They crumbled into a sweaty, sated pile. The tension in their bodies slowly fled. Heart rates cooled down, and they snuggled into warm skin and soft hair, relaxed muscles and caressing hands.
“I finally have the answer,” she breathed.
“What?” Martin’s voice rumbled in his chest.
“Ricky Martin is the answer to every question I’ve ever had about life and death. I’ve experienced both in your arms.”
Their quiet laughter enveloped her in joy. It was an impenetrable moment.
Nothing could touch them. Not time or distance. Not the prison walls or whatever awaited outside.
They held onto the moment with six hands.
They held on as tightly as possible, in every position, for the next six weeks.
Tula couldn’t sleep. The sound of her heartbeat thrashed brokenly in her ears. Pain stabbed in her chest and throat, and if she lay here much longer, she would break down so inconsolably she would ruin the last hours she had with Martin and Ricky.
She’d promised herself she would be strong.
For her.
For them.
Their time in Jaulaso was over, and they’d spent the past few hours making love to her as if every thrust, every kiss, and every breath was their last.