Spit leaked from the corners of my mouth, ran down my chin in warm strings, dripped onto my breasts. The carpet under my knees was rough, grounding me even as my head spun.

They traded me back and forth like that—slow, deliberate, filthy. One in my mouth while I stroked the other, then switch. Damien’s cock hit the back of my throat on every pass; Elliot’s filled my mouth differently, longer, making me tilt my head to take him all. Their kisses continued above me—messy, hungry, tongues clashing while hands roamed my hair, my shoulders, my breasts. Damien pinched my nipple hard enough to make me whimper around whichever cock...