Page 68 of Filthy Rich Ex's Brothers

“Fuck,” he mutters, lining himself up behind me, hands sliding under my t-shirt, palms grazing over my nipples, which are tight and needy.

“Yeah,” Ryan mutters, moving to the end of the bed and leaning on the bedpost, his eyes on my breasts, then on my open mouth, the pleasure that must be showing on my face at Travis touching me like this. “Fuck.”

Travis turns my head to the side, kisses me, and I can feel him already hard against my ass, so I rock my hips back against him. He swears under his breath again and finds my waistband, dragging my shorts down and off my body, tossing them to the floor.

My shirt is the next thing to go. After I pull it off, I sit up on my knees again and gesture for Ryan to come closer. Once he’s within reach, I take the hem of his shirt and pull it up over his head while Travis rocks gently against me, his cock insistent against the curve of my ass.

“Serena,” Ryan says when I trail my hand down his chest, wrap a hand around his length. His eyes, normally a bright, cornflower blue, are darker now, a mood ring showing his desire. “You?—”

But the words die on his lips when I pump my hand once around his length, and he curves forward, one hand on the bedpost, the other on my shoulder.

Travis slides a hand between my legs and parts me with a knuckle, dragging it roughly from clit to opening, and I sink back into him, attention split between the sensation of touching Ryan and being touched myself.

Pressing the flat of his thumb against my clit again, Travis takes my chin in his other hand and turns my head so he cankiss me. Eyes closed, I keep working my hand over Ryan, each movement timed with the frantic beating of my heart.

We chase what we need, little breaths and curses falling out of our mouths.

Then, Travis puts his hand on the small of my back and pushes once, gently. I let go of Ryan, who steps back when Travis pushes with more force, so I rock forward onto my hands and knees.

“Ryan,” I plead, and he steps back again, now with his own hand on his cock. Travis nudges himself against my opening right as I lick the salt from the tip of Ryan’s cock.

And then, everything is feeling. Travis pushes in behind me, taking me in a single, shocking thrust. I open my mouth, and Ryan slides his cock inside, not deep enough to choke, but enough that the sensations compound.

“Oh,fucking,fuck,” Ryan groans through gritted teeth, clearly trying to keep quiet, his hand coming up to tangle, lightly, in my hair. “Oh, Serena, that mouth,fuck?—”

Travis’s hands are vice grips on my hips, holding me in place, but not enough to keep his fucking me from moving my entire body, pushing me forward and Ryan a little deeper each time. Every sound that escapes me is gagged by Ryan filling my mouth, and the feeling of that is stupidly, insanely hot.

“Take it for me,” Travis demands, and I do, rocking back into him, trying to take more, more,more.

“Take it, Serena,” Ryan chokes, “take his cock in your tight?—”

He stops, shuddering, trying to pull back. I shake my head, mouth still moving on him, hand flying up to the base of his cock, holding him in place as he comes on my tongue.

“Oh,fu-uck,” Travis groans behind me, his hips slapping against mine, his cock buried so deep it must hit my g-spot, because I clench and tremble, my orgasm ripping through me.

Somehow, artfully, we manage to all come at the same time. A shared climax—me around Travis, him inside me, and Ryan with his hand tangled in my hair, his hand slipping under my jaw, cradling my face like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

Maybe some people would claim there’s something wrong with this, the three of us together, all chasing the desire so blatantly.

Biancawould claim there’s something wrong with this.

But I’ve never felt so right in my entire life.

“You’re alive!” Lillie cries, lunging in and kissing her webcam. When she does, my screen is nothing but a pink smudge for three solid seconds.

“Come on, Lil,” Georgia sighs, pushing our roommate back and snapping out a screen-cleaning wipe. “You got lipstick on my laptop.”

“Tinted lip balm,” Lillie corrects, applying more and laughing as Georgia attempts to clean off the lens of her laptop’s camera.

“I already miss you guys,” I say, biting my bottom lip to keep my eyes from tearing up. I’ve only been gone for three days, and although the villa has been wonderful, I miss the chaos of my friends.

Distantly, from inside the house, I hear a deep voice ask, “Wait, is thatSerena? Is she alive?”

And just like that, all four of my roommates are crowding around the kitchen table, trying to get their faces into frame.

“How’s Italy?” Sid asks, his mouth slanting in a charming smile. He’s let his scruff grow out, and it’s patchy over his chin. “Have you seen any mafia men?”

“Oh, please, she’s in rich-person Italy,” Grayson says, waving his hand dismissively. “The more important question is, what does the place look like?”