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“Now, suck me.”
I thrust deeper when she starts, then lean forward and slip my hand around Carter’s cock. He’s wet with her arousal, and my hand slides on his thick, veiny dick as I jack him off. As I flick my thumb on his piercing.
Being with them is every bit as perfect as I imagined. I have both of them. Kinky and wrong and absolutely right in my hand.
“Oh, fuck yes,” he curses.
“I said eat her out, Carter.” I squeeze his throbbing head, pinching the piercing. “Don’t stop.”
His pained growl and her willing mouth nearly push me over the edge. I’m close to blowing my load down Amara’s throat.
“Yes.” Carter does as I say, his black hair falling and hiding the top of his eyes. He moans into her pussy. She moans around me.
“Come.” My last restraint is about to snap. “Both of you, come.”
My command has the three of us making it to the finish line together. I feel his cum shoot out on my hand. She moans and screams as she gags on my cock, swallowing every fucking drop.
Back in my shower, I can’t stay quiet. I’m loud when white, sticky spurts of my cum shoot on my stomach, then wash down the drain with the water.
Slowly, I regain my sanity.
Slowly, the self-loathing returns.
How deeply, thoroughly, fucked do I have to be to have all these sick scenarios in my head?
I grab the shampoo, lathering it into my hair harder than necessary.
I’ve been repressing my desires for them, acting like a grumpy asshole around her and stricter around him. For good reason. These fantasies are wrong.
It’s an abomination, the things I want to do to them. The people I want to have.
I’m not going anywhere near their room ever again. If Amara’s screams will actually be those of pain next time, Carter is more than capable of looking after her. Protecting her.
Saving her like I wish I could.
I’m not a part of this. Never have, never will be.
Knock, knock, knock. I hear from the door to my bedroom.
“Killian? Are we leaving soon?”
Amara.
I sigh in relief.
Talk about perfect timing.
CHAPTER TEN
Amara
“You can drop me off around the corner,” I tell Killian. “I’ll walk the rest of the way. It’s only three blocks to my shop.”
“No.”
My lips twitch, unease twisting my insides. It has nothing to do with passing by Georgia’s pink, immaculate shop, and everything to do with sitting in a car with Killian.
It’s why I’m fidgeting in my seat. Why one of my hands tugs at the soft material of my pink skull dress, the other patting one of my two space buns nervously.
