Liquid Fire

Havermouth, Present Time

Tom’s fingers clenched in the bedclothes. His injuries and position below them reduced him to passenger in the f-king but she did not think that he minded from the expression on his face. Her legs were wrapped around Greg’s waist and his hands palmed her arse, and Dan’s arms were around them both. She could feel the sweat building between their tightly pressed skin as both werewolves thrusted.

“F-k,” she cried out, letting the back of her head drop against Dan’s shoulder and Dan took advantage of her mouth being near to his and pressed wet open-mouthed, breathless kisses against the corner of her lips.

Greg bowed his head resting his forehead in the hollow between her chin and chest, his breath teasing her nipples as he groaned.

The stretch of c-cks within her was overwhelming, their thrust not quite in rhythm creating a friction against her g-spot, whilst Dan’s grip on Greg pressed the lead alpha’s public bone tightly to her clit, every rock of his hips pushi