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“Like that, Fallon?” Leone’s voice is rough with desire, his breath tickling my neck as he speaks.
“Leone,” I whisper, my hands gripping the dresser’s edge for support, for something to ground me because everything is spinning, heating, igniting. I’m caught in a whirl of sensations, each one more intoxicating than the last.
The hum intensifies as Leone trails the vibrator lower, a deliberate torment that has my nerves sparking with electricity. I can’t help but arch into his touch as he draws it down, tracing the curve of my waist before slipping the device between my thighs. His other hand, firm and unyielding, grips my hip and pulls me back against him. The pressure is insistent and commanding, leaving no room for doubt about his intentions or his control.
“Ah!” The sensation is sharp when the device meets the sensitive flesh between my thighs; an involuntary jolt shoots through me, betraying my body’s reaction to his manipulation. He squeezes my ass, a possessive act that sends another rush of heat coursing through me.
“Do you like that, bambina?” His voice is a husky groan, vibrating against the shell of my ear. It’s almost too much, the way he says it—like he already knows the answer and is simply relishing my admission.
“God...” is all I manage to moan out, unable to deny the pleasure his movements evoke. My hips rock back into his, seeking more of that exquisite contact, and my eyes flutter shut, surrendering to the sensations he stirs within me.
But then, reality crashes in like a cold wave, and I snap my eyes open, wrenching myself back from the brink of oblivion. “You’re not putting anything in my butt!” I gasp, the words tumbling out in a defiant rush.
Leone’s laughter is rich and dark, reverberating through the closet. “I promise you’ll like it,” he insists, his tone laced with an arrogance that grates against my nerves.
“Ha!” I shake my head, trying to ignore the quiver in my limbs, the lingering buzz of arousal. “Nope, my ass is off limits,” I declare, trying to push away from where I am trapped against the dresser.
Leone laughs, refusing to move, and I am about to demand he does when Milo’s voice cuts through the tension, light and teasing. “Hey, please remember those boxers and towel!”
Leone’s chuckle is a low rumble against my back. “We’ll find your boxers, Milo. Patience.”
“Patience isn’t one of my virtues,” comes Milo’s retort, followed by the sound of water splashing.
“Neither is it mine,” Leone whispers, his lips brushing against my nape. But I push against him, determined to hold my ground.
“Leone, I’m serious,” I say, though my voice wavers, betraying the tangle of fear and desire inside me.
“Darling,” he purrs, “so am I.”
“Ah, I need more soap too. I got brains on my feet!” Milo’s voice echoes through the steam and marble, pulling me back into the moment. Frantic, I yank open another drawer, my fingers closing around the soft fabric of boxer shorts. Behind me, Leone stretches up, his tattooed arm deftly snatching a spare towel from the top shelf.
“Here,” he grunts, tossing it to me with a smirk playing on his lips. But as his other hand moves, the vibrator’s hum ceases. The silence is almost deafening after the constant buzz.
I shove off the drawers, desperate for space, but Leone’s presence is unyielding, his body caging me in. He squeezes my ass. His arousal presses insistently against me, a reminder of his dark intent. “I mean it, Leone. You’re not going near my butt,” I huff out, pushing against the solid wall of his chest.
He leans in close, his breath hot on my ear. “We’ll see,” he murmurs, the promise in his voice sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.
Escaping his hold, I rush toward the bathroom, my hands trembling as they drop the spare towel by the sink basin. Soap. Focus on finding the damn soap. My fingers scramble under the sink, finally clasping the slick bar of soap.
As I straighten up, spinning around, I’m met with the sight of Milo—water cascading over his chiseled form, droplets clinging to his skin like diamonds. He has an evil glint in his eyes as he steps closer out of the shower. His arm snakes around my waist with predatory speed, reeling me in like I’m nothing but prey caught in his web.
I let out an involuntary shriek as he yanks me into the shower, the cold tiles shocking my heated skin. His mouth descends upon mine with a possessive hunger; his kiss is violent and hungry, drowning out every thought except the need clawing inside me.
Milo’s grip is firm as he grinds against me, desire etched into every line of his body. My shirt peels away under his fingers, and I am bared to the steam and his devouring gaze. His mouth travels a hot, wet path down my neck, pausing to claim my nipple with a bite that sends a sharp jolt straight to my core.
“God, Milo...” The words are a breathless whisper, involuntary to the pleasure coursing through me. With a sudden, strong heave, he lifts me, my back colliding with the shower wall. The cold tiles are a stark contrast to the heat we generate. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, holding him close, craving the friction he provides. Our kiss is a clash of desperation.
A moment later, Leone strides in. He places more towels on the basin without a word, his presence a silent reminder as he watches us for a second. Milo’s body presses insistently between my thighs, hitting my clit with a precision that draws a gasp from my lips as his cock slips between my folds. I throw my head back, lost in the sensation, only to be startled by the buzzing sound I know too well.
Milo eases me down just enough to face Leone, who stands there with a grin that speaks of his wicked intentions. In his hand, the butt plug gleams menacingly. Milo reaches out, snatching it, while Leone directs the vibrator toward my trembling body, the hum intensifying as it nears my most sensitive spot, and I take a step back, only for Milo to grab me.
“That’s not going anywhere near me,” I protest, the words spilling out amidst shivers of both anxiety and arousal.
Leone’s eyes lock onto mine, dark and unyielding, as he pushes the vibrator closer.
“Isn’t it?” Leone’s voice drips with a dark promise, his smirk cutting through the steamy air of the shower. His patience has worn thin, a predator ready to claim his prey. “I’m done waiting. I’m fucking that pussy,” he growls, a low rumble that reverberates against the tiles.
Milo’s lips trace a searing path down my neck, each kiss igniting sparks that flicker and dance across my overheated skin. “And I’m fucking this tight little ass,” he purrs, his breath hot against the dampness of my flesh.
