Chapter 22

King

Seeing Krista like this does something to me. I’m hard—of course I’m fucking hard—but it’s not just arousal.

I’ve gotten used to being too fucking horny to handle myself when I’m around this girl, her flawless skin and her sultry, pouty lips. It’s a near-constant state of being now, especially as I’m spending more and more time in the presence of those pretty, perky nipples and her heart-shaped ass.

I want her. I’ll always fucking want her.

But it’s not just that.

Seeing her undress for me—seeing her take off her clothes like she’s putting herself on display for my eyes and my eyes alone—it makes something dark and primal and brutal bubble up in my chest.

I feel it seep into my veins, into my blood—this ancient urge embedded in my fucking DNA telling me to take and own and conquer.

And never mind that rationally, I know that there are two other men in the room—two men that I trust and respect and would give my life for any other day of the week.

Rationally, I’m not some fucking caveman who needs to take and claim and conquer a beautiful woman just because I want to stick my dick in her either.

I’m an educated man. Even among other men, rationally I’ve got more brains than most.

I should have more self-control as a result.

But this isn’t fucking rational, the things that Krista makes me feel as she undresses for us. We just sit and watch her do it for a moment, taking in the smooth, milky expanses of her thighs and the way her waist flares out to broad, perfect hips in the cabin’s soft golden light.

She’s presenting herself to us like a fucking prize.

A prize to be shared.

But right now, I don’t want to fucking share.

I want to take.

To own.

To make her mine and mine alone.

I move to her first. Early bird catches the worm, after all—and all I can think about is worming my tongue between her perfect pink pussy lips before anyone else can have her.

I take her by her waist, and we fall back onto a plush leather armchair. I watch the shining white crescents of her French tips dig into the chair’s arms as I take her knees and part them forcefully.

“Mine,” I tell her, just before I sink my teeth into the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

“Oh!” Krista gasps softly.

I can smell her from here—her cunt, her wetness, her heat.

She fucking wants it. She wants me.

Simon and Dylan can get in line, as far as I’m concerned.

If I let them, that is.

If I don’t just take her and keep her all for myself.

I plunge my mouth between her thighs and claim her pussy with my kiss. She moans when I do that, too—and I hope Simon and Dylan are hearing it.

Rationally, it should bother me—the idea of taking this woman that all three of us want so fucking bad.

But right now, it doesn’t.

I’m not being rational.

I’m taking what I want and making it mine.

Krista’s love juices leave her cunt slippery and sweet beneath my lips and tongue. I suck her clit until she starts to whimper. Then, I hook my hands beneath her thighs and pull her harder against my face.

More. I need more of this woman—now.

But as I lick Krista’s sweet, candy-pink slit, I feel Simon and Dylan move behind me. Their belts are unclasped, and their zippers are open, while my cock is still trapped, straining against my jeans.

It just makes me go down on her all the more. They can get their dicks out and stroke themselves to her if they want—but right now, this pussy is mine.

I start laying long, hard licks against Krista’s clit. She’s bucking her hips against me now—even as Simon and Dylan come up to either side of her with their cocks at the ready.

I glance up at her as she moans louder than ever, reaching for each of them with a desperate need.

The primal darkness in my veins fucking aches at that. It’s my fucking cock she should be reaching for right now—my mouth that’s giving her pleasure and my fucking body that’s going to take her and mark her as my own.

But despite that dark, possessive feeling, I can still feel my heart pumping more hot blood to my cock with every passing moment. Krista gets even wetter against my tongue, which I didn’t think was possible. Her cream is smeared across my fucking lips now and dripping down from her slit all the way to her ass.

I scoop it up with my fingers and use it as lube, pressing my thumb against the tight pucker of her asshole and forcing my way in as I suck on her clit harder than ever.

“Oh...OH!” Krista gasps as I enter her with my thumb, making her clit throb in orgasm against my tongue all at once.

Her body shudders. Her pussy clenches. Krista’s mouth falls open into the softest, sweetest ‘O’ as she grabs onto Simon and Dylan’s cocks, one in each hand, like she has to hold onto something or else she’ll fall apart completely.

“Good girl, Krista,” Simon says as he strokes her hair.

“Very good girl,” Dylan agrees.

He dips down to meet her lips with his, and I wait expectantly for that possessive darkness to rear its ugly head.

But as she kisses Dylan, then Simon...

She looks so fucking happy.

Completely blissed out.

Like the entire world rests not just on my shoulders...

But on all three of us.

With her wrapped up in our arms.

“King,” she breathes, and I rise to her.

I claim my kiss last, slipping my tongue between her hot, demanding lips so she can taste how fucking wet I made her with my mouth.

No—how wet we made her.

I don’t want to fucking share this girl—that’s true for now.

But seeing her with Simon and Dylan—seeing her so fucking happy, so satiated, so at ease like that...

It’s the sexiest thing in the entire fucking world.

I tug my shirt off and unclasp my belt, stepping back to the couch behind me.

I can’t take my fucking eyes off her...and I know that the night is far from over.