Ruin Me by Cara McKenna

each other so well, he’s better than I am at getting me off. I can feel him too, his hard cock pressed to my butt. The heat builds like a drug, changing everything. The room grows warm, as hot as the two male bodies against mine. Jay’s hand slips inside my panties, multiplying the pleasure threefold.
    He makes a happy noise behind my ear. “She’s already wet.”
    I hear Patrick suck in a breath through his nose. His tongue plunges deeper, sweeping against mine, making my hand tighten around his cock. His mouth leaves mine to whisper, “I want you so much.”
    Jay takes his hand away. “Go sit on that chair, Whelan.”
    Patrick gets up, walks obediently to the chair by the dresser and waits.
    “Sit on the edge of the bed,” Jay tells me.
    I do.
    He sits behind me, both of us facing Patrick. “Spread your legs,” he orders.
    I do.
    His hands stroke up and down my thighs, slow and rough, his short-nailed fingers curled into harmless claws. I gasp as his hand comes back to my center, stroking my lips through the silk. Patrick and I share a private, awkward dance, both our pairs of eyes meeting then moving to each other’s crotches, meeting again, fleeing again. Beneath the pleasure Jay’s giving me there’s a wide river of wrong running through this. Not just societal wrong, but intuitive, this-ain’t-right wrong. Part of me wants to tell Jay to stop, but it’s vetoed by the bossier parts that are throbbing against his fingers.
    “Take these off,” he says, thumbs tugging at my waistband. I stand for a second and push my panties to the floor. I sit and Jay’s fingers resume their touch. Five feet in front of me, Patrick’s nostrils flare. His lips part when Jay slides two fingers inside me and the flush in his skin is ten times hotter than the penetration.
    “Take it out,” Jay says to Patrick. “Let her see.”
    As always, Patrick pauses before he acts but he eventually obeys, opening his belt and his fly and pushing down his shorts. He wraps a hand around his erection.
    “He’s big,” Jay whispers, right in my ear. “Is that what you fantasize about?”
    I nod, feeling intoxicated by the guilt of the lie. As I told Patrick, my attraction is to him, not his body.
    “Did you suck him yet?”
    I nod again. Patrick’s hand starts moving up and down his length.
    “You make him come?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Did you swallow?” Jay asks.
    Patrick breaks his silence to speak for me. “Yeah, she swallowed. She drank it right up.”
    I freeze, feeling Jay’s fingers do the same on my clit. I’ve never heard Patrick talk this way—dirty, sure, but not with an intent to incite. I hold my breath and wait for Jay to explode. Instead he puts his mouth to my temple and says, “Tell me about it, Robin.”
    I take a breath. “I begged him to let me. On his couch. I got him as big and hard as I could, and teased him while he told me how he wanted to fuck me.”
    “You want to fuck my girl?” Jay asks.
    Patrick’s eyes jump from my cunt to my shoulder—to Jay’s face. “It’s all I can think about.”
    “Did he eat you?” Jay asks me, fingertips circling my clit.
    “Yeah,” I say.
    “Come over here,” he says to Patrick. “I want to see you get on your knees and make her come.”
    Patrick tucks his cock back behind his shorts, slides off the chair and walks forward on his knees, settling between my thighs. I hold my breath. Jay’s fingers tease me, dipping inside, taunting Patrick.
    “She’s so wet already,” Jay says.
    I feel his slick fingertips stroke my lips, and the look in Patrick’s dark eyes deepens all the longing. Jay takes his hands away as Patrick brings his face close. Jay cups my breasts, tweaks my nipples through the fabric to spread heat through my chest. Patrick’s tongue flicks my clit and my thighs jerk. His strong hands hold them steady. He laps at me for a long minute, flicking his wet tongue against my lips before he pushes the tip inside. I whimper at the sensation and