Page 31 of The Rival’s Obsession (The Black Ledger Billionaires #3)

S he comes hard.

Writhing. Gasping. Clenching around us like her body doesn’t know which of us to hold tighter. And I swear, it breaks something loose inside me.

Eve collapses between us, a soaked, satisfied mess of moans and skin. Her breath dances across my collarbone as she shifts off my lap, leaving my cock slick, twitching, still desperate for release.

Dante hasn’t come either.

I can feel it in the way he watches me—his chest rising hard and fast—as he slowly pulls himself free from Eve.

We’re all flushed.

Breathless.

But I’m fucking wrecked.

Not just from the act—but from what it’s unraveling in me. What I’ve buried for nearly twenty years. What I’ve lied about. What I’ve laughed off. What I’ve kept hidden, even from myself.

The wanting.

The truth.

It’s not even about Dante, not really. It’s about me. About finally letting go. Dropping the goddamn mask. Tearing it off, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left to hide behind.

And tonight… I can’t lie anymore.

Not to him.

Not to her.

Not to myself.

Dante’s warm hand is still on my thigh, and his fingers flex just so before he slides his touch off me and stands.

Eve steps between us, eyes on fire, and reaches for the condoms still wrapped around us both.

She peels them off gently. Intimately. Like she’s stripping away armor. Stripping us bare.

Taking both our hands, she presses them together—palm to palm.

Her voice is low. Breathless.

“Look at you both,” she whispers. “So fucking handsome.”

I look at Dante.

At his hand against mine. Our fingers mirroring. His thumb rubbing mine. Skin flushed. Cocks still hard and leaking between us. His dark eyes never leaving me.

I’ve imagined this.

Dreamed it.

Denied it.

But it’s nothing like the reality.

This is raw and pulsing and dangerous.

And I want it.

Fuck, I want it all.

Eve drops to her knees like a priestess at the altar of sin, murmuring something wicked before wrapping one hand around each of us. She strokes us slow—almost reverent. Her tongue teases my tip before she shifts to Dante’s, and back again, keeping us both painfully hard.

His cock is so fucking long. Thick. And God, I want it.

Eve looks so small against him, her mouth struggling to swallow down as much of his shaft as she can. Her hand circling him, but his girth still overwhelming her reach.

It’s when her lips leave Dante that he threads his fingers in mine and guides me to him.

“Come here.”

He grips my jaw and kisses me.

Open-mouthed.

Demanding.

And I let him.

No—I take him back. Tongue tangling. Breath catching. Our cocks pressed side by side, slick in Eve’s hands as the heat between us explodes.

His hand fists in my hair. I groan into his mouth.

I kiss him like I’ll never get another chance.

Because for twenty years, I didn’t believe I deserved one.

But tonight?—

Tonight, I take it.

The kiss ends too soon, but the heat doesn’t.

Dante doesn’t step away. His mouth lingers near mine, breath hot. Eve’s still on her knees between us, her hands stroking us slow, her eyes dark with something deeper than lust.

Dante’s hand slides lower—fingers wrapping around my cock. He strokes me once. Twice. His grip firmer than hers. A little rough. Like he knows what I like even though I’ve never told a soul.

Eve leans in, taking the head of me into her mouth again, tongue circling, cheeks hollowing.

Dante’s hand never leaves, stroking me while she sucks me.

“Do you want me?” he murmurs, voice low. Velvet and sin.

My heart stutters. My hips twitch.

He squeezes gently, forcing the air from my lungs.

“Say it,” he breathes, nose brushing mine.

I don’t answer right away. I can’t. My mind reels, body tight and trembling, held between their mouths and hands like a crucible. Everything I’ve run from pressing in all at once.

“Dimmi che mi vuoi, Lucciolina.”

? * I don’t know what he’s asking but I know I can’t lie anymore.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Exhale through gritted teeth. My voice barely a whisper.

“Yes,” I rasp. “I want you.”

Dante groans softly—more breath than sound. “Fuck, Grant. I’ve been waiting for you.”

He presses his forehead to mine before pulling back.

Eve shifts with him—eyes flicking to mine, her hand stroking me once more before letting go.

“We’re going to take care of you, baby,” she whispers, placing kisses on my dick, my pelvis.

Her lips part around the head of my cock again. Her mouth is wet heat and wicked rhythm, drawing shudders from deep inside me.

Dante steps behind me. His body warm and strong at my back. His breath skirting over my skin and heightening every nerve. Lighting me on fire from within.

I can’t think. Can’t breathe—just feel.

Eve takes me to the edge like she knows exactly where it is. Hovering there. Then dragging me back again. Only to bring me right to the brink once more.

Dante’s mouth finds my neck, kissing the shell of my ear. My jaw.

His hands run down my spine, slow and steady. Down to my hips. My ass.

I groan.

His palm is firm as he strokes lower—between my cheeks—and I barely have time to register the coolness before his slick finger, coated with lube, slides inside.

I gasp, and my knees nearly buckle.

“That’s it, baby.”

Eve doesn’t falter. Just stays right there—mouth open, breath warm around me.

“One,” Dante says, his voice like silk soaked in sin. “Nice and easy.”

His other hand wraps around my waist, grounding me. Trailing up my stomach, my chest, pinching my nipple. His lips are warm on my neck as he kisses me there.

“Relax for me. Let go.”

He curls the finger just right, and I jerk in Eve’s mouth. She moans around me—low and encouraging.

Then a second finger.

Thicker. Fuller.

Fuck.

“Dante—”

“I’ve got you, baby,” he croons, kissing the back of my shoulder. “Just breathe.”

The first push inside me punches a moan from my chest. My grip tightens in Eve’s hair, the other reaching back—blind, desperate—until I find the nape of Dante’s neck and clutch him like I’ll drown without it.

It’s not just that it’s a man touching me like this for the first time. It’s that it’s him . Dante.

The man I’ve dreamed of longer than I care to admit.

The one I told myself I couldn’t want. Couldn’t have.

And yet, here he is—behind me, fucking me open with fingers that seem to know exactly what I’ve been starving for.

I look back over my shoulder and our eyes lock—something inside me snapping loose at the hunger I see in his gaze.

I pull him into a kiss. Open-mouthed. Demanding.

His tongue tangles with mine, and I moan into him, lost in the taste of him, the feel of him, the way Eve’s mouth keeps working my cock like she’s orchestrating the whole thing.

“You’re doing so good,” he whispers. “But don’t come. Not yet. Give me your pleasure, Grant—but don’t you come down her throat.”

I whimper.

Fucking whimper.

“I—” I gasp, my head tipping back to his shoulder. “I don’t think I can—God—I don’t think I can come without?—”

“You can ,” Dante whispers, kissing the corner of my mouth, my cheek, my jaw.

His fingers still working me, and I call out at the euphoria building within me.

“I’ll talk you through it, baby. I’ve got you.”

Dante’s hand snakes around me, palm pressing down low, right at the base of my cock.

“Here,” he murmurs, his voice low and reverent. “Squeeze here. Just like that. Now breathe.”

I’m trembling. Shaking. So close I can’t hold it—don’t want to. But Dante keeps whispering, coaxing me back from the edge, keeping me perched right there.

“Just look at me, baby,” he says, kissing my cheek again, his fingers still moving deep inside me. “I want to watch you break for me.”

And that’s all it takes to hurl me over the edge.

It’s not release. It’s detonation.

My body convulses as the climax hits—raw and brutal and completely overwhelming.

Eve’s mouth stills around me, soft and perfect. Holding me without motion, like she knows what we’re doing. Like she wants to watch me fall apart just as badly as he does.

I don’t come. Not a drop. But it doesn’t matter.

It’s more than any orgasm I’ve ever known.

I’m groaning, moaning, my voice cracking on his name as I arch and tremble between them.

Dante holds me together with both hands—one still inside me, the other sliding up my chest like he wants to touch every part of me.

“Fuck,” he breathes, kissing the corner of my mouth. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this.”

I’m panting. Dizzy. Completely undone.

He brushes my hair back, fingertips tender against my temple.

“You’re going to let me fuck this tight ass tonight, bug,” he murmurs, kissing the hollow of my throat before licking up the column of my neck and biting my ear. “And you’re going to take every inch of me, aren’t you, lucciolina ?”

And I know—I won’t say no.

Never again.

Dante turns me to face him, and the moment our mouths meet again, I forget what it means to breathe.

It’s not a kiss—it’s a surrender.

My chest pressed to his, cocks sliding slick and heavy between us, our bodies move together like we’ve done this a thousand times in dreams and only now made it real.

Eve drifts toward the bedroom, tugging pillows into place on the wide bed.

Dante’s hands are still on me—mapping every inch of my back, my hips, the curve of my ass, the tension in my thighs. He pulls me tighter, groaning as we grind together, the friction almost too much. But not enough.

We stagger backward, mouths fused.

He walks me into the bedroom like a man possessed.

When we reach the bed, Dante steps behind me, wrapping one arm around my chest while the other strokes me—slow and firm. His palm curves around my throat as he leans in and whispers against my ear,

“Do you trust me to take care of you, bug ?”

I nod instantly. “Yes, Dante. I trust you.”

His hand tightens a fraction. His voice drops lower.

“Am I going to be the first to fuck your virgin ass?”

The way he says it—like a promise, like a vow—makes me whimper.

“Yes.”

He growls, biting down on the curve of my neck as both his hands fist my cock.