Page 45 of The Jaded Notes

And I’ve never been more seen in the dark. The blackness in me somehow lifts, and I’m lighter inside.

Their mouths follow the same rhythm. Slow at first, patient, mapping my skin like it’s an atlas of lost lands.

One traces the underside of my breasts with his tongue, drawing lazy circles that pull a sigh from my throat. The other spreads my knees apart, kisses his way down the inside of my thigh, and then pauses. Waiting.

Waiting for the word and the permission.

“Don’t stop,” I whisper.

And they don’t.

I’m not sure how long it lasts. Time doesn’t pass in this place; it melts.

Their hands roam like sculptures. Their mouths undo mepiece by piece without ever asking me to break.

They worship not just my body but the ache beneath it. The guilt of being alive. The shame of not being worthy. The hollowed-out need to feel invisible and adored all the same.

They carry me to a bed covered in silk sheets. They switch places and trade angles.

One enters me with fingers slick and skilled, curling inside just right, just deep enough to make my thighs tense. I moan in ecstasy.

The other licks slow up the seam of my body until I cry out from the shock of being touched exactly how I need. They know precisely what to do.

They position me to receive without pressure. And when I arch, they bend. When I tremble, they anchor.

They don’t speak to each other and don’t need to.

They’ve done this before.

But they’ve never done it with me.

As I lay there trying to catch my breath, one of them traces a line down my stomach with his fingertip, sending shivers across my skin.

The other moves to kneel between my legs, his hands gripping my thighs as he spreads them wider. The heat of his body penetrates the promise of what’s to come.

“Are you ready for more, beautiful?” His voice is a low rumble that vibrates through me.

“Yes, but make sure you’re using condoms.” A soft groan escapes my lips as I offer myself to him.

“Your boundaries are clear. We both have plenty to go a few rounds if that’s what you choose.” He doesn’t need any more encouragement.

He enters me slowly, filling me. “Damn, you’re so fucking tight.”

I gasp at the sensation.

The other man leans over me, his lips finding mine in adeep, passionate kiss that matches the rhythm of the man I’m fucking.

“You feel incredible.” The guy inside me grunts, then he grabs my hips and fucks me harder.

“Yes, just like that.” I rock in sync with him.

The room fills with our pleasure, moans, gasps, and the wet slap of flesh against flesh. They move in perfect sync, one thrusting into me while the other explores my body with his hands and mouth.

Fingers tease my nipples, rolling them between skilled fingertips until they harden into tight peaks. A tongue traces patterns on my neck, my collarbone, my breasts, driving me wild with want.

The pressure builds inside me, the increase of pleasure tightening with each stroke. The man between my legs increases his pace, and he grinds against me, rubbing my clit.

“I’m coming!” I cry out as my orgasm crashes over me.