Sarah had collapsed into the bed after her kiss with Marisol.
“You broke her,” she whispered, kissing Bharath’s shoulder.
“No,” he murmured, holding Sarah like the most precious thing in the world. “I freed her.”
Sarah lay utterly still in Bharath’s arms, her body limp from the storm that had just ravaged her. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, shaky breaths, her face flushed, her lashes wet. But even in her exhaustion, she wore a smile - dreamy, dazed, a woman undone by love and power and safety all at once.
Bharath kissed her temple gently, brushing a few strands of hair away from her damp forehead. “She’s out,” he whispered, almost in awe.
Marisol, still curled around his side, reached up and stroked his jaw, her eyes dark with heat and a wicked grin playing on her lips. “And you, mi amor,” she said, voice sultry and low, “are not.”
“Watching you suck my cum out of her and feed it back to her got hard again. That is one of the hottest things I have ever seen in my life!”
“I will do anything for you mi amor. This is just a taste of what we will be doing all our whole lives.”
He looked at her - flushed, breathing hard, his length still thick and slick with need - and she saw the tension running through his fra like a bowstring pulled taut.
Marisol climbed up onto her knees beside him, her fingers gliding across his chest. “Let take care of you now,” she murmured.
She leaned in and kissed him - slow and deep, tasting both Sarah and him, moaning softly into his mouth. Then she guided his hand to her waist and straddled him slowly, rolling her hips with practiced grace. She was wet - impossibly so - from watching everything, from feeling his dominance, from sharing in Sarah’s release.
Bharath’s hands gripped her hips instinctively. “You sure?”
She smiled down at him, eyes gleaming. “I’m yours, aren’t I?”
Without another word, she sank down onto him.
Marisol rolled her hips once, twice and then stopped. She ground down hard enough to make him groan. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she leaned in, voice dropping to a filthy whisper. “But I don’t want gentle right now, mi amor. I want you to wreck . Use like your dirty little slut. Pull my hair, slap my ass, fuck so hard I scream your na until my throat’s raw. I need it rough. I need you to own .”
Bharath’s eyes darkened, hands tightening on her hips. “You sure, chellam? You want to take you like that. With Sarah right here, watching you get ruined?”
Marisol shivered, nodding frantically. “Yes. God, yes. Show her how you ravish . Show her what she’s in for from now on. Fuck like the filthy whore I am for you.”
Bharath let out a breathless groan as he filled her, his head falling back against the pillows. Marisol gasped at the fullness, her body already attuned to him, her muscles welcoming him in like a hocoming.
She didn’t wait for permission. Marisol slamd down onto him - hard, fast, taking every inch in one brutal drop. Bharath growled, hands flying to her hair, yanking her head back so her throat arched.
“That’s it,” he snarled, voice low and dangerous. “Ride like you’re desperate for it. Milk my cock, my little slut.”
Marisol moaned, loud and shaless, hips snapping in a punishing rhythm. “Harder, papi… fuck harder! Pull my hair until it hurts. Spank . Mark . I want bruises from your hands tomorrow.”
He obliged, his palm cracking against her ass once, twice, the sound sharp in the quiet room. Each slap made her clench around him, dripping down his shaft.
“From now on,” she gasped between thrusts, “you use us whenever you want. Wake Sarah up with your cock down her throat. Bend over the kitchen counter while she watches. Fill us both. Fuck us, mark us, make us drip with your cum all day. We’re your filthy little sluts, Bharath. Your holes. Your toys. Say it.”
Bharath thrust up hard, burying himself to the hilt, holding her down. “You’re mine. Both of you. My dirty girls. I’ll fuck you raw whenever I want. Sarah on her knees begging, you bent over taking it rough. You’ll both be so full of you can’t walk straight.”
Bharath was close - she could feel it. He was holding back only by sheer will.
Marisol leaned forward, her hands framing his face, whispering, “Let go, baby. Finish in . I want it.”
He gritted his teeth, his fingers digging into her waist. “Mari…”
“I want to feel all of it,” she purred, grinding harder now, kissing his throat, his chest, panting against his skin. “You gave her everything. Now give this. Give you.”
Bharath flipped her suddenly, pinning Marisol face-down on the bed beside sleeping Sarah, one hand fisting her hair, the other gripping her hip. He slamd back in deep, relentless, the bed creaking under the force.
“Take it,” he growled. “Take every fucking inch. You love being used like this, don’t you? My perfect little cumslut.”
Marisol pushed back into him, moaning into the pillow. “Yes… fuck yes! Ruin , papi. Pound until I can’t think. Then do the sa to Sarah when she wakes up. Make her scream while I lick her clean after. We’ll share every drop. We’ll be your nasty little family.”
His pace turned brutal - skin slapping, her ass reddening from his grip and occasional smacks. She ca first, shaking, sobbing his na, walls pulsing around him.
“Fill ,” she begged. “Fuck deep. Mark inside. Make yours forever.”
That was all it took.
Bharath roared low in his throat, slamming ho one last ti. He ca hard: pulsing, flooding her with heat, holding her pinned as he emptied every drop.
They collapsed together, panting, sweat-slicked, hearts hamring.
Marisol moaned softly as she felt him pulse inside her, her head dropping to his shoulder, her body flushed and shaking from the intensity of it all.
They stayed like that for a long mont - still connected, bodies trembling, hearts racing.
Then she slowly lifted off him, wincing a little as she settled beside him. Bharath lay back, spent, dazed, his chest rising in ragged breaths. Sarah still lay nestled to one side, limp and soft in sleep.
Marisol smiled and gently pulled the sheet over all three of them.
She kissed Bharath once on the forehead. “Now,” she whispered, curling up on his other side, “spoon her.”
He blinked. “What?”
“You always spoon ,” she said, brushing his hair back. “Let her have it. I want her to feel that warmth. That safety. That perfect little feeling of waking up with you holding her.”
Bharath looked at her for a mont, eyes full of love, then turned to Sarah and gently shifted into place behind her.
He pulled her into his chest, spooning her carefully, his arm draped over her waist, palm resting just under her breast.
Sarah murmured sothing unintelligible in her sleep - but nuzzled into him instinctively, her smile deepening.
Marisol smiled at the sight, then curled up behind Bharath, pressing her chest to his back, her arm wrapping around his waist, her legs wrapped around him grinding herself against him from behind.
Their bodies fit together perfectly.
A trio of breath, sweat, and contentnt.
“Perfect,” she whispered into his shoulder.
Reviews
All reviews (0)