I handle that business.

Thank God.

She’s pried off of me by two sets of hands and as badly as I’d like to cuddle her up and kiss every inch of her body and talk about going on vacations and meeting each other’s parents, I won’t prevent our woman from finding even more pleasure.

The most pleasure.

And I never will.

Tobias

A lot of the sex I’ve had throughout my life was choreographed. Designed specifically to appeal to a viewer through lighting, body positioning and camera angles and acting. Yet somehow the four of us move like we’ve practiced this dance a thousand times. We’re masters. It’s seamless. And it’s all because of Elise. She isn’t thinking now, it’s easy to see that by looking into her eyes. She’s gone to some land where all that exists is gratification. That’s right where we want her.

She’s like a prima ballerina in the middle of a glorious lift, being passed in my hands from Gabe to Banks, her delicious body covered in a fine sheen of sweat. I haven’t said a word to Banks about how we’ll accomplish making love to her at the same time. Somehow, it’s just understood. Somehow, we already know because the choreography is coming from our hearts, not just our heads or our junk. It’s the sexual version of a shared psychosis. We’re reading each other’s minds and all of our minds are one hundred percent attuned to her. To each other.

I’m fucking shaken by it.

Banks receives a still-gasping Elise in his arms and turns her around to face me, holding her arms behind her back, his tongue licking up the side of her neck. I’ve never seen anyone in her state. Thighs spasming, breath racing, body aroused and straining. And not attempting to control or hide any of it from us. She’s magnificent.

“Is her pussy still wet?” I lay down on my back in front of her, rip open one of the condom packets and apply the latex while she watches, her pupils expanding, those nipples so tight I know she’s in need of another climax. One isn’t enough for this woman. I’d say she’s a three-man job, but she’s not a job at all. She’s a privilege. “Or does she need to wiggle around on my face for a while?”

Elise squeezes her spasming thighs together and moans.

Banks snakes a hand around her right hip and murmurs in her ear until she loosens the flex of her legs, then he slides two fingers into the shiny split of her sex and growls. “Still wet as fuck.” He fists her hair and guides her down on top of me. She goes even more eagerly when Banks slaps her ass. Once, twice. “Still eager.”

“A miracle,” I groan.

“Goddamn right she is,” Banks agrees, shaking his head in reverence.

And then I’m in the coveted position of kissing Elise.

I wasn’t lying. She tastes like the sun. Hope and light and redemption.