Page 236 of Double or Nothing

“And the next,” she replies.

“And the day fucking after.” He raises himself to look at me. “No lube,” he says. “Let it hurt.”

It’s a big ask.

She’s wet, but still tight. Her pussy clenched around his cock so tight it’s almost barred for access, but all I have to do is picture Christopher Otley’s smug fucking face. The way Bill will be smiling at him like he’s some bastard golden boy from overseas.

I raise her ass, line myself up as close as I can to Jack’s cock, but she can’t take it. It makes her cry out. Perched on two dicks at once without sinking down.

“How much do you want to feel it tomorrow?” Jack asks her. “Show us how bad you want us to leave our mark. Ball’s in your court, Soul Girl.”

That’s when I feel her own rage, exploding out of her. Our gorgeous girl braces herself on Jack’s shoulders, and shoves herself down. Forces herself down. Screams at her own pussy to take us.

It’s the tightest thing I’ve ever felt when her pussy gives up the fight. The head of my cock mashed against Jack’s as we pop inside.

“Steady,” I say, but she shakes her head.

“No fucking way.”

I’m insanely proud of the divine angel wedged between us. Our divine angel. Our Soul Girl. She grits her teeth and curses and groans, but she won’t give up the battle to take us both inside her.

Each thrust of her hips inches us deeper, swallowing us up in a blaze of glory.

We don’t move, just let her work herself into her own frenzy of need. In charge of her own straining pussy as she takes us inside her.

She’s panting hard by the time we’re all the way in. My balls are against Jack’s, the shaft of my cock crushed tight against his. And we’re both there. Where we belong.

“It fucking hurts.” Her giggle is hedonistic, laced with a strange kind of fatality.

“We can stop,” I say. “I can get some lube. Do something different.”

She shakes her head. Looks at me over her shoulder.

It breaks my heart to see her eyes welling up.

“That’s the last thing I want.”

I spread her ass cheeks, just to take a look, and she’s straining so bad, it’s ridiculous. A beautiful testament.

I’m relieved when Jack takes control from underneath, holding her tight as he guides her.

“That’s it,” he says. “Slowly, slowly.”

She does what she’s told. Tiny movements back and forth.

“It’ll feel good soon,” he says. “Just relax. Relax, sweetheart. Relax and let it happen.”

I have to tip my head back and close my eyes, it feels so good. Tiny motions, gripping so tight.

I rub my hands up and down her back, in a sweeping caress as she kisses the blond Adonis amongst her moans.

It builds with such a slow momentum that life itself feels like it’s been put on pause. The three of us sharing such a treasure of pleasure. A trinket box open wide, revealing its sacred treasure. That’s what she is.

A sacred treasure, filled with diamonds and bursts of colour. An artist sent from the heavens above. A conduit to creativity in every form.

I could never get enough of her. Not in a thousand lifetimes.

My hands grasp her hips. The idea of her being torn away is more than I can take. So I don’t embrace it. I don’t entertain it. I let the timeless momentum keep building, and the pleasure keep rising. Every second is a gift. One I’d never seen coming.