Page 107 of Shadow Waltz
Ayan still didn’t touch us—he didn’t need to. His presence, the way he let himself be handled and worshipped, was enough to make me ache with want.
Then, just as I thought I might fall apart from the need to please, Antoni shifted, turning his focus on me. He leaned in close, pressing a soft kiss to my jaw, his eyes glittering with hunger and command.
He took my wrist, his grip gentle but certain, and guided my hand behind us, placing it firmly over the front of his own underwear. The fabric was already damp, stretched tight over the thick, straining length of his cock. Antoni held my gaze as he pressed my palm against him, making sure I felt every inch, every pulse of heat.
“Feel that?” Antoni whispered, his voice thick with want. “That’s what you do to me. Don’t stop.”
For a moment, everything was held in a trembling hush—the world reduced to sweat, cotton, muscle, and the weight of anticipation. Then it broke. Ayan’s restraint cracked, and he finally looked down at the two of us, something fierce and approving in his eyes. He reached for the waistband of his underwear, thumbs hooking the elastic, muscles flexing in his thick forearms. He didn’t rush, letting the tension build as he slid the damp cotton down over his hips, revealing the full, heavy length of his cock and the dense black hair at his groin.
Antoni’s hand never left my wrist. He squeezed, a silent command, as his other hand went to his own zipper, dragging it down until the fabric parted and his cock sprang free—thick, curved, the head already glistening. He let go of my hand only to tug at my hips, pushing the jacket from my shoulders if any of it remained. I felt the cool air on my skin, the heat of their gazes, and the soft thud of clothing hitting the floor.
Ayan stood over us, massive and still, his dark gaze traveling down my body, then to Antoni’s. He didn’t bother to hide hisappreciation. Every part of him was powerful. His thighs were columns, quads bulging as he shifted his weight, calves knotted and ready.
I reached for him, my hands roaming up from his knees to his hips, tracing the curve where muscle flared from bone. I pressed my face to the hollow between his legs, inhaling deep, letting my tongue find the places that made him twitch and tense. I kissed along the thick line of his cock, my lips sliding over the veins, feeling the way his whole body responded—a shudder, a flex, a stutter in his breathing.
Antoni knelt beside me, his own skin now bare, his cock standing proud, his chest rising and falling with hunger. He pressed his lips to my shoulder, then dragged his mouth over my back, teeth grazing, tongue flicking, hands greedy as they mapped my ribs, my sides, my thighs. He worshipped me as I worshipped Ayan, a chain of need that seemed to wind all three of us tighter.
Ayan grunted, his hand finding the back of my neck, not gentle but not cruel, just possessive—a wordless command to keep going, to take more. He rolled his hips, feeding himself into my mouth, letting me take him deep, letting me choke and gag and moan around his thickness. His free hand landed heavy on Antoni’s shoulder, squeezing hard enough to make Antoni’s breath hitch.
Antoni looked up, something wild in his eyes. He surged forward, mouth finding Ayan’s abs, biting down, leaving marks. He licked up the deep groove between Ayan’s pecs, tracing the line of hair with his tongue, teeth scraping over a nipple. His hands dug into Ayan’s glutes, kneading, squeezing, showing off his own power even as he submitted to the man’s size.
I was dizzy with it—two men built like warriors, their bodies all sweat and power, every movement a flex of control and surrender. My own cock throbbed, pressed between my thighs,leaking onto the floor. Antoni reached down, stroking me with a rough, sure grip, his palm big and callused, every squeeze a reminder of how much stronger he was, how much I loved being at their mercy.
Ayan’s breathing grew rougher, sweat running down his temples, dripping into the thick hair on his chest. He looked down, watching the way my mouth worked his cock, the way Antoni’s mouth and hands claimed his body. His hand slid down, cupping Antoni’s jaw, forcing him to look up.
“You want to taste?” Ayan asked, his voice deep and unfamiliar, touched with hunger he usually kept buried.
Antoni grinned, teeth flashing. “Always.”
Ayan pulled his cock from my mouth, rubbing the slick head across Antoni’s lips. Antoni opened, taking him in, his throat working as he swallowed the first few inches. I watched, spellbound, as Ayan fucked his mouth, slow and deep, his hips rolling, muscles flexing with every thrust.
I pressed kisses to Ayan’s thigh, then moved behind Antoni, running my hands over the swell of his glutes, the hard line of his back, the bulge of muscle in his calves. I licked a stripe up his spine, bit his shoulder, felt him shudder against my touch. My hands moved to his hips, squeezing, spreading him open, watching the way he arched for me, the muscles shifting under his skin.
Antoni let Ayan’s cock slip from his mouth, gasping for breath, spit shining on his lips. He turned, grabbing me, pulling me close until our bodies collided—chest to chest, cock to cock, sweat slicking our skin. He kissed me, hard and desperate, tasting of Ayan, of salt and need, his hands rough as they moved over my ribs, my ass, my thighs.
Ayan watched, jerking himself slowly, his hand big enough to make even his own cock look small. He growled, a sound low in his chest, the approval clear in his eyes.
Antoni manhandled me, turning me, pressing me down onto my hands and knees. He crawled over me, thick thighs bracketing my hips, his cock rutting against my ass, never quite pushing in, just grinding, teasing, making me ache with every denied thrust.
He bent forward, biting my shoulder, licking the sweat from my neck, his hands exploring every inch—sometimes gentle, sometimes rough, always sure. He slapped my ass, then squeezed it, then spread me open for Ayan to see, to admire, to judge.
Ayan knelt in front of me, feeding me his cock again, letting me take him deep, both hands buried in my hair now, guiding, using, making me his. Antoni thrust behind me, still outside, his cock sliding between my cheeks, smearing precome, every stroke a promise, every movement a threat.
The room was filled with the sounds of men—grunts, gasps, wet mouths, the slap of skin on skin, the low rumble of praise and challenge and raw, physical joy. I let go of everything, surrendering to the worship, to the hunger, to the hands and mouths and cocks that claimed me.
Ayan thrust into my mouth, his grip iron in my hair. “Fuck. This is a trip, you know that?” His accent got thicker when he was aroused, voice dropping low and rough, like he was trying to convince himself he wasn’t enjoying it even as his hips snapped forward, making me take him deeper. “Don’t get cocky, pretty boy. This is a one-time thing for me. You’re just lucky you know how to use that mouth.”
He pulled out, thick cock slapping wet against my cheek, smearing precum and spit. He pressed the head against my lips, dragging it slow, making me taste the salt and heat of him, his body trembling as he fought not to lose control. “Open up. Come on, let’s see what else you can do. You like having a real man’s cock in your mouth, don’t you? You fuckin’ love this.”
Behind me, Antoni’s hands were everywhere—palming my ass, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises. His fingers traced my hole, teasing, rubbing, making me squirm against the carpet. He leaned over me, voice pure velvet against my ear. “You want it, don’t you, Ash? Want to be filled, stretched, used? Say it.”
I gasped around Ayan’s cock, choking as he pushed in deeper, my eyes watering. Antoni’s hand smoothed over my lower back, soothing and possessive all at once. He withdrew, leaving me empty, desperate, then rummaged through a side drawer. The slick sound of a lube cap snapping open echoed in the high, elegant room. Cold gel dripped onto my skin, a stark contrast to the burning heat of bodies around me.
Antoni’s fingers worked the lube into me, first one, then two, then three, opening me up with patience and skill, making sure I was ready for him. “That’s it,” he praised. “Take it. You were made for this—so fucking tight, but you always give in, don’t you?” His words sent a shiver up my spine, and I pushed back, greedy for more.
Ayan glanced down, a strange mix of amusement and admiration in his dark eyes. “You see this shit? Fucking wild. Man, I’m not into guys, but you—fuck, you make it easy to forget.” He rocked his hips forward, slapping his cock against my face again, smearing more precum along my jaw. “Look at you. Taking it like a good little whore.”
I moaned, tongue lapping at the head, savoring the humiliation and the power in his words. Antoni’s cock pressed against my entrance, thicker than his fingers, the heat of him searing. “Ready?” he asked, voice soft but demanding.