Page 40 of The Triple Play

My only answer is a moan, muffled by Denver’s mouth on mine. Then he starts moving lower, sucking small kisses to my earlobe and then down the opposite side of my neck.

Griffin takes possession of my lips, kissing me like he wants to own me. Deeper, stronger, drinking me in like a man lost in the desert, coming across water for the first time in days. My hands tangle in his short, wavy hair. When my eyes open, I can see the freckles dusting his cheeks.

Denver moves back, standing and taking my hand. He presses a kiss to my knuckles. “I’m gonna let Trip out, then we’re taking this upstairs. Okay?”

I nod and then he’s gone, taking Trip to the back door. Griffin carefully moves my legs from his lap and stands as well. Then, without any warning, he lifts me up and into his arms.

And for the second time today, I realize that when these men carry me, I don’t feel like I’m five feet ten and built like a Norwegian speed skater. I simply feel like a woman being cared for by a man.

My fingers continue to play with the hairs at the nape of Griffin’s neck as he slowly moves to the steep staircase that leads to the loft. I’m not some naive, inexperienced little girl. I know perfectly well what’s likely going to happen once we get upstairs.

Yet, all of the nerves I was feeling not that long ago, the doubt and hesitation over whether they were truly attracted to me, has disappeared.

When Griffin lays me down carefully on the mattress, I keep my hands looped around his neck and tug his head down so I can kiss him again.

Denver comes up the stairs moments later and settles on the bed next to me, stretching out, instead of hovering like Griffin. I break my kiss with Griffin to turn and kiss Denver, greedily needing to feel his lips again.

Griffin’s hands go to the hem of my sweater, and then they’re sliding underneath, his palms warm against my skin. “Can I take this off, Liv?”

I mumble my consent as I kiss Denver, arching my back to help Griffin remove my sweater. Denver pulls back only to yank his shirt over his head as well and then he falls back on me, our kiss turning messy and desperate. I want to see him, I want to see both of them, but I don’t want to stop kissing.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

Griffin’s words are full of reverence, and I pull away from Denver to look at him. He’s standing beside the bed, shirtless, his muscular torso dusted with the same dark ginger-coloured hair that’s on his head, leading in a trail down to his pants. His fists are clenched at his sides, as if he’s struggling to hold himself back.

I don’t want him to hold back.

I sit up and grab onto the loops of his pants and pull him forward until he’s forced to put his knees on the bed. “Kiss me.”

“You heard her.” Denver grins from beside me before dipping his head to the swell of my upper breast and pressing an open-mouthed kiss right there.

Griffin makes a sound, somewhere between a growl and a groan, then tunnels his fingers into my hair and plunders my mouth. That’s the only way to describe his kiss. He takes possession of my mouth with his, pressing me back onto the bed and moving over top of me. Denver chuckles, shifting away. I hear the telltale sound of him taking his pants off, and my pulse races at the thought of him being naked. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him move around the bed, and a mixture of disappointment and a little relief floods me when I see a pair of black boxer briefs still covering him, albeit with a prominent bulge in the front.

Griffin lifts his head and looks down at me with such warmth and wonder in his eyes. “All good?” he asks quietly, his fingers grazing my jaw. I nod, and he presses a soft kiss to my lips before moving off me. Denver moves in quickly, his hands coming to the waist of my pants as his lips land on my belly button.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs against my skin. I’m far from perfect, but if this man wants to say that while he takes off my pants, I won’t protest.

I make the stupid move of trying to lift my hips and wince as pain shoots through my foot.

“Careful, Pixie. Let me do it,” Denver chides gently. Griffin’s now out of his pants, too, and sits down at the head of the bed. His hips are right next to me. His cock is right there, pressing against the dark grey fabric of his boxers. My mouth waters.

“He’s gonna make you feel so good, Liv.” Griffin lifts my hand and kisses each knuckle before bending over and kissing my lips. “And I’m gonna drink down your cries when you come.”

“Fuck,” Denver grunts. I try to pull away to see what he’s reacting to, but Griffin doesn’t let me go, holding me in place with his kiss. Turns out, I don’t need to see anything because Denver then says, “This is way hotter than I ever expected it to be. Seeing him kiss you, knowing I get to taste you. Jesus, Pixie.”

My underwear is slid down next, and then the cold air hits my damp core. I gasp, my head tilting back at the first brush of Denver’s moustache against my sensitive skin. It tickles, but in the best kind of way. The warmth of his tongue hits me next, and I turn my head toward Griffin, my hand blindly seeking something to hold on to.

“Give her your dick, dude.” The words Denver growls reverberate against my pussy, making me squirm. Or maybe that’s the idea of touching Griffin’s cock.

“You want that, Liv?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

He moves position and pushes his underwear down until his cock springs free. Denver’s thumbs, which were stroking my inner thighs, pause for a second.

“Yup, okay, this is a little weird now.”

Griffin chokes out a laugh, his cock bobbing. “Seriously?”