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“You’re so fucking hot.” She leans into me, biting my tattooed bicep.
I want more of her. More of them. So I use my thumb to stroke her clit. It’s a tight fit since we’re all mashed together, but her clit is swollen and she’s wet. So wet that my thumb slides over and massages her for being such a good girl.
Her hands fall from our necks as her desire takes over. She’s helpless, crushed by two ravenous kissing men. And she’s about to come.
“Please,” she begs, then sucks on my skin. Beautiful, needy thing.
“Her asshole,” I order Carter between hungry kisses. “If your thumb isn’t in there already, push it inside her tight little hole.”
Carter’s eyes fly open. His swollen lips hike up.
I don’t see the moment he slips his thumb in or deeper into her other hole. Don’t have to. Amara’s body tells me everything my eyes can’t see.
She shudders, her small fingers latching on to my waist. Her teeth release their death grip on my arm when she first screams, then begs for more.
She won’t last long.
“Put your mouth on her.” My gaze bores into his. “She’s not coming by herself.”
He understands. He wants that for her, same as I do. We return our mouths to Amara, our lips kissing, sucking, pleasuring her skin. Carter and I pour our attention on her neck, jaw, her cheeks.
Her hooded gaze glides from him to me. Her pussy clenches on us.
“I’m going to… Fuck.” Her sweet voice strokes our ears and we shove our fingers deeper into her. “I’m going to come.”
“Do it,” we both snarl at the same time.
Our good girl does. She freezes for a moment. Her muscles strain. Her breath is caught in her throat. When she screams her release, her whole body shivers in our hold.
The penthouse is soundproofed, but for once, I hate it. For once, I wish it weren’t. I wish everyone within a ten-mile radius could get a taste of the pleasure we brought Amara.
Us. Both of us.
We keep finger-fucking her holes, kissing her, telling her, “That’s it, let it go.”
Once her quivering body grows limp, I pull out of her. My hands go to her shoulders, and I take half a step back so I can look at her. Flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Eyes at half-mast as Carter continues to devour her shoulder with his mouth.
“You were so good,” I tell her, gazing at Carter so he’d know I’m talking to him too. “We’re not done. Are we, Carter?”
“No.” He shakes his head slowly, his psycho grin parting his lips. He’s beautiful in a dark way. Mine to do with as I wish. Ours. “How do you want us, Killian?”
“You.” I dive my hand into Amara’s long hair, shoving her to the floor. “On your knees.”
“No.” She wriggles, her eyes no longer hooded.
They’re very much alive. Rebellious.
Regardless of her playfulness, her denial stops me in my tracks. Carter’s wicked grin widens, reminding me this isn’t her safeword. Just in case, I raise an eyebrow, waiting for her.
“Not begonias,” she whispers. Then returns to fight me.
Little bird, pretending she wants to spread her wings and fly.
She doesn’t.
She won’t.
“Feral little thing.” I invade her space, casting my shadow over her. “You’ll go down on your knees. It’s either that, or I’m going to fuck your ass dry.”
