Chapter 43
Chapter forty-three
Lawson
She’s lying on my bed. Soft and warm beneath Beau’s hands, with him pressed against her in a way that makes my chest tighten and my pulse race all at the same time.
Her red strands contrast perfectly as they fan out across my coffee-colored bedding.
I watch them move together, her lips parting slightly, breath hitching, little moans slipping past her lips as Beau kisses his way down her torso.
And her skin. God, her skin. It glows in the soft light of the room and is exactly how I’ve been remembering it for the past week.
It’s impossibly smooth, every curve and plane just…
perfect. And the way she arches against Beau, pressing into him without hesitation, it’s not just enticing, it’s intoxicating.
Addicting. Something I know I’ll want to see over and over again.
I never thought this would feel natural.
Being here, watching her like this with one of my best friends, letting it happen between all of us.
But it does. It feels right. So damn right.
More right than anything I’ve ever known.
With Beau here, with Lincoln, with Jasper, it doesn’t feel forced or wrong.
It doesn’t feel like we’re crossing some sort of forbidden line.
It feels… inevitable.
I want this. I want her like this. Want her with us, in a way I’ve never wanted anything before.
Every breath she takes, every sigh that leaves her lips, pulls me in closer.
Deeper. My hands want to touch her again, to memorize her body in ways I didn’t think I’d be allowed to.
But I also want to stand here. Firmly in place.
Entranced with the way she looks as she experiences pleasure.
I’m torn between being desperate to touch her and becoming addicted to watching her.
Because she’s mine just as much as she is theirs. She’s always been something I’ve known I wanted, even when I didn’t have the right to. And now… now I get to have her. We all do.
“God. Beau,” Abigail moans with her hand threaded in Beau’s hair as he eats her out like she’s the first meal he’s had in weeks.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs against her.
Abbie thrashes around for a moment, lost in the way Beau’s making her feel. Then, her eyes meet mine, and the sight almost takes me out at the fucking knees. Her hand outstretches toward me, and I can’t take another moment of standing on the sidelines.
Since this is something we’re clearly diving headfirst into, I tell myself to go all in.
To not overthink. To just do what feels good.
And well, if Beau didn’t want this, he wouldn’t have brought her to my room in the first place.
As quickly as I can, I remove what’s left of my clothes, and a pleasure-filled groan falls from my mouth as my hand finally wraps around my aching cock.
But it’s not enough. I need her touching me. I need to touch her.
“Look at you,” I say as I climb onto the bed next to her head. Abigail props herself up on her forearms while Beau brings her closer and closer to her climax. But even with Beau between her legs, she still wants her mouth on mine. “So beautiful. And so incredibly ours.”
I slant my mouth over hers, dying to have as much of her as the moment will allow. And as I swallow every moan, every whimper, precum leaks from the head of my cock. But just as I was a week ago, I’m desperate to hear her come.
Reluctantly, I pull my lips from hers and close them around her nipple through the thin lace fabric of her bra. “Off, Lawson,” she says breathlessly. “Take it off.”
I smile at her and make quick work of removing her bra before throwing it somewhere in the room.
Without hesitation, I close my lips around her nipple once again, sucking and nipping at it with my teeth.
A moment later, one of Beau’s hands comes up to pinch at her other nipple, and it takes no time at all before she’s coming apart beneath our hands.
Beau groans loudly against her pussy as he savors her release, and I’m lost at the sight of her as she calls out our names.
It’s one thing to experience her from Beau’s point of view, but to see her like this is…
I don’t think there are enough words to describe what she looks like.
She’s fucking euphoric.
I’ve always been good at restraint. At wanting something and choosing not to take it.
But watching her like this—watching the way pleasure softens her, opens her up, makes her glow—I understand how dangerous she is to a man like me.
Because I know what’s possible. And I don’t think I could ever convince myself I could live without her.
She’s not temptation.
She’s the point of no return.
Once her body relaxes, and Beau comes up for air, I switch spots with him, letting her kiss him. Listening as she tastes her release on his lips. “See how good you taste, Abigail? How fucking perfect?” Beau groans against her mouth.
Wanting to taste her for myself, I bend over and run the flat of my tongue through her folds. “So fucking perfect,” I say, confirming Beau’s sentiment.
I flick the tip of my tongue against her sensitive clit, and her hands thread through my hair, trying to pull me away. “Shit. Oh-ohmygod. Lawson,” she whines, and a second later she’s coming again all over my face.
But I want more. And this time, I’m not going to give her a chance to come down.
Sitting up straight between her legs, I fist my cock and notch it at her entrance before wrapping both palms around her thighs. “You’re gonna come again for me, Honey. Okay?”
I can’t quite understand what she says, but I see the nod of her head, and that’s enough for me. My hips slam forward, and her eyes snap closed as she fists the sheets beneath her. “Nuh uh. Eyes on me. Let me see those pretty eyes when I’m fucking you.”
She does as I ask, and for a second, I get lost in them.
Lost in those hazel eyes, glistening as they look up at me.
Then, out of my periphery, I notice Beau removing the rest of his clothes before he crawls back onto the bed.
I slow my thrusts, giving her time to decide what she wants to do.
It only takes her a split second to decide she wants more.
Wrapping her hand around Beau’s cock she urges him forward before her lips part open on a whimper. I watch with rapt attention as she licks her pretty pink lips. The instant the head of Beau’s cock slips past her lips, and a groan of pleasure rumbles from his chest, her pussy tightens around me.
“That’s it, Honey,” I praise as my thrusts pick up speed again. “I knew you could do it. I knew you could take us both.”
She lets out a half-whimper, half-moan before Beau practically snarls, “Oh fuck, Abbie.”
I know I’m not going to last much longer; all my senses are on overload. It’s too much in the best way possible. So, letting go of one of her thighs, I rub the pad of my thumb along her clit in hard and fast circles.
She responds so beautifully. Her entire body tightening beneath me. “Come for me, Abigail. Make a mess of my cock.”
And she does. Her mouth pops off of Beau as she comes loud and long for me, and a second later, I follow. I come harder than I think I ever have in my life, and I know the scary part is that this is just the start.
Slowly, I pull from her pussy and watch as some of my cum leaks from her entrance. Not wanting to waste a drop, I run my finger over the bead of cum, and a sense of satisfaction washes over me as her cunt tightens around the digit, trying to hold me in.
I crawl up the bed and lie down along the other side of her as Beau takes his place between her legs again. A small tear rolls down her cheek, and I kiss it away before it has the chance to reach the sheets. “You okay?” I ask softly.
“I’m okay,” she says, then looks up at Beau. “I’m so much better than okay.”
Beau swallows harshly. “Darlin’…”
He doesn’t say anything else. Like he’s too enraptured with the idea of having her, he can’t get himself to form words.
Abbie must realize the same because she reaches between her legs, wraps her hand around him, and guides him inside of her.
I let the two of them get lost in one another while I get lost in her.
And when she comes once more, I can’t get myself to look away.
Not until Beau crashes to the mattress on the other side of her and presses a soft kiss to her mouth.
It’s unhurried and tender and everything that is Beau.
And even as Beau and I take our time cleaning her, careful and gentle, and tucking her in, I can’t stop looking at her.
I stare at her as I watch the rise and fall of her chest, as her breathing evens out. The way her lashes rest against her pale cheeks. I watch the faint flush disappear beneath her freckles, followed by the pink on her chest, like her body’s finally realizing how spent it is.
I stay awake staring at her long after I should’ve closed my eyes.
I stare as the first soft sound escapes her—a barely there, quiet snore that curls something warm and helpless through me.
I watch Beau, too. I watch the way his arm settles around her like it’s always belonged there.
I watch as his breathing eventually deepens and he drifts off to sleep.
It’s quick and peaceful. So unlike the nights he spends staring into the fire in the living room.
He thinks I don’t know about that, but I do.
I stare at her until a feeling settles deep inside my chest. It’s one I don’t recognize at first. It’s heavy. Vast. All-consuming. It presses inward instead of outward, like it’s trying to carve out a permanent place inside of me. Ready to stay there forever.
It’s terrifying in its depth.
I lie next to her, staring, heart racing in the dark, my mind scrambling for a name for it—something manageable, something that doesn’t threaten to consume me whole.
But when the word finally forms, quiet and inevitable, it steals the breath from my lungs.
And I know, with a certainty that leaves no room for even a shred of denial, that I will never be able to look away from her again.