Chapter 35 The Limelight
THE LIMELIGHT
QUINTON
"Hungry?" Emery asks, swaying the can of whipped cream back and forth.
The challenge in her tone sends a surge of blood straight to my cock. Damon, on the other hand, expels a low growl, his brown eyes fixed on our girl’s teasing lips. Emery loves to keep us on edge, taking control. Damon hates it. He’s always preferred to be the one to bring someone to their knees.
Not anymore.
Damon shoots me a knowing look, his gaze flicking toward the loveseat tucked away in the corner of the room.
He gives me a subtle nod. An unspoken suggestion.
A wicked grin clips my lips. Emery's gaze flits between us, and I raise an amused brow in response. She’s intrigued.
And perhaps slightly annoyed. She wishes she were privy to our tacit language.
She’ll learn it eventually. She’ll become fluent in no time.
"Strip for us," Damon demands, his voice a husky murmur.
Emery's cheeks flush with a perfect shade of pink. But it’s not a blush of embarrassment. No. It’s one of excitement. Of cruel knowledge. She sets the can of whipped cream on the bed, her lips curled into a sly smirk as if she was born to be a goddess.
"Take a seat, boys," she coos, grabbing the media remote to the entertainment unit and guiding us toward the loveseat.
With a click, she turns on a sultry satellite station. The rhythmic beats of the music pulse through the room, setting the mood for what's bound to be a spectacular performance.
Damon and I sit down, our eyes never leaving Emery as she takes her spot in the limelight.
The room buzzes with anticipation, a palpable energy that heightens every damn sensation in my body.
Emery spins with sensual grace, her movements fluid, so sexy and raw.
She peels off her clothes with deliberate slowness, and my breath hitches as she gives us teasing glimpses of her creamy skin, a few faded bruises on her ribs.
As Emery dances, I’m sucked into her vortex, the dim lighting dancing across her naked flesh like devilish shadows. Damon and I stroke our cocks above our trousers, mirroring each other's pace. Despite our differences, we both enjoy a cruel, slow demise.
Emery's confidence grows as she watches us, savors us, teases us. She's a fucking temptress, a fallen angel commanding our desires.
My chest growls as Emery steps out of her panties, her bra haphazardly thrown on top of a pile of discarded clothes. I swallow, my heart beating against my ribs as she becomes one with the music, and I swear I’m seeing sounds for the first time in my life.
“That’s enough,” I rasp, and I can feel Damon’s eyes on me, waiting to hear what’s to come.
Emery's chest rises and falls as she stops, staring down at us from several feet away, anticipation brimming.
Smirking, I stare her down. “I want you to lick two fingers.” Her pupils dilate. “And I want you to play with yourself, darling.” My cock throbs as she opens her mouth. “On the floor, little Emery. I want to see you spread those knees.”
She’s not used to me giving orders. I can tell she’s a little stunned. Damon’s not the only man who knows what he wants. I may not be as aggressive in my desires, but I know what makes her pussy cry for me.
Like a good, obedient girl, Emery melts onto the fur rug, every movement slow and hypnotizing. She settles down and slowly spreads her knees, her sex glistening as Damon and I grunt out a curse.
“Like this?” Her voice is so breathy, so fucking airy, it’s like we’re listening to wind seduce us.
She brings two fingers to her lips, her tongue darting out, covering every inch.
A delicious string of saliva stretches as she snakes her hand down between her legs, her calculated gaze shifting between the two of us, never lingering on one man for too long.
She was made for this. She knows how these games are played.
Emery expels a debilitating moan as she brings her index and middle finger to her dripping clit.
My cock damn near splits my zipper in half as it begs to be released.
She rubs herself gently at first, her forest green eyes laced with arousal, and then she adds more pressure, and her legs clench, the tips of her toes digging into the fur pelt—her own little stage.
“Now take those two fingers,” Damon grunts, his jaw tense, “and push them inside your cunt for us.” Emery’s breath hitches, and he adds, “And keep your eyes open. On us. Always on us.”
Emery is excellent at following instructions. She curls her wrist and buries her fingers inside herself, her mouth gaped open, wanton sounds of pleasure melting into the heavy beats of the music.
“More,” she breathes. “I need more.”
Damon smirks, and I mirror his torturous response. “Crawl to us, mami,” he orders, leaning back against the loveseat. “You’re the one that looks hungry now.”
A flash of frustration graces her face, but she doesn’t protest. Shifting to her hands and knees, she crawls toward us, and I stare at her primal beauty as if it were a priceless painting.
In a few short strides, she kneels before us, her gaze flitting between each tempting bulge.
So many options. Which one will she choose?
Biting her lip, Emery reaches for my trousers, her fingers almost shaking as she pulls down my zipper, and my cock springs free. Her eyes widen, a ghost of a grin clips her lips as she releases Damon as well.
So greedy, our girl.
With a look of complete surrender, Emery arches over and takes all of me in her mouth.
I groan, unable to keep silent as she laps and sucks, her left hand stroking Damon’s cock.
Her right hand finds my thick, swollen balls and she rolls them between her fingers, my thighs clenching with each tormenting rotation.
She gasps for breath and pulls away, then moves on to Damon. Through fluttering eyelids, I watch that pretty fucking mouth of hers devour Damon’s cock. His fingers rake through her hair, forcing her to swallow him deeper, choking her, making her taste every inch of him.
As Emery’s lost in her starvation, I meet Damon’s eyes, and he gives me a nod. We’re raising our levels tonight. She deserves to feel us both. She deserves to feel so fucking full.
I push myself off the couch, step out of my trousers, and peel off my sweater, tossing it to the side. Emery pauses, feeling my absence but Damon soothes her, petting her head as I circle her like a desperate vulture.
“Arch for me, love,” I rasp, placing a hand on her back. She flinches at my touch, but then instantly sinks into the demand, her ass perking up as she continues to suck on Damon’s cock. I lean over her, whispering in her ear, “Remember your safe word, little Emery. This might hurt a little.”
She mumbles a moan onto Damon’s flesh as I leave a trail of wet kisses down the spine of her back, my hand caressing her curves until I reach the peak of her ass.
With a light slap, I spit on my fingers and bring them to her sex, massaging and rubbing her desperate little clit.
And then, I move up an inch, the collection of wetness following my trek upstream.
Emery gasps, her head springing up as I plunge one finger into her puckering ass. She cranes her neck, her eyes glossy and wanting as she looks back at me. I smirk at her, pushing the finger deeper inside her.
“More,” she breathes out. “More…”
And so I do.
With two fingers inside, I continue to stimulate Emery’s hole, stretching her open, preparing her. She clenches around my ministrations, and once again, she turns around, her gaze milky and raw as she demands, “More.”
Damon and I exchange a look, and he gives me a nod. Coating my cock with a puddle of her wetness, I rasp, “Tell me if it’s too—”
“I said more,” she hisses, and I almost laugh at her neediness.
Damon gives me a cheeky smirk, and I line myself up, carefully and gently easing into her. Her moan swallows all the other noises in the room, and it’s like a siren is singing.
Her back arches, and Damon strokes her hair, growling, “You’re taking him so well, mami.” He slips a finger into her open mouth, and she sucks on it as I thrust in and out, my cock throbbing at the tightness, at her clenching, and the fucking pleasure of it all.
Just as I feel Emery’s about to come, I give Damon a silent signal, and he snakes his fingers through her hair, pulling her forward, my cock slipping out of her ass.
“Come here,” he grunts, pulling her onto his lap.
Emery’s limp, nearly satisfied body follows Damon’s guidance, and she straddles him. He rolls his cock in his fist, lips crashing against hers in a frenzy, and then he slams her down onto him, nearly splitting her pussy in half.
Emery yelps, throwing her head back as Damon lurches forward, sucking on her taut nipples, his teeth grazing against her skin.
“Ride me, mami,” he groans, slapping her ass. Emery bounces up and down, whimpering and moaning and crying out for release.
Suddenly, in one fluid motion, Damon slides closer to the edge of the couch and stands up, hoisting Emery up in the air. Her fingers grip and scratch at his shoulders as he rocks in and out of her. She reaches behind her, desperately trying to lure me over.
And then I’m there. Standing behind her, my cock grazing against her soaking slit. She pants and moans and curses, begging me to fill her, wanting to be completely consumed.
And I oblige. I give her everything she wants. I will always give her everything she wants. My cock squeezes through her hole, the pressure and tightness and fullness almost too much to handle.
“Fuck,” I groan, my cock suffocating inside her tight little ass.
“Oh my God,” Emery whimpers, subtly bouncing up and down as Damon and I fill every inch of her, as we show her just how good we can make her feel.
I kiss her shoulder, nip at her skin with my teeth, hold her close as we annihilate her. As we make her scream our names.
The pressure builds. Inside all of us. I can feel it through her walls. I can sense it in the noise, in the pants, in the way her body trembles at our unyielding touch. And then we explode.
My cock throbs and rocks and I come inside of her, Damon’s groans matching the octave of mine as he finds his release. But Emery takes the show. She withers and squirms, shaking as she comes undone in our arms.
We collapse onto the fur rug in a state of satisfaction and bliss. We lie there quietly, limbs tangled, breathing heavy and raw as we’re intertwined, connected, united in a way that cannot be replicated.
After a few minutes of silent recuperation, Emery's voice, soft and raspy, bring us back down from the heavens. "I'm hungry."
Damon smirks. “You want to go again?”
Emery laughs—a delightful sound that seems to reverberate the room. She tries to sit up. A slight wince betrays her. "No, I mean hungry for food." Her gaze drifts toward the silk robe hanging in the closet. "I'm going to get us snacks."
"No," I insist, my hand finding hers. "I'll do it. You should stay here and rest."
Emery sighs, her playful demeanor still intact despite the fact we wrecked her.
"I hear movement after trauma is necessary for recovery," she jokes with a mischievous glint.
"I'll be back." She glances at Damon, a sly grin forming.
"And then maybe we can go again." She nods coyly at the unused can of whipped cream. “We still got dessert, right?”
Damon chuckles. “Right.”
As Emery heads toward the closet, her silhouette illuminated, I can’t believe we found ourselves a real-life angel.