Misadventures of a Curvy Girl (Misadventures #18)(38)

Well, it makes me feel something I’ve never really felt before. Optimistic and confident and happy and…

Loved.

As if to shore up Caleb’s sweet words, Ben kisses my shoulder from behind me and then brushes his lips over the shell of my ear.

“I feel the same way, Ireland. You’re ours.”

Theirs.

“Yes,” I say almost dizzily. “I feel it. I’m yours.”

What else can be said after that? Caleb reaches down between my legs to test my readiness and groans at what he finds. With a big callused hand, he pulls my knee up to his hip, and then I feel the broad head of his penis probing slick and latex-covered at my seam.

“Shit,” he mumbles as he works the tip of his dick inside me. “Shit, Ireland, you feel so good.”

I squirm on the end of his cock, trying to feed more into my body, and he gives a breathless laugh. “I got you, peach, hold on. Trust me to give you what you need.”

“Want it now,” I growl, and he laughs some more.

“Ben, how long did you tease her for?”

“Not very long,” is the amused answer. “But you remember how responsive she is.”

Caleb’s eyes light back on my face, and his laughing mouth pulls into a wicked smile. “I do remember.” And with a thrust of his muscled ass, he plows all the way home.

My fingernails dig into his shoulders as my sex stretches and ripples around him, and he gives me three deep and grinding strokes in return, the pressure of his thickness inside me and the gorgeous friction against my clit sending me over the edge. The tension inside my body shatters into a mosaic of delicious sensation—seizing waves low in my belly, flutters of pure pleasure radiating from my clit, tingles of electricity shooting down to the pads of my fingers and the bottoms of my toes.

“Fuck,” Caleb groans, his head dropping back. “She’s coming already. I can feel it. Fuck.”

Ben bites me on the shoulder with a pleased rumble. “Good. Come hard for Caleb, baby. Get all nice and tight for us.”

His dirty words spur me on, and my head is tossing on the bed as I ride out my climax on his glorious organ. Caleb is gritting his teeth in order to keep from following me, and then we both let out agonized gasps as Ben’s slick finger finds my pleated entrance once again and pushes inside.

“Oh God,” I pant, my orgasm surging hard again from the extra stimulation. “Oh God, oh God.”

“You better hurry,” Caleb grinds out. “I’m not going to last much longer.”

“Then how are you going to last when it’s my cock pushing inside her?” Ben asks.

Caleb shivers at his words, biting off a curse as he no doubt imagines how it will feel, how tight I’ll get with another huge shaft wedged inside me.

My orgasm finally subsides, leaving me limp and quivering, and Ben adds a second finger. “Push against my touch,” he advises as I tense up. “It’ll open you more to me. Good girl, that’s it. Do you feel dirty with my fingers in your ass? Do you feel sexy?”

I give it a couple of breaths, adjusting slowly to the foreign feeling. It does feel dirty, it does feel sexy, especially when I see Caleb gazing at me with an expression bordering on awestruck as he slowly glides his girth in and out of me in time to Ben’s pumping fingers. Especially when I look up at Ben and see a man who’s about to tear the bed apart with his teeth if he isn’t inside my body right this minute.

“I’m ready,” I murmur up to him, turning as much as I can to look at the irresistible man kneeling behind me. “I’m ready for you.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, and I can see the toll it takes on him to proceed with care. To delay. His shoulders are shaking, the muscles of his belly are clenched so tightly that every band and slab is etched in high relief and glistening with sweat. His cock is dark and distended. A large vein traces up the side, and the slit at his crown is wet and shining with pre-come. “I’ll be careful with you, Ireland, I swear to God.”

“I know,” I say, giving him a sated smile. I’m still dizzy with all the hormones from my last climax. “And I’m sure.”

He drops another kiss on my shoulder and then reaches for a condom, tearing the packet open with his teeth and sheathing himself in a quick, practiced movement. There’s the click of a bottle cap, and then Caleb and I are treated to the sight of Ben spreading lube down the length of his rigid erection. Through the glisten of the latex and lubricant, I can still see all the veins and the plump crown in perfect detail, and my body craves it, longs for it, even though I have one hot erection already lodged inside my body.

“Same as before,” Ben says, tossing the closed lube bottle to the side of the bed. “It’s just like my fingers.”

“He’s lying,” Caleb says, his dimple peeking out from under his beard.

“Okay, I’m lying a little,” Ben amends. “It’s just like my fingers…if my fingers were much, much bigger.”

He lies down so the muscled length of his body stretches out behind mine. I feel another flash of bashful unease—there’s something about having his firm chest and abs and thighs pressed against the soft gradients and creases of my back and bottom that brings up my worst feelings about my body. Between Caleb at my front and Ben at my back, there’s no angle I can twist myself to try to make my waist look smaller, no hiding the crease between my stomach and my hip, no attempting to make my FUPA look smoother. There’s no hiding the dimples in my bottom and thighs. I’m completely exposed, naked and squeezed between two men who could be on the cover of a magazine.