“Anything hurts, you tell me to stop,” he said, command in his voice.
“I promise.”
“Stay still for a second then,” he said, shifting behind her.
She glanced up, the angle of the mirror affording her part of a view of Colby behind her. He hadn’t taken his clothes off, but his fly was undone and he was pouring lube into his hand. He rubbed it over his cock until it was shiny and glistening. She was mesmerized by the sight of it.
Then he was getting into position behind her. He pushed fingers into her again, separating them inside her and opening her, preparing her. Keats was trembling beneath her. She imagined it was taking a lot of work on his part to stay so still. He had to be close to coming, too. But the look on his face was pure rapture. He was being denied, but he was into this one hundred percent.
Colby’s fingers slipped out of her and something much bigger nudged her backside. A bolt of panic moved through her. He felt impossibly big. Maybe she’d misjudged what she could take.
“Colby, I—”
“It’s okay,” he said, squeezing her hip. “You can take me. You just have to relax and let me in. I’ll go slow.”
Her gaze went to Keats and he smiled softly. “We’ve got you, George. He’s going to make you feel good. Trust him.”
“Says you who hasn’t done this yet.”
He laughed. “Show me how it’s done, then. I’ll take notes.”
For some reason, that eased her tension. She gave a little nod and put all her concentration on loosening her muscles and relaxing. She shifted back a bit and the head of Colby’s cock breached her.
The burning sensation was intense and she lost her breath for a second—regretting everything in that instant, but he kept moving forward and once the thick head moved past the ring of muscle, the rest slid forward more easily. An overwhelming flood of sharp need moved through her.
Colby made a deep, rumbly sound behind her. “God, baby, you feel amazing. You okay?”
“I’m good. I just—” She felt impossibly full and didn’t dare move. She might never be able to move again.
“Just hold on. You don’t have to do anything else but feel from this point on,” Colby said, easing more of himself inside her. “You can come whenever you need to.”
Thank God for that because she felt on the verge of exploding already.
The two guys must’ve talked about this at some point because somehow, they knew how to move one at a time in a kind of rhythm. It was slow and steady and impossibly sensual as they rocked into her in turn, stimulating every inch of her flesh along the way. The vibrator buzzed steadily against her, and with each move from Colby, her nipples rubbed along the rope on Keats’s chest.
Then Keats was lifting his head to kiss her, parting her lips and pouring all the passion that must be rumbling through him into it—frantic, hungry, a little crazed. She felt dizzy with the power of it all. She was going to lose it. Colby’s hands gripped her hips hard, his cock sinking even deeper, and there were so many sensations at once that it felt like there were a hundred hands on her, a crowd of men taking her.
Everything detonated inside her. Her nails dug into Keats’s shoulders, earning a lust-filled grunt from him as he pulled away from the kiss, and her back arched. Both men buried fully inside her, their cocks pressing against each other through the thin wall in her body, and she thought she would die from the feel of being so fully taken.
“I can’t—” she panted.
Colby must’ve used that as his cue to hit the button on the remote for the vibrator. Because the soft purr turned into an urgent buzz and she cried out. The moorings broke free. She shook with the force of the orgasm as it overtook her, and the noises she made stopped sounding human.
Colby and Keats started moving again and all she could do was hold on for the gasping, shrieking ride. Soon, Colby’s grip turned bruising and he groaned behind her, his own release sending him over the precipice.
Keats, ever patient, pressed his teeth against Georgia’s shoulder, biting hard enough to sting but not enough to break the skin until it was clear Colby was coming. Then Keats let loose, too, bucking beneath her and calling her name as he thrust upward, his arms yanking at his bindings.
It was all so much. Too much probably. But when her gaze caught their reflection in the mirror, all of them lost to passion, she had a feeling that for her . . . it was just right.
These two men were right.
Too bad she couldn’t keep them.
THIRTY-FIVE
Colby shifted in the chair in Principal Anders’s office, dread sitting heavy in his stomach. She’d called him in for a last-minute meeting, and after the interviews he’d been through last week, he didn’t have a lot of hope. Keats’s father had apparently painted quite the picture of an irresponsible, devious Colby Wilkes, and the board had treated Colby in a way that let him know they were giving Alan Keats’s claims some credence. They’d even asked him if he thought his “homosexual status” made the male students reluctant to open up to him. He’d wanted to break things.
And walking through the busy hallways to get here this afternoon, seeing the kids stream past him, some waving and happy to see him—it had physically hurt. These few weeks away felt like years. He’d enjoyed spending his off time with Georgia and Keats, but he missed his job more than he could say.