The Architect (Nashville Neighborhood Book 3) by Nikki Sloane (top e book reader .TXT) 📗

rocked as he climbed on and the sheet was pulled away, revealing he was as naked as the rest of us, and already half hard. At least, I thought he was. It was hard to focus because Clay was inside me, moving in slow, deep strokes.

The room was a thousand degrees and the needle kept rising. I was barely moving, but it felt like I was breathing in steam, struggling to catch my breath. My pulse was a furious drum, banging in my neck. The man behind me found a tempo he liked, and once it was established, moans played from my mouth.

But all this pleasure I was receiving? I didn’t have to keep it. I could share it.

I reached out, clasping Travis’s impressive cock and stroked him from tip to base. He groaned through his parted lips and moved closer. Clay had explained what he wanted to see, and Travis was more than willing to oblige.

It was easy to open my mouth and slip the head of Travis’s dick inside. It was a bit of a challenge to take more of him, but I did my best. I ringed my fingers around what I couldn’t take and pumped my fist in time with my lips. Only a few passes and he was slick with my saliva.

A heavy breath came from Clay, followed by a growl of satisfaction. “That’s it,” he said. “Get that cock good and hard so he’s ready to fuck you with it.”

It was impossible to organize my thoughts and my focus yo-yoed between the two men. One was pleasing me while I was intent on doing that to the other. I wondered if it could be the same as when I was holding their hands at the restaurant—only amplified a thousand percent. All the pleasure Clay was giving me could be translated through my body and carried on to Travis.

I pulsed my mouth on him, mimicking the same rhythm Clay used as he thrust into me. So, as Clay fucked me . . . in a way he was fucking Travis too.

My jaw began to tire, and I struggled to maintain the same tempo, but holy hell, Clay felt so good as he moved inside me. Plus, listening to Travis’s sighs and moans made the experience all that more enjoyable.

I wished I could see us in this moment, utterly connected and as one. Clay’s hips slapped against my ass as he held onto my waist, and I was bent over the bed while Travis knelt on it, his cock lodged in my mouth.

Perhaps Clay wished he could see too, because his hands were on my head, gathering my hair up in a loose ponytail. Or maybe he felt I needed direction, because there was purpose behind his fingers, guiding me to bob faster on Travis.

Spit slung from my lips. The head of his thick cock pushed deeper in my mouth, just past the point of comfort, and I retreated with a choking gag. I’d never found the sound sexy before. In fact, it was a turn-off for me . . . until Travis bent down, gripped my face, and delivered a rewarding kiss.

Clay’s hands stayed in my hair, so when the kiss ended, Travis rose upright and put his hands on top of the other man’s. They worked as a team to urge me back down, to fit my mouth around Travis and try again.

I did better the second time, mostly because I was distracted. Bliss was pooling in my belly from the rock of Clay’s body against mine. Could I come again so soon? And would he let me?

He gasped abruptly, pulling completely out of me at the same time he released my head, sliding his hands out from beneath Travis’s so he could drive his fingertips hard across my still-smarting backside. “You’re too fucking good, you know that? You’re going to make me come if I don’t stop.”

I wanted to sob at the loss of him, but as the sting of his slap lingered, Clay scooped me up and hauled me against him. His voice was as rough as his spanking had been, but darker and infinitely hotter.

“You want him?” he asked as I stared at the other man.

Clay’s face was right beside mine, and although I couldn’t really see him, I sensed his gaze was on Travis in the same way mine was. It took in the landscape of Travis’s beautiful body and the throbbing dick that was clenched in his hand. It followed the slow stroke of his fist and watched the tendons twist and flex in his powerful arm.

It was said so hushed, I couldn’t tell if it was an order or a plea from Clay. “Tell him you want him.”

Truer words had never been spoken, and I locked eyes with Travis’s intense ones. “I want you.”

Lightning crackled around us as he moved to lie down with his back against the pillows at the head of the bed. His sexy expression said it all. Come here.

But Clay kept hold of me with an arm around my chest, preventing that, and flung a finger at the man stretched out before us. “Get on him but face me. I want to play with you while you’re fucking him.”

It injected more heat into me, and I was burning alive. Even the marrow of my bones seemed to be on fire, and lust made me clumsy, so when he released me, it was awkward trying to climb up over the end of the bed. Somehow, I managed. I crawled on my hands and knees across the rumpled sheets toward Travis.

He sat up, meeting me halfway, and kissed me. Maybe he wanted to get it in now, because he wouldn’t be able to once I turned around and climbed on top of him.

I handled mounting him with as much grace as possible, and he shifted beneath my straddling legs to help line us up. Clay was on his feet at the end of the bed, watching and waiting, his gaze pinned to