Cyborg Nation Kaitlyn O'Connor (books to get back into reading TXT) 📖

loincloths until she felt turgid flesh against her instead of cloth sheathed rods. Doubt flooded her as she felt them both probing her at once, both trying to mount her on their cocks. Gideon won the battle by snatching her upward and impaling her on his turgid length. Even as she let out a sharp gasp, wrapping her legs around his waist, however, she felt Jerico pierce her from behind.

Pain warred for several moments with the pleasure as he drove into her, continued to battle for dominance for many moments as they began to pound into her frantically, but it only seemed to magnify the pleasure. She held on tightly, her legs around Gideon’s waist, her arms locked around Jerico neck behind her, but her body had already begun to quiver on the verge of release before they managed to synchronize their rhythm. As they found it, began to strive for their own release, she came with an explosiveness that wrenched hard cries from her with every intense spasm that rocked her, that sent her spiraling toward darkness.

She went perfectly limp even as first Jerico and then Gideon uttered harsh groans and came. It would’ve been hard to say who was shaking the most when they leaned together in the aftermath, struggling to drag air into their lungs. But Bronte was still closer to comatose when they finally eased their cocks from her body than she was consciousness. When her feet touched the floor, her body, like her uniform had, kept going. Gideon and Jerico both made a grab for her, but she was so slick from the combined perspiration of their bodies and hers she slid from their grasp, wilting at their feet.

Dimly aware that both men were staring down at her in consternation, she tried to lift one eyelid and failed. Jerico and Gideon exchanged a horrified glance and knelt on either side of her. She had no idea what they were doing until she felt Gideon’s fingers against the still pounding pulse in her throat.

“Cut it out,” she mumbled, slapping at his hand.

“You are hurt?”

Irritation flickered to life in spite of the warm afterglow of the most powerful climax she’d ever had in her life.

No thanks to them, she was ok!

“I might be dying,” she murmured in a die away voice as she abruptly recalled what had unleashed the beasts to start with.

Gideon slipped his hands beneath her and snatched her up so fast she nearly got whiplash. She opened one eye a crack as he strode quickly toward the rear of the ship, Jerico on his heels—literally. He managed to step on the back of Gideon’s foot, twice, nearly tripping him up. Gideon sent a snarl at him over one shoulder, like the warning growl of a panther. They’d managed to make it through the rearward hatch/door by that time, however, and Jerico merely ran around them as they entered the sleeping quarters.

Gabriel, sensing the commotion, sat up groggily. Jerico reached him before he could get to his feet and knocked him off the bunk. Leaning down, Gideon settled her almost tenderly on the bed and began checking her for breaks. Bronte tried to fight him off but as soon as she pushed his hands away they settled somewhere else.

She swung at him when he caught her legs and parted her thighs to examine her pussy, missing, unfortunately.

He straightened finally, staring down at her. “What is wrong?” he demanded, his voice threaded with both confusion and anger.

“Too much cock,” Bronte muttered unwisely, rolling onto her belly.

The smack of a hand on her buttocks brought her back to life. She reared up on the bed and glared at Gideon, who was looking with a mixture of surprise and dismay at his hand, as if it had acted independently of his will. He transferred his gaze to her after a moment. “You are not hurt!” he growled accusingly.

Bronte set her jaw. “It wasn’t as if you didn’t try! What made you think you could both fuck me at the same time!”

Reddening, Jerico and Gideon exchanged an uncomfortable glance. “What the hell did you do?” Gideon ground out furiously.

“Nothing you did not do!” Jerico snarled.

Groaning, knowing what as coming, Bronte struggled to drag herself off the bed and seek shelter. She slid off the end of the bed and onto the floor just as Jerico hit the wall behind the bed and landed where she’d been moments before.

“What the hell happened?” Gabriel, who’d been glancing from one player in the drama to the next like someone watching a tennis match, demanded just as Jerico launched himself off the bed at Gideon, catching him in the mid-section and carrying him halfway across the room.

She certainly wasn’t going to tell him! Ducking, she wiggled under the bunk, praying no one was going to land on it and squash her like a bug. Gideon and Jerico were slinging each other around the room, however, and she was fairly sure she couldn’t make it out of the room or into the bathroom without getting flattened by one of them. She collapsed weakly against the wall as far from any edge as she could get once she’d climbed under the bed, wondering uneasily if they were going to remember what had started the fuckathon and free-for-all once they had exhausted themselves.

Recalling the look on Gideon’s face when he’d emerged from the hold and discovered her studying the star charts, she shuddered. It dawned on her that they must have suddenly realized she was alone and the bridge unattended. Ordinarily, they ‘sorted’ the supplies in the hold until they were too exhausted to manage much more than crawling out again, and sometimes not even that much. This time, though, both of them had still been pumping aggressive adrenaline when they’d arrived to find her trying to plot escape.

Not that she’d had a chance in hell of actually managing anything.

She supposed, if she’d been thinking more clearly, as in—not scared shitless at her audacity—she could’ve blocked