Page 159 of Jordan

Enzo lays me down on the desk, hiking my skirt up to my waist, and spreads my legs wide. He drops to his knees, pushing my panties to the side, and sucks my clit into his mouth. I cry out as my back bows from the desk, my fingers digging into the edge. Rafael moves around the other side, and the sound of a zipper has me opening my eyes. He smirks down at me as he frees his dick, running the head along my lips. I dart out my tongue, licking him. He takes a small step back, hooks his hands under my arms and pulls me back so my head hangs off the desk.

“Open up,” he says.

Oh, okay. Rafael isn’t usually the one using such a demanding tone, but I could get used to this. I open my mouth, and he slides in, groaning when he hits the back of my throat. Enzo keeps lashing at my pussy, making the sweetest sounds, like he’s eating the tastiest dessert. My hips rock against his mouth. My throat tightens around Rafael, sucking harder.

“Come for me, angel,” Enzo says. “Give me what I want.”

He slides two fingers inside me, hooking them up and stroking while circling my clit with his tongue. Rafael keeps fucking my mouth. My eyes sting with tears, my lungs burning for air as all I can pull in and let out are little breaths at a time.

I want to tell Enzo I am about to come, but I can’t. Though, I don’t think I need to because my body says it all. I’m practically riding Enzo’s face, my hands white-knuckling the desk. My muffled cries still sound, my body shakes.

“Such a good girl,” Enzo rasps out. The sound of his belt echoes in the room, and before I know it, he’s sliding the head of his dick through my folds and pressing inside me.

Holy shit.

Is this? This has a name. This totally has a name! And the fact this is what comes to my mind right now is ridiculous.

Enzo’s large hands slide up to my stomach. He rests them there gently, and I’m hit with a rush of emotion at the thought that what we’re doing is what gave us our babies.

Yeah, kind of weird, I know. But I’m pregnant, emotional, and having weird thoughts. Oh well.

They don’t last long when Enzo starts fucking me harder, his hands moving to my hips to pull me into him. And I can think even less clearly when Rafael starts thrusting faster, going deeper down my throat.

“I’m going to cum right down your wife’s throat, Vincenzo,” Rafael says tauntingly.

And holy hell, I think he’s trying to get a rise out of my husband.

Enzo makes a sound of approval. “Good. Because I’m about to fill her pussy up.”

I moan, tears dripping down my face as I hold on for dear life and allow these men to use my body as they see fit.

Rafael lets out a low rumble, thrusting one final time all the way to the back of my throat. His dick throbs, pulse after pulse of cum going right down my throat. I swallow it all, while focusing on the way Enzo grinds into me, his cock throbbing, his seed spilling into me too.

Rafael pulls his dick from my mouth. I gasp for air, saliva dripping down my cheeks and chin. He lifts my head, helping me into a better position on the desk so my neck doesn’t feel like it’s breaking.

Rafael tucks himself away, leaning against the desk to catch his breath. Enzo kisses me sweetly and brushes some hair away from my face.

“I love you so fucking much,” he whispers into my ear.

I hum a happy sound, unable to form words.

Enzo pulls out of me and helps clean me up. He pours a drink for him and Rafael from the bar while I get comfortable on the couch. Feeling happy and in a silly mood, I get Rafael’s attention by asking, “I thought you said Enzo doesn’t like the French?” Rafael and Enzo both grow confused.

“I don’t,” Enzo grunts. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“What was with the Eiffel tower then?” I raise a brow, and that’s when Rafael barks out a laugh, while Enzo looks at me like I’m crazy.

“The what now?” he says.

Rafael laughs even harder, and this time I join him, trying to hide my laugh behind my hand.

“What are you talking about?” Enzo pushes, causing us to bend over with laughter. I’m laughing so hard no sound is coming out. I’m crying, and my stomach is cramping. It takes a few moments before we settle.

“Forget it. It’s a generational thing,” Rafael comments, then walks out of the room.

“Are you calling me old?” Enzo yells after him. He doesn’t get a response. Enzo looks at me. “Is he calling me old?”

I bite my lip, trying to stop myself from falling into another fit of laughter, but giggles still fall out of me. I guess life here won’t be so bad after all.