Sunday Snog

Welcome to Sunday Snog, this week a smooch from my new menage a trois novel DESK JOB.

The door shut and I found my backside up against the hallway table where I kept keys and mail. Several letters and a spare set of keys fell to the floor.

“Tristan?”

He was roaming his hands over my hips. His kisses landed on my cheek, my ear and my neck.

“Do you have any objections if I fuck you right here, like this, right now?” His breath was hot in my ear.

“Er...” Did I? “No.”

“Thank fuck for that.” He found my mouth and kissed me wildly.

I gripped his top and yanked it from his jeans. I then pulled it over his head, exposing his hair-coated chest and lean abdomen and making him break the kiss.

As I took a moment to admire his torso, he worked at my trousers, undoing the buttons.

He stepped back to yank my trousers and knickers off.

Andre was behind him, his lips parted and his eyes wide as he stared at me sitting butt naked on the table with Tristan maneuvering my Capri pants over my feet. He had a bulge behind his zipper, and I guessed he was enjoying the view.

Fuck, is he going to watch?

Tristan was back over me, his face inches from mine and his dark eyes focused. “You’re so beautiful. I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you are.”

I cupped his jaw and parted my legs as he stepped between them. He was beautiful too.

“Are you wet for me?” he asked, sliding his hand up my inner thigh.

“Yes.”

“Have you been wet for me this week? Did you think of us together?”

I hesitated, then, “Yes.”

The left side of his mouth twitched into a half smile as he eased his fingers through the folds of my pussy. “Oh yeah, you’re wet. We’re so ready for this.”

I fluttered my eyes shut and let my head fall back.

He caught my crown in his palm and pressed his cheek to mine. “I’m going to make you come so hard. So fucking hard.”

“Yes.”

“And Andre is going to watch, then he’s going to make you come really fucking hard too.”

“Ahh...” I gasped as he pushed two, maybe three fingers into me. “Yes.”

“Can you handle us?”

“Yes.” I squirmed onto his fingers. “Yes, fuck me.”

He pulled out.

I moaned at the loss and opened my eyes. “Tristan.”

He undid his trousers and shoved them and his boxers to his thighs. His cock sprang forward. The shaft was dark and thick, the end shiny and red. The hair on his belly became denser as it met his pubic hair.

“Condom,” he muttered.

“Here.” Andre passed him one then stayed standing close to us.

Quickly, Tristan tore at the wrapper then unrolled the latex down his cock. His hands were shaking slightly, his movements fast and efficient. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “I can’t remember ever being so desperate to bury deep.”

Andre pushed a lock of hair behind my ear. His gaze caught mine.

I was breathing fast, the need to feel Tristan inside me had created a tremor over my skin. I gave Andre a quick nod, to let him know I was okay with what was happening.

He stepped away.

“Like this,” Tristan said, scooping one hand beneath my ass and placing the other on my lower back. “Wrap your legs around me.”

I was already doing that but hooked my ankles together and angled my entrance toward his cock.

The smooth dome of his glans pushed forward, and he eased in.

I held my breath and stared into his eyes as he penetrated me. On and on he went, taking more, filling me.

The stretch was exquisite, and he was so damn hard.

“Ah, yeah, you’re so tight,” he said breathlessly. “You’re hugging my cock.”

“More.” I tightened my thighs around his waist.

He gave it. A sudden fast shunt to full depth as he pulled me onto him.

The table banged against the wall. His body bumped into my clit.

I gripped his shoulders and gasped.

“You want it fast?” he asked against my lips.

“Yes. Yes.”

“Thank God for that.”

He pulled almost out then steamed in again. The table knocked the wall once more but I didn’t care. Tristan inside me, over me, rubbing up against me, was all I could think of.

He repeated the action again and again. Fucking me with wild passion and energy.

My pussy heated, my clit strained for more. His cock was working me inside and creating a pressure I knew would soon overspill.

The table was deafening as it hit the wall each time he plunged to full depth.

I dug my fingernails into his shoulders.

He scraped his stubble over my cheek and rested his mouth by my ear.

His rapid breaths were loud. I shut my eyes and became lost in him, lost in the sensation he’d built in me.

“Fuck, I’m coming...” he moaned.

“Yes ... come...”

He upped the already frantic tempo and toppled me into ecstasy.

I cried out as bliss swept over my body, bursting from my clit and spreading over all my nerves.

He groaned, long and abandoned and seated himself deep, holding me tight against him.

I was aware of his cock pulsing as my internal muscles contracted around his shaft.

“Fuck ... so damn ... good,” he said into my ear. “Fuck.” I opened my eyes, my orgasm still thumping through me. Andre was watching us, though now he’d removed his top, revealing his gorgeous chest. His jeans were also undone and his right hand was down the front of them.

Grab your copy of Desk Job from Amazon, Amazon UK and Evernight Publishing as well as from all other good ebook retailers. And if you missed Muscling In, my other London Menage novel, grab that too! And don't forget to check out the other Sunday Snogs!