Page 76 of The Triangle

I expect him to take her in the ass. But that’s not what he has in mind.

The tip of his cock presses along my shaft, his fingers wrapped tightly around it as he pushes…

Christine squeals as I imagine the lips of her pussy stretching to accommodate his considerable girth. She tries to sit up and ease the pain, but I hold her tight and whisper, “I love you,” over and over into her ear.

Then the tension breaks and he’s inside her. We’re both inside her.

“Oh. My fucking. God!” Christine says.

“Too much?” I ask, pushing the hair away from her face.

She responds by thrusting her hips back. Forcing us both to go deeper inside her.

Alec leans over her back, his arms braced, palms flat on the floor on either side of my shoulders. Our eyes meet and… and we smile.

His eyes say, I told you so.

Mine say, Fuck off.

We are slick with sweat as we slide into a rhythm. Christine rebels against my tight hold on her, so I ease my grip and allow her to sit up a little. Her hair hangs down, brushing against her tits, and my chest, and my face.

She leans over, kisses my mouth, and begins to moan again.

And that’s when Alec sits back up, smacks both her ass cheeks, then grips them tightly as he pounds her from behind. Just. Pounds her.

Us.

Her.

Us.

Her.

The friction of our dicks inside Christine’s pussy is overwhelming, but in all the right ways. I don’t know how it feels for her—judging from the way she’s now screaming. “Oh, God, yes! Yes! Oh, my God! Yes!” I’m gonna go out on a limb and say fantastic—but it’s a million times better with him than without him.

“Shit,” Alec moans. “Fuck.”

I think he’s gonna come. I get irrationally proud that I can outlast him, even when were in the middle of the best sex I’ve ever had.

And just when I think victory is mine, he grabs my hair, forces me up into a sitting position, still fucking the shit out of us as Christine slumps against my chest, fully spent, and kisses me on the mouth.

I explode.

And two seconds later, so does he.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE - ALEC

BEFORE

The feeling of their hands on my back as they trace the lines of my new tattoo is making me hard. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. For years.

From the first time I saw Danny, I knew I needed him. He possessed something naturally that I had to condition myself to attain.

Grit.

Grit is indefinable. But it is something that says you will not be cowed. You will not be broken. You will stare down the oncoming torrent and whisper in its face, “I am the storm,” and all that.

That is who Danny is. Organically. In his bones. I had to learn to be that way. And I learned it, in no small measure, from him.