What He Left Behind(77)

Ian meets my gaze, eyebrows up. Well?

“I want to f*ck you, Michael.” Enunciate. I can do this. “While you suck Ian off.”

Beside me, Ian shivers. “Yes, please.”

Michael’s grin almost melts my bones. “Hell yeah.”

Without hesitation, we change positions. Ian reclines against the pillows, and Michael gets on his hands and knees while I turn away to get some lube. I’ve barely started putting it on when a throaty groan from Ian turns my head. Good God. There’s the Michael I knew before—sucking cock, moaning with pleasure.

I can barely think about anything except watching the two of them. Even lubing up my own dick is too complicated when Michael’s going to town on Ian and Ian’s trying to watch him but has to keep blinking as if his eyes are already watering.

“Fuck ’im,” Ian moans. “I want…I want to see that before…” His eyelids slide closed. “Fuck.”

I can sure as hell move now. Lubed and ready, I kneel behind Michael and put some lube on him. Then I press against him. In the back of my mind, I’m irrationally sure this will be the moment when Michael panics, that he’s going to suddenly tense up and return to that bad place.

But he doesn’t. Moaning around Ian’s cock, Michael pushes back, and I can barely breathe as my dick sinks into him.

The view is spectacular—my cock sliding in and out of Michael. His gorgeous, lean torso. His head bobbing up and down above Ian. Ian lying back and going out of his f*cking mind. Everything about this is perfect. And hot. So ridiculously hot.

“Oh my God…” Ian arches, squeezing his eyes shut. “That’s so good. Holy shit.”

Michael groans. He rocks back and forth, riding my dick faster, and Ian curses under his breath. He’s gripping Michael’s hair, staring down at him, his lips apart and his forehead creased, and I f*ck Michael a little harder so he’ll give Ian even more.

“I’m gonna come,” Ian slurs. “I’m gonna…I’m gonna…”

Much more of this, and I will too. I grit my teeth and hold Michael’s hips tighter, f*cking him for all I’m worth while he drives Ian insane.

“Oh…shit…” Ian’s head falls back. “So f*cking good.” He gasps. His eyes fly open, and Michael tenses around me as he bobs his head even faster.

I struggle to keep my eyes focused, but my own orgasm is closing in fast, so I grit my teeth as I pound Michael’s ass for all I’m worth. He groans, and he shudders, and apparently that’s more than Ian can take—he squeezes his eyes shut again, curses and trembles as his back arches. I don’t know how he doesn’t take me over the edge with him—God, I love the sight of Ian falling to pieces—but somehow, I keep going, and I keep f*cking Michael.

Ian takes a few seconds to catch his breath. Not long, though—he’s barely wiped the sweat from his brow before he shifts around, grabs the back of Michael’s neck and kisses him. He reaches beneath Michael, and I don’t have to see to know he’s stroking Michael’s cock. The way Michael clenches around me tells me everything I need to know. And besides, f*ck, f*ck—watching those two make out is hot enough. Knowing Michael has Ian’s semen on his tongue? Knowing how Ian kisses right after he’s had an orgasm?

That’s it. I can’t take another second.

With a roar, I slam into Michael, and I come so hard, I very nearly black for real out this time. And just as I’m coming down, Michael cries out, and he gets almost painfully tight as I take a few last thrusts before my body can’t handle anymore.

I stop. Michael stops. Ian’s arm stops moving. They’re not kissing anymore—Michael presses his forehead to Ian’s shoulder, and Ian holds him, stroking his hair. Our eyes meet. We both grin, and when Ian presses a soft kiss to Michael’s damp red hair, my skin prickles with goose bumps.

I pull out carefully. None of us are all that steady on our feet, which is to be expected, but we manage as always. When we finally settle into bed, Ian and I are both on our sides, facing Michael, who’s between us.

Michael exhales. “You guys are seriously unreal.”

Ian grins. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know.”

Michael sweeps his tongue across his lips and looks at us. “I don’t just mean in bed. I mean…” He reaches across me and takes Ian’s hand. “Letting me in like this.”

I put my hand on top of theirs on my stomach. “This isn’t something we’d do with just anyone. It took someone pretty amazing to make life better with three people instead of two.”

Ian nods. “That’s not to say the end justifies the means. What happened to you never should have happened. But—”

“But this is one hell of a silver lining,” Michael says. “If that’s how things were going to work out, then I’m just glad they eventually brought me here.”

Right then, Rosie leaps onto the bed, stomps over Ian and me and flops down on top of Michael.

“Seriously, cat?” Ian rolls his eyes. “We feed you, we house you, but no, you want him.”

Michael laughs, tousling Rosie’s fur, which would have gotten me or even Ian a claws-out swat. “I see how it is. You guys just want me here because I’m the only one your cat doesn’t hate.”