Page 123 of The Rival's Obsession
Dante groans softly—more breath than sound. “Fuck, Grant. I’ve been waiting for you.”
He presses his forehead to mine before pulling back.
Eve shifts with him—eyes flicking to mine, her hand stroking me once more before letting go.
“We’re going to take care of you, baby,” she whispers, placing kisses on my dick, my pelvis.
Her lips part around the head of my cock again. Her mouth is wet heat and wicked rhythm, drawing shudders from deep inside me.
Dante steps behind me. His body warm and strong at my back. His breath skirting over my skin and heightening every nerve. Lighting me on fire from within.
I can’t think. Can’t breathe—just feel.
Eve takes me to the edge like she knows exactly where it is. Hovering there. Then dragging me back again. Only to bring me right to the brink once more.
Dante’s mouth finds my neck, kissing the shell of my ear. My jaw.
His hands run down my spine, slow and steady. Down to my hips. My ass.
I groan.
His palm is firm as he strokes lower—between my cheeks—and I barely have time to register the coolness before his slick finger, coated with lube, slides inside.
I gasp, and my knees nearly buckle.
“That’s it, baby.”
Eve doesn’t falter. Just stays right there—mouth open, breath warm around me.
“One,” Dante says, his voice like silk soaked in sin. “Nice and easy.”
His other hand wraps around my waist, grounding me. Trailing up my stomach, my chest, pinching my nipple. His lips are warm on my neck as he kisses me there.
“Relax for me. Let go.”
He curls the finger just right, and I jerk in Eve’s mouth. She moans around me—low and encouraging.
Then a second finger.
Thicker. Fuller.
Fuck.
“Dante—”
“I’ve got you, baby,” he croons, kissing the back of my shoulder. “Just breathe.”
The first push inside me punches a moan from my chest. My grip tightens in Eve’s hair, the other reaching back—blind, desperate—until I find the nape of Dante’s neck and clutch him like I’ll drown without it.
It’s not just that it’s a man touching me like this for the first time. It’s that it’shim. Dante.
The man I’ve dreamed of longer than I care to admit.
The one I told myself I couldn’t want. Couldn’t have.
And yet, here he is—behind me, fucking me open with fingers that seem to know exactly what I’ve been starving for.
I look back over my shoulder and our eyes lock—something inside me snapping loose at the hunger I see in his gaze.
