Unholy Trinity (Rebel Kings MC #6)

by Garrett Leigh

I knew she had these fantasies about Locke too. She’d told me. Like I’d told her. Was she thinking of him as I searched out the magic spots that craved my touch? It was the weirdest thing that I kinda hoped she was. That her wanting him made me want her more. That me wanting him made me want to fucking devour her.

Nash and Orla bookended my sexuality. I loved every gender. I loved it all. But I only felt truly whole when I had them both on my brain. Fucking each other. Fucking me. Or even just laughing. Just living.

Wasting time. As I got older, I’d realised how much that mattered. That life wasn’t infinite, and before you knew it, twenty years had slipped by and you had fuck all to show for it.

My breath deserted me, leaving my body in sharp pants that Nash swallowed with his kiss until Locke stole him away, pushing down on his head. “Make her come, brother.” Again, the implication of his murmured words reached me too late, understanding only dawning in time with Nash’s expert tongue circling my clit. Fuck. Fuck. He was going down on me while Locke fucked me, his mouth inches from Locke’s hard length as it speared me open.

He fucked me like he loved me. Like he owned me, a raw curse ripping from his soul as Locke moved closer. Despite filling me just moments ago, he was still hard too. Still huge and imposing. He bent to kiss Nash, then, slowly, brought his cock to Nash’s waiting mouth, teasing his lips with it, holding his jaw like it was made of glass. It was the hottest fucking thing, the way the flex of Nash’s hips faltered. The way his dick thrummed inside me with a new heat that was all about the cock inching between his lips, sliding down his throat. He began to fuck me in time with Locke slowly fucking his mouth, his thrusts growing harder with every clench of Locke’s solid body. Every rumbling groan Locke let fly.

I opened my mouth. She cut me off with a hard stare. “No.” “You don’t know what I was going to say.” “It doesn’t matter what you were going to say.” “Queenie, I’m not about to complain about not hauling timber for days at a time. I’d rather be with you.” Rubi clutched his heart. “Locktipuss, you’re killing me here. Leave some romance for the rest of us.”

He followed and crashed his mouth to mine, his kiss as fierce as his touch was gentle. The contrast, intentional or not, blew my mind, and I fought to keep my hips still. Fuckin’ shaking with the effort. Nash chuckled against my lips. “You like that?” I kissed him harder. “I like everything.” The meaning wasn’t lost on him. His grip tightened, slickness from my leaking cock urging him on as I fucked his hand. “I wanna blow you.” I expelled a harsh breath. “I’d never say no.”

Locke braced his knees on the bed, lifting my hips, and like he did with Orla, he watched me, tracking my reactions until he hit the bullseye. Then it was on. He fucked so goddamn hard, holding me close, controlling every shift and shunt, sweat coating his chest, jaw set, a rough moan barrelling through. “Fuckin’ hell, Nash. You’re so hot around my dick.”

Locke heard me and pulled back, leaving his teeth marks behind. He slid inside me again, strong and sure, yanking me upright, my spine to his chest, his arm a solid anchor around my waist. His lips hot at my ear. “We fit together.”

Locke curved his body around me, his heated skin sliding with mine, his breathing a rough mess of deep grunts and low groans. He took my hand off my dick. “Wait for it.” I had no idea what he meant. Then it crept up on me, ambushing me with a hot slam of pressure-laced ecstasy. Fuck. Holy fuck. I buried my face in the mattress, a thundering wave taking me under. An unearthly noise fell out of me, and I came . . . I came so fucking hard. Locke slowed, milking my climax, drawing out his own, and the shot of wet heat pushed me to a new high, his wild groan a sound I’d never forget. He didn’t stop straightaway. He eased down, in and out, eking every shiver and shake until he pulled out entirely.