Three-Way Split

by Elia Winters

  “Good girl,” Mitchell whispered in her ear, and she whimpered brokenly. “You want him to fuck you?”

  More of this would kill her. “Yes,” she sobbed. “God, yes, please.”

  Ben’s expression was pure lust. He let go of her clit and slipped a finger into her wet pussy, and damn, that one digit felt huge when she already had a cock inside her. When she moaned again, he wrapped his free hand around his latex-covered shaft and started giving it slow, steady strokes.

  “You want me?” Ben asked. “Say it again.”

  She nodded. “Please,” she begged, throat tight. “God, please, Ben. Please fuck me.”

  Mitchell let go of Hannah’s wrists and, instead, turned his hands palm up to twine his fingers with hers. She let her head drop back against his collarbone, and his firm, muscled body beneath her was the only solid thing in the world as Ben slowly, carefully pressed his giant cock against her slick folds.

  The moment he slipped inside, Hannah’s breath caught. She literally froze up, every muscle in her body clenching down, including around Mitchell’s cock in her ass. He gripped her hands more tightly and swore into her ear. It burned, it stung, it stretched her impossibly, and it felt absolutely amazing.

  Ben, too, looked like he might fall apart. “Damn.” He closed his eyes for a moment, one of his hands splayed out on Hannah’s belly as he gathered himself. “You okay?”

  She nodded, throat still tight. “Yeah. God, don’t stop.”

  Every inch he pushed into her was going to make her shatter apart. How could her body handle this? There was no pain, only blinding pleasure, the whiteout overwhelming sensation of being completely filled, and she could do nothing but lie back and take it.

  Mitchell’s voice was soothing in her ear as he whispered to her. “I can feel him inside you. Do you feel us filling you up?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t know if he could even hear her; she was barely breathing at all.

  Ben kept inching forward, pressing into her, bracing himself on her body as he slid forward. He went on forever. Finally, finally, he stopped, his hips flush with hers. This was impossible. She had no words, nothing to articulate that fucked-full feeling, her body pressed beyond its limits, stuffed totally full.

  Mitchell let go of her hands to grab her hips and, oh, began to move. In this position, he could thrust shallowly, sliding back and forth just enough to emphasize how stretched she was. Ben had more range of movement, and as he began to move as well, her body lit up from the inside.

  Every movement sent off fireworks, and she couldn’t hold out. Damn, she wanted this to last; she wanted to delay her orgasm and savor this experience, but she had been on the edge for so long, her body was already shaking apart. “Fuck,” she whimpered. “Oh. I’m gonna come.” Ben took her breasts in his hands, catching both her nipples between his fingers, a whip crack of sudden pain, and she was lost.

  This wasn’t like any orgasm she’d had before, this climax with its waves of pleasure, its intensity, its painful beauty; this rapture was going to kill her and rend her apart. The ecstasy was never going to end. Hannah couldn’t focus on anything but the way her body tensed up over and over around the fullness inside her, the twisting fierceness of Ben’s fingers on her nipples, the sensation of Mitchell moving in short strokes inside her. She was just one nerve ending, no thought, just feeling, the world dissolving into shards of touch and sound.

  She had only just begun to come back to herself when Ben began to thrust harder, and with those thrusts, she tumbled over the edge into another climax right on the edge of the first, or maybe it was still the first, and she knew she was crying out. Ben came, pulsing inside her, and then Mitchell, the hot swell of their cocks stretching her minutely farther, mutual thrusts changing in the moment of climax. Then she collapsed weakly, all pleasure and intensity fading away, leaving her limp in Mitchell’s arms as everything dissolved around her.

  “Hey.”

  Ben’s voice in her ear brought her back, and she dimly opened her eyes, groggy and stretched out and sloppy-loose with sated comfort. “Hmm?”

  “Don’t fall asleep on us.” Mitchell’s voice came from behind her, clearly smiling. “We’re a mess.”

  Hannah laughed. They had already pulled out of her, and everyone was slick with sweat and lube and fluids.

  “We didn’t kill you?” Ben brushed her hair back. “I thought we’d lost you for a little while there.”

  “What a way to go. Death by fucking.” She managed to push herself up to a sitting position. “Shower?”

  Next to her, Mitchell sat up as well, sweat-slick and mussed, but smiling. “Shower.”

  Hannah had never slept between two people before, definitely not in her queen-size bed. In the future, they’d have to do this in Ben’s king-size monstrosity. She could allow those thoughts now. A new sensation settled in her chest: hope.

  On either side of her, the two men curled close, Ben spooned along her back and Mitchell facing her. In the darkness, she could just see the glint of his eyes. He was looking at her. She traced a hand through his soft hair.

  I love you still felt weird in her mouth, but she said it, quietly into the stillness. Mitchell smiled.

  “I didn’t think we’d end up here.” He tangled his legs with hers and slid an arm over her side.

  Ben kissed her cheek from behind. “I don’t think anybody knew.”

  Hannah closed her eyes and reveled in their warmth. This was not anything like what she had expected. And yet, somehow, it was exactly what she needed. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, surely, and new questions and introspection that she couldn’t foresee. But now, she no longer had to face tomorrow alone. She could face it side by side with Ben and Mitchell. For now, tonight, in their arms, she was content.

  Epilogue

  “Wow, look at this place.”

  At the sound of Mitchell’s voice, Ben looked up from the shelves he was stocking. Mitchell stood in the doorway in his chef jacket, rubbing his palms briskly as he stepped in from the November chill. Hannah looked up, too, from where she was arranging dildos on a shelf.

  “It’s pretty good, right?” Hannah looked around the space. “We should be able to open by Black Friday, right on schedule.”

  Ben stepped back and surveyed their progress as well. They had been working hard on setup for the last three days, getting everything moved over from her shop so she could open as quickly as possible for the holiday rush.

  “I can’t believe it’s happening so fast.” Hannah exhaled. “I don’t think I ever really thanked you for this. For getting the construction work done so fast, getting me in here within three weeks.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s what business partners do for each other.” Ben smiled. He couldn’t help being happy that he was able to help. He looked over at Mitchell. “Why don’t you have a coat?”

  Mitchell rubbed his arms briskly again. “Coats are a weakness. It’s so hot in the kitchen. I’m just on break before dinner prep. Wanted to see how everything was turning out.”

  Hannah laughed, leaving the dildo rack and walking over to him. She wrapped her arms around him. “You smell like the kitchen.”

  Mitchell grimaced. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”

  “I like it. Smells like food.” She nibbled up to his neck, and Mitchell ducked, ticklish. Ben smiled. Watching the two of them flirt like this warmed his heart. He hadn’t expected this kind of casual intimacy from polyamory, the joy of watching people he loved loving each other.

  Mitchell pulled away, but he was smiling back. “You two going to come up for dinner tonight?”

  “We might be able to make a late meal.” Ben gestured to the room. “I think we can finish most of the setup tonight if we hustle.”

  “And then tomorrow I’m going to help him bottle the next set of winter lagers.” Hannah walked back over to Ben. When Ben went to protest, she held up a hand. “Come on. It’s the least I can do.”

  “I won’t mind the help.” Bottling was a
lways a pain in the ass. “And you’ve got the grand opening info going out in an email blast?”

  “Marketing folks got me all set up.” Hannah smiled. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. When does the shitty stuff start?”

  “Maybe when we start this polyamory discussion group after Thanksgiving?” Mitchell offered. “And we have to talk about our feelings with strangers?”

  “It’s going to be good marketing.” Hannah didn’t sound convinced. “At least, that’s what Lori keeps telling me.”

  “It’s our next adventure.” Ben looked between the two people in the room with him, the ones who had stolen his heart. “I think we’re due for one, don’t you?”

  Hannah laughed. “I don’t think we need any more adventures for a long time.”

  “But we’re going to get them.” Mitchell seemed apprehensive but confident, and it was a good look for him. “We’re going to have a lot of them in the future.”

  That may be true, but for Ben, for now, having these two in his life was all the adventure he needed.

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  Acknowledgments

  It seems fitting that a book about polyamory would take so many people to bring it to life. First off, I’d like to thank my agent, the indefatigable Saritza Hernandez, for standing by my side throughout this process. This has been the most challenging book I’ve ever written, and she talked me off the figurative ledge several times when I wanted to give up. Her steadfast coaching, shrewd business mind, and talented mentorship have helped me in ways that transcend my writing career. Every Hufflepuff should be so lucky to have a Slytherin like her on their side.

  I’d also like to thank Entangled Publishing for believing in this trilogy, especially Tera Cuskaden, my editor. Her ruthless edits challenged me to push this book as far as it could go, deep-diving into character, conflict, and structure. Her high standards have pushed me to become a better writer, and I will be forever grateful.

  I am blessed with a number of close friends who have encouraged me throughout this book’s creation. Thanks to the Sanctuary, my Kik chat group, for having unwavering faith in me. A huge thanks to my bestie Kysmet for co-hosting the Come and Play podcast and for letting me vent over Memories of Prague at the Dobra Tea House. And finally, this book wouldn’t be what it is if it weren’t for my own experiences with polyamory. To my intimate network—you loved ones who have been in my head and in my bed over these past two years—thank you for the conversations, the cuddles, the challenges, and for expanding my understanding of love.

  About the Author

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