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“Yes, yes,” she cries out.
My fingers bite into her flesh. I’m dizzy with desire. Feeding off the depravity of the moment. Needing to bite. To fuck. To violate.
I’m starting to lose control.
As if hearing my thoughts, Killian digs his fingers deeper into my neck. The next moment, his other hand makes a fist in Amara’s long hair.
He’s touching us.
He’ll backtrack the moment he remembers the risk we’re taking by being together. How we’ll eventually have to go public with our relationship. Deal with rumors. Give assholes like Preston reason to doubt us, to undermine us.
They’ll paint him as a sick fuck. Make me look like a pathetic brainwashed groomed kid. They’ll say Amara is twisted for getting into this mess. Our mess.
I’ll burn the goddamn city down if anyone says that about them. Use my bare hands to rip throats. Maim people.
Once I find it in me to tell Amara the truth about what we do for a living. Once I force her to stay and be able to have security detail on her twenty-four/seven.
I will.
But Killian’s always been the responsible one. He won’t want any of this for us.
Well, fuck that.
I see him. See his restraint hanging on by a thread.
I’m here to slice this thread right down the fucking middle.
“You were fucking desperate for both our cocks, A.” Without pulling back, I fish out my knife. “Begging us to stretch you.”
Amara gasps. Killian sticks to his silence. It doesn’t bother me. I have his attention.
“Fill your tight holes.” I hold her very still, getting off on their heated stares as I yank on her T-shirt collar. I cut the thin fabric down the middle, exposing her tits to us. “Or maybe you want to see if we can make both cocks fit into your pussy.”
Her choked scream and Killian’s groan do things to me. Dirty things. My forehead presses to hers, one hand cupping one of her swollen breasts. I squeeze her for all I’m worth, eager to see her flesh bruised, marked.
This one’s mine. The second I’m leaving for Killian.
One of Amara’s hands is in my hair. Clutching at it, tearing at the roots. Her other hand has found its way to Killian behind her. Her fingertips rest on the pulsing vein in his throat.
Connecting the three of us together.
It’s her. This whole thing is possible, thanks to her. My filthy angel.
Who’s going to get a whole lot filthier by the end of the night.
“That’s not all, is it?” Her tits are no longer just mine. I shove her T-shirt to either side, giving Killian a view of our beautiful woman.
Her barbell ring drives him mad. I can tell by the low growl reverberating in his chest.
Moving my hands back to her hips, I pin her pussy to my cock. Forcing her to arch her back so I can lap my tongue on her nipple.
Her head falls and rests on Killian’s shoulder.
He releases her hair, his large hand covering Amara’s flushed cheek.
“You wanted it to be messy. Limbs and sweat and cum.”
She pulls me closer, and I groan against her taut nipple.
