Page 78 of Cries of Cassie

I move to the foot of the bed and kneel behind Ripley as I grab hold of his ass. One long swipe of my tongue and he’s drenched in my spit. Only two fingers to spread him open, and he's ready.

Ripley loves pain with his sex, so the burn of my dick slipping past his tight rings of muscle only makes him pant in pleasure. So hot, so tight, so fucking mine.

“Fuck him like you mean it,” I snarl. Koa and Ripley both take my words to heart, easily matching the pace and brutality of our thrusts. Over the years we’ve perfected this fucking train, and damn is it amazing to show it off to Cassie.

Sweat tickles my back, my balls slap against Ripley’s, his hairs giving me the stimulation I needed to throw me right over the fucking edge. “FUCK!”

I fight like hell to keep my eyes open so I can look inside Cassie’s mouth when her jaw drops and imagine spirts of our cum landing on her tongue, but the intense pressure release slams my eyes closed.

Throaty groans and vulgar words draw more cum from me than ever before until I’m slipping sadly out of Ripley and falling into the pile of sweaty, sated bodies.

“That…” Cassie’s quiet words trail off. When I tilt my head back to look at her over the round globes of Koa's ass, she’s smiling wistfully. “That was literally a wet dream come true.”

What’s better than hot sex with my men? My woman making me laugh and smile right after.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Koa (Koa)

“OH! HOLY FUCKING SHIT! OH MY GOD! OMG OMG OMG OMG!”

The amount of joy pouring off Cassie is contagious. The brothers working around her all stop what they’re doing to smile and watch her. Hell, some even bounce on their toes like they just can’t contain themselves.

“I DID IT! I ACTUALLY DID IT!”

The fizzy feeling in my chest rises with each excited jump. Not even her tits bouncing delectably can take me out of this moment.

“I swear to fucking god if they so much as see the color of her nipple I’ll⁠—”

“PARKER! DID YOU SEE?!” Cassie screeches, running up to him and swinging him around in a circle. That’s another way to stop his threats. Cassie’s happiness, my mouth. We got him handled.

“I did, Sunshine. I’m so proud of you,” Parker praises, kissing her scarred eyebrow. Grease is streaked across one of her cheeks and her hair is a matted, red mess on top of her head. I’ve never seen something so fucking gorgeous.

“What was she working on today?” Maddox whispers in my ear, joining in on the celebration.

Parker and I have been watching, stalking, Cassie for the past hour as she wrestled with her motorcycle. Ripley and Mads have been organizing her surprise.

I lean against his chest and breathe him in. “Oil change.”

“I’m guessing she did⁠—”

“I CAN’T BELIEVE I DID IT!”

Chuckling, I nod. “Yes, she has successfully changed her oil for the first time.”

It’s been a tough month for her since coming home from the hospital. She’s had to rest and recuperate. Add on the fact that her shoulder hinders almost everything she does, and there have been a few angry tears shed as she tries to get back to normal.

The anger at Victor is what drove her to seek therapy. She despised the fact that a dead man could still hurt her. It’s only been a few weeks of seeing her therapist, but channeling her big feelings into a new goal has done wonders.

She’s spent most of the month studying bike mechanics. Once we let her leave the house, because we all have our issues, she sat with the brothers in the garage. Cassie became a sponge. She soaked in all the information she could so that when she could move her shoulder without screaming, she could try small jobs.

We aren’t sure how her injury will affect her career as a tattoo artist yet. The damaged side is her dominant one. She’s not ready to talk about it, but tinkering on bikes seems to fill her with enough purpose to keep her fulfilled.

“Is everything ready?” I murmur so she doesn’t hear me, even though she’s dragging Parker to her bike to point out all the things she did. Fuck, I love her.

Ripley saunters up to us and wraps an arm around my waist. “She is going to love it,” he declares with a smile, only for it to falter. “If she doesn’t, I’ll buy her the giraffe she always talks about.”

“Does anyone even know what her fixation is on giraffes?” I ask, genuinely confused.