Chapter 12
She’s mine. She’s ours. And she tastes so fucking good.
There’s no way that whatever is between us is coming to an end after tonight. We’re too good together, too electric. I refuse to let us fizzle out.
Dean sits down, straddling the bench. He pulls her down and positions her in front of him on the end of the seat, her back lined up with his chest. His hands trail down her arms and up her thighs, bunching the dress up with his fingers as he goes, exposing her perfectly for me.
She shivers, her eyes rolling for a second before landing on me. Her mouth is parted as she watches me with precision.
I can see the intense thump of her heartbeat in her neck. She’s nervous.
“You want this, right? We can stop right now if you don’t.” Even if it’ll kill me inside.
She nods instantly. “I want it. I just, umm … I’ve never done this before.” Her gaze falls from mine.
Dropping to my knees before her, I kiss the inside of her leg before sitting up and brushing her cheek. “We’re going to take good care of you, baby. I promise. Want me to keep going?”
She nods. “Please.” Her voice is delicate and soft.
Fuck, this girl has already ruined me completely. I’m on my damn knees, outside at midnight, pathetically desperate for any crumb of affection she’ll give me. And there’s not a single other place in the world I’d rather be.
Our girl is shy—I know that. But watching her push herself past her comfort zone, just for us, is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.
I stroke my thumb along her bottom lip, and her tongue darts out to meet it. My cock throbs in my joggers from the small contact.
“Lean your head back.”
Listening, she tips her head back against Dean’s chest, and he gently wraps his hand around her jaw, angling her just perfectly to seal her lips with his. His free hand wanders over her shoulder, sliding down and cupping her bra through the thin dress.
Leaning down, I palm her thighs, gently guiding her legs apart. The twinkling lights shine off of her glistening panties, soaked with proof of her feelings for us.
I want her to trust us and tell us why she can’t be with us and who’s scaring her. We can help.
But for now, I’m not going to think about anything other than my face between her thighs.
“I wish you could see this, D. She’s fucking dripping for us,” I groan, pressing kisses up her soft skin, higher and higher until I reach the delicate lace covering her.
In one slow, steady movement, I run my tongue up the center of her panties, and she gasps, her hips pushing forward as her back arches against Dean.
Hooking my fingers into the lace, I tug them over, enough to expose her perfect pussy. “Fucking hell,” I grunt before burying my mouth in her sweetness, breathing her in deeply.
When I flick my tongue out against her clit, she moans, “Holy shit, Asher.”
Hearing my name float off her lips flips some feral switch within me. I want to hear her scream it. I want her to remember how good I make her feel.
A growl tears through me, and I hook her legs over my shoulders, deepening my kiss and sinking my tongue further into her with each little thrust. Flattening my tongue, I lap it against her clit over and over, and her thighs tighten around me.
Dean praises, “You’re doing such a great job, baby. Look down. Watch him worship you.”
“Oh my God …” she whimpers as her eyes struggle to focus, locking on to mine. Her face contorts, her lips parted.
Moving my hand to her core, I circle the tip of my finger around her entrance, coating it. Extremely slowly, I ease the tip of it in, feeling her tightness.
Her eyes widen, and I pause, giving her time to decide if she wants me to keep going. After a second, she nods, and I continue.
Dean peppers her neck with kisses, and she melts into him as I guide my finger deeper inside her, past the first knuckle and the second, letting her adjust.
“So fucking tight,” I growl, sucking on her clit. I retract my finger and ease it back in, gradually picking up pace until sultry moans vibrate out of her. “Mmm.”
“Oh God.” Her head rolls back. Her hand reaches up, threading her fingers into Dean’s hair, and the other goes into mine.
Her panting quickens, and I feel her body start to clench around my finger.
“Let go, baby. Don’t fight it,” Dean encourages.
“Oh fuck,” she whimpers, her back arching and pussy pulsing around me.
“You look so pretty, coming for us, Princess,” I groan against her wetness. “So fucking perfect.”
She rides the pulsing waves of her orgasm, her head cocked back against Dean.
I think that we might be screwed because there’s no way I can ever let this girl go.
I may not know her name or the secrets she keeps, but somehow, I know she’s genuine and real—something we often struggle to find.
If anything, her shock and hesitancy when she found out who we were only made me like her more because I knew she wasn’t pursuing us for our money or status.
“I think it’s my turn to taste you.” Dean strokes her cheek with his fingers, and she looks at him with ecstasy in her eyes, a smile on her lips, and a nod.
He scoots out from behind her, and I take his place, my erection throbbing against her back.
Dean drops to his knees and slips her legs over his shoulders. His tongue immediately finds her center.
I pull her into my chest, wrapping her up in my arms, where I never want her to leave. “You’re ours, Princess. Ours.”
Delirious with pleasure, she exhales, “Yours.”
I kiss the side of her face, her hairline, her mask, any part of her I can reach with her secured in my embrace. She falls apart from Dean, crying out.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.” She grinds the words through her teeth, moaning.
I think her sounds alone might make me bust in my pants; it’s so fucking hot.
Proudly, Dean sits up and adjusts her panties before fixing her dress.
She musters enough strength to lift her chin, and Dean’s eyes are glowing as he stares up at her, pupils blown.
“Thank you, baby. I needed that.” Dean smirks, his tongue swiping his bottom lip.
She chuckles nervously and covers her face. Her voice is muffled when she talks through her hands. “Oh God, that was not how this was supposed to go.”
Dean pushes to his feet, and I scoot back, pulling her along with me, making room for him to sit. He straddles the bench, sliding in front of her.
Carefully, he reaches up and pulls her hands away. “How was it supposed to go then?”
She huffs out a breath, her words falling in one go. “My plan was to come here and tell you that I had a great time the night of the party, but that I’m not interested in seeing you guys anymore.”
“And now?” I murmur, kissing her ear.
She pauses, and I swear I feel her heart stop beating against me.
“Now … it’s just harder to tell you that I can’t see you guys anymore.”
“You’re still planning to do that? Why?” Dean asks. “Would it be different if we weren’t … us?”
She tilts her head side to side. “Yes … and no.”
“Not vague at all. Got it.” I chuckle, trying to make her feel better.
“It’s complicated.”
“Let us help,” Dean pleads, brushing his thumbs against the back of her hands. “Please.”
“You truly can’t, even if you tried. I’m sorry.
” Her voice cracks, and my heart aches. “I don’t live in a palace with golden gates and servants.
I live in a glass cage, and with one wrong move, everything will shatter.
My stepmother …” She trails off. “She will make sure that I lose everything. Being with you two, no matter how badly I might want to, will be the nail in my coffin.”
I mull her words over, trying to read between the lines. I wish she would just tell us who she is, let us help. Because it may not feel like it to her, but I’m damn sure we could make a difference, especially with the two Kensingtons at her side.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice pained. “I shouldn’t have let you guys do … that. It’s not fair to you—”
Dean cuts her off, “I promise you, we wanted to do that more than anything. Don’t apologize, baby. It’s okay.”
I rub her shoulders. “Can you stay for a little longer tonight?”
She pauses for a moment before nodding. “Yeah.”
“Good.” I kiss the back of her head, desperate to know more about her. “You go to HEAU?”
She stiffens slightly. “I do.”
“What are you majoring in?” Dean asks curiously.
She thinks it over for a second, probably debating if she wants to tell us at all. “Design.”
“Like computers?” I perk up. “Because I’m in computer science.”
“I know.” She giggles. “And Dean’s in business.”
Dean scoffs, a smirk tipping his mouth, “Are you checking up on us, Princess?”
“Maybe,” she teases. “I know more about you both than you could possibly imagine.”
“Oh, I see. You’re a little stalker, huh? This is just a big scheme to get us to fall for you.” I smile, happily under her spell.
That comment earns me a giggle. “Unintentional stalking perhaps.”
“Hmm,” Dean hums. “Unintentional stalking—I don’t think I’ve heard that term before. So, what? We’re not good enough to inspire you to intentionally stalk us?”
“That’s not exactly what I said, is it?” she challenges him back.
Dean loads up another question before she has a chance to say anything about leaving. “Have we spoken before? Like, without your mask? Have we met?”
“Kind of,” she quips.
“So mysterious, Princess.” I press my lips against her ear again, breathing her in deeply, committing her scent to memory. As if it’s not already there. “Tell me something … something about your life that we don’t know.”
“I’ve lived in Evermore my entire life,” she admits, maybe unknowingly giving us valuable information. “You guys were adopted, right? How old were you?”
I answer, “We were ten.”
“Did you know one another before getting adopted?”
“No,” Dean responds. “We first met here at the house.”
“Was it hard suddenly being thrust into a new life, a new family, expected to play your part?” Her question is so direct.
She’s inquiring about topics that most people actively avoid asking us.