Chapter 15 – Braxton
brAXTON
“How long until we reach Smithfield?” Waverly asks, her voice breathless as Tristan’s hand drags across her thigh over her skirt and mine up her tits, where I squeeze her through her sweater.
“Thirty-five minutes in this traffic,” he murmurs.
“I’ve thought about this,” she admits, her voice barely audible above the hum of the engine. “With both of you. I mean, it was more of a joke, but still, I thought about it.”
I touch her cheek, turning her face toward mine. Her skin is warm and slightly flushed. “We can stop anytime,” I tell her, searching her eyes for any hesitation.
“I know.” She wets her lips. “I don’t want to stop.”
That’s all the permission we need.
“We’re going to touch you then,” I tell her.
She nods, and Tristan’s smile becomes predatory.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, and I watch a shiver run through her.
I kiss her, gently at first, then with growing hunger as she responds.
Her lips are soft, tasting faintly of coffee and strawberry jam.
Tristan watches for a moment, his hand still on her knee, then he moves in to kiss her neck, just below her ear.
She makes a small sound against my mouth, something between a gasp and a moan.
Tristan’s hand slides higher, pushing the hem of her skirt up slightly.
I pull back just enough to watch her face as Tristan continues to kiss along her neck and down to her collarbone. Her eyes are half-closed, lips parted. So fucking beautiful I can hardly take it.
My hand moves to the buttons of her sweater, undoing the top one.
“May I?” I ask, and when she nods, I undo another. Not enough to expose her, just enough to give us access to more skin.
I run my fingers through her hair, watching as Tristan presses his lips to the newly exposed skin at the base of her throat. My other hand finds her waist, feeling the warmth of her through the thin material of her sweater.
“The windows,” she says suddenly, glancing out at the passing city.
“Tinted,” I assure her. “No one can see in.”
“We’d never risk you,” Tristan promises. “We share, but we don’t share what’s ours with others.”
She relaxes again, turning her face to kiss me once more. This time, there’s more urgency, her tongue teasing mine. Tristan’s hand has moved higher on her thigh, disappearing beneath her skirt. I can feel her breath quickening against my lips.
“Tell us if anything’s too much,” I say, breaking the kiss to look into her eyes.
She nods, then gasps as Tristan’s fingers trace the edge of her underwear. “Not too much,” she manages. “Not enough.”
Tristan chuckles, a low sound that I feel more than hear. “Greedy,” he chastises, but his tone is approving. He shifts, turning her back slightly toward me so he can better access her body. His hand cups her breast, thumb circling where her nipple must be, judging by the way her breath hitches.
I run my hand along her side, up to where Tristan is touching her, our fingers briefly entangling before I move to her other breast. She arches slightly into our touch, her hands gripping the leather seat on either side of her.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I murmur, watching the flush spread across her cheeks and down her neck.
Tristan kisses her now, more demanding than I was, his hand moving from her breast to tangle in her hair, controlling the angle.
I take the opportunity to unbutton her sweater further, revealing a pale blue bra underneath.
I twist my body and angle my neck to press my lips to the swell of her breast above the fabric, feeling her shudder.
When Tristan releases her, her lips are swollen, her eyes glassy with desire. “This is so crazy. Who gets two men like this at once? It’s a fantasy. Something imaginary.”
“Not imaginary,” Tristan states, his voice rough. His hand returns to her thigh, pushing her skirt higher. “Brax has been wanting this for two years. I resisted for obvious reasons.”
“Reasons like you hated me and didn’t want to lose me since I’m the best assistant ever?”
He grins. “Definitely the latter and not the first. I think it’s clear by this point, I don’t hate you.”
“A limousine in Paris seems appropriate for our first time together,” I add with a smile, my thumb tracing the lace edge of her bra.
She laughs, a sound that turns into a moan as Tristan’s fingers brush against her through her underwear. “Very appropriate,” she pants.
I capture her mouth again, swallowing her sounds as Tristan continues to touch her. Her hand finds my knee, then slides upward, tentative at first, then more confidently as I make an encouraging noise against her lips.
Tristan pushes up her skirt as I fully unbutton her top to reveal her bra and a pair of matching blue underwear.
“Fuck,” Tristan hisses, taking in the sight of her with her thighs spread, her skirt up around her hips, and her sweater completely unbuttoned. “Look at you. Look at her,” he says to me. “So fucking pretty. So fucking ours. Pull down the cups of her bra. I want to see her tits.”
And this is the shit that I fucking love.
“Only if you slide her panties to the side and show me her cunt.”
He grins wickedly as I pull down her cups so her full tits fall out, partially pushed up by the bunched fabric and underwire beneath them. With his eyes on her and two fingers in her thong, he tears it from her.
She cries out as I laugh. “You fucking jerk!” She smacks him.
“I told you this was going to be my favorite game with you.”
“I can’t go into that meeting without my panties.”
“You can and you will because these will be in Braxton’s pocket.”
He hands them to me, and I take a deep inhale, loving the wetness on them and slipping them into my pocket.
“It’s going to keep us so hard knowing you have nothing on under this skirt,” I murmur in her ear.
She should look vulnerable like this, half-dressed between two fully clothed men. Instead, she looks powerful, aware of the effect she has on us. Her initial nervousness seems to have faded, replaced by a confidence that's intoxicating.
“Good. You’ll both deserve that.” She reaches back and squeezes my cock, and I groan, especially when she rubs the head through the silky material of my pants.
Tristan chuckles as his hand returns to her inner thigh, stroking upward until his fingers press against her pussy. I watch her face as he touches her, the way her lips part, and her eyes flutter.
“You’re already so wet,” he says, his voice low and possessive as he pushes two fingers into her and her back arches away from the seat. “Is this all for us?”
Beyond the glass, Paris stretches around us with cream buildings and wrought iron balconies, morning rush hour in full swing. In here, it’s our dirty playground, and never have I been happier or more turned on.
She nods, unable to speak as he increases the pace of his fingers, ignoring her clit.
I slide my hand down and cup her breast. Her nipples are pink and hard, and when I brush my thumbs across them, she moans. The sight makes my mouth dry, and I can’t stop myself from shifting her so I can suck her nipple into my mouth.
Tristan traces through her folds, spreading her wetness, circling and playing but not quite touching where she wants him most.
“Tristan,” she pleads, hips shifting restlessly.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he says, his voice firm. “Be specific.”
Her face flushes deeper, but she holds his gaze. “I want your fingers inside me. And Brax to rub me.”
I groan at her words, my own arousal becoming almost painful. I continue to take her exposed nipple into my mouth, sucking gently as we comply with her request. Tristan pumps one finger back into her, and I slide my hand to the top of her mound until my fingers find her hard clit.
“You like that,” I rasp in her ear. “You like both of our hands on you?”
“Oh my fuck!” she cries, one hand coming up to hold my head against her breast, the other gripping Tristan’s wrist.
He adds a second finger, curling them inside her in a way that makes her cry out again. “Quiet,” he warns, though his voice is strained. “Unless you want the driver to hear what a desperate little slut you are for us.”
The words should be offensive, but they only seem to excite her more.
She bites her lip, trying to stifle her moans as Tristan pumps his fingers in and out of her and I rub tight circles along her clit.
I release her nipple, moving up to kiss her again, swallowing her sounds.
My other hand loops around her so I can hold her and pinch and roll her nipple between my fingers.
She tears her mouth away from mine, gasping for air. “Oh god,” she breathes, her hips lifting to meet our combined touch.
“That’s it,” Tristan encourages, his fingers moving faster inside her. “Let us make you feel good.”
I circle her clit with my fingers, watching her face contort with pleasure. Her eyes are closed, head thrown back against the seat, and her lips are parted. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Are you close?” I ask, feeling her body tensing beneath our hands.
She nods frantically, unable to speak.
“I want to feel her come too,” I tell Tristan, and without asking, twist my wrist so my thumb is on her clit, and I can slide a finger into her along with Tristan’s.
“Holy. Oh my god, oh my god. That’s…” She rocks up into our hands, fucking us as we’re fucking her. She’s so hot and wet, and with Tristan’s fingers in her with mine, so goddamn tight.
“If you think it feels good to have us both fuck you like this, wait till you’re taking both of our cocks.”
“Was her cunt this tight when you fucked her this morning?” I can’t help but ask.
“So fucking tight. If she’s a good girl and comes for us, I’ll let you fuck her on the way home.”
My cock jerks in my pants, desperate for that to the point of pain, and my fingers pick up their pace, my thumb on her clit moving faster and harder.
Tristan leans in, his lips at her ear. “Did you hear that? If you want me to let you bounce on Brax’s cock later you need to be a good little girl and come for us.
” He glances out the window, noting that we’re getting close to our destination, and smirks at me before he breathes against her lips.
“Show us how greedy you are for us. What a good little cock whore you’ll be. ”
As if on cue, she shatters, her body arching between us, a strangled cry escaping her lips despite her efforts to stay quiet.
I feel her pulse around our fingers and against my thumb.
We continue to fuck her like this, drawing out her pleasure, watching her pussy hold our fingers in and her lust-drunk face until she weakly pushes our hands away, too sensitive to bear more.
“Jesus,” she whispers, her chest heaving as she catches her breath. Her eyes open slowly, looking first at me, then Tristan, a smile spreading across her face. “That was...”
“Just the beginning,” I finish for her, bringing my finger to my mouth and sucking her cum off it. Tristan’s eyes flame, and he does the same, sucking his fingers clean in a gesture that makes her eyes widen and my cock throb.
This meeting is going to be hell.