24. Elle #3
Still, Sterling stays silent. Stan walks in anyway. He drops into the chair beside the bed—Sterling’s chair—and makes himself comfortable. I glance at Sterling, my heart thudding loud in my chest. I don’t pull away. Neither does he.
Stan rests his chin on his fist, eyes on us. “Please. Continue. Don’t let me interrupt.”
Sterling looks down at me. His expression’s still stoic but so much more intense.
“Sterling…” I whisper, breathless. “It’s okay.”
His hand presses into my waist. “You want him to watch?”
My lips part. My chest rises. I feel the answer, thick in my throat. But I don’t speak it aloud.
Stan doesn’t wait for anything. The chair creaks as he leans forward, inching closer, like he’s already been invited.
The air turns heavy. Heat soaks into my skin. And then Sterling kisses me again. This time harder, rougher. A kiss with teeth. A kiss that dares me to want more. I want impossibly more of him. My leg hooks over him. My body moves to fit his.
Stan speaks up. “Damn, Elle,” he drawls, his grin audible. “If I knew you were that flexible, I would’ve given you more of a workout.”
A breathy laugh breaks out of me before I can stop it. I bite down on it against Sterling’s lips. He groans as his hand clamps around my bottom. “You encourage him,” he mutters.
“It’s not intentional,” I manage to say.
Sterling leans back to look at me, those silver eyes so stormy. He wraps my leg around his waist, forcing me to feel every solid inch of him. My breath hitches before a longing moan slips out of my quivering lips.
“You wanna give him a show?” he whispers. “Fine.”
“Oh,” Stan chimes in, cheerful as ever. “This is getting good. One sec—” The chair groans as he leans in. “Perfect view.”
Sterling angles toward him, glaring. “Shut up, Stan.”
“I mean, I could shut up…” Stan pretends to consider it, chin in hand. “But we all know our good girl likes being watched. So I’m here for moral support. Filthy, shameless moral support.”
Sterling exhales hard, teeth clenched. His fingers flex against my thighs before he lifts them.
His mouth finds my collarbone. He kisses down until my skin burns beneath his breath.
He lies on his back and hovers me over him.
He doesn’t need to ask. He knows the answer.
My body tells him everything—how I lower myself to meet him, how I whisper his name when I sink down.
I glance at Stan. He watches openly. His legs are spread. His eyes are dark with heat. There’s nothing shy about him.
Sterling must feel the way Stan’s taken my attention. He drags his mouth back to mine, kissing me deeper and harder, like he’s staking a claim. My hands slide under his shirt, tracing warm skin and hard muscle. I can feel his restraint snapping at the seams.
“God,” Stan mutters from the chair. “You’re gonna kill him, Elle.”
Sterling breaks the kiss long enough to speak. His tone is flat, directed at Stan. “You’re next on the actual kill list if you keep talking.”
“Oh no,” Stan jokes. “As long as Elle’s the one killing me, I’ll die happy.”
I laugh again, soft and airy, as light as I feel. I can’t help it around them.
Sterling narrows his eyes at me. “You think he’s funny?”
I press a kiss to his jaw. “I think…” My fingers thread into his hair. “You’re jealous.”
“I’m furious,” he hisses. “It’s not the same.”
“You’re possessive,” I whisper into his mouth.
Sterling’s hands slither under my thigh, sliding more of himself into me in one smooth motion. “And do you mind that, Elle?”
I don’t mind. I crave it.
The room’s filled with filthy sounds the next second.
My moans. Stan’s groans near me. Sterling’s breath under me.
I love the way his mouth claims every sound I make.
I love the slow, controlled rhythm of his hips.
I love the way he moves, measured and drawn-out, but with an edge to it, like he’s always a breath away from losing control.
“You two are unreal,” Stan whispers lower now. “Silver’s out here brooding like he’d take a bullet for you. And you’re as gorgeous as a goddess, Elle.”
Sterling grits his teeth. “You still talking?”
“I’m always talking,” Stan replies. “But if you need me to shut up, Elle would have to come over here and make me.”
Sterling growls. I giggle. He grabs my jaw gently, turning my face back to him. His voice is deep and demanding. “Eyes on me, Elle.”
The shift in Sterling is immediate. The laughter dies on my lips, swallowed by the heat rising off his skin. He feels like fire, and I melt into it. I nod, dizzy and drunk on him. “Yes, Sterling.”
He kisses me again. Slower this time, with all of him, and all of me. It’s just us in this moment. Nothing left but what’s already burning sultry heat between us.
Sterling kisses me like he’s seconds from finishing. His arms are solid around my waist, his mouth still on mine. He holds back. He does that when he needs to think. But we’re past thinking now.
But then the bed dips at my back. Heat moves closer. Stan slips in, settling behind me. I can hear that grin in his voice. “Didn’t think I’d get this jealous watching someone else get all those sweet sounds of yours, Elle.”
Sterling stiffens. I do too. Stan’s hand brushes over my calf.
I meet Sterling’s steely eyes. But I don’t pull away from Stan. “Should I wait my turn?” Stan asks. “Or should I step in now and show him how it’s done?”
I can feel Sterling’s entire body go taut. Shivers run down my spine.
Stan breathes against my neck, and then his lips brush the shell of my ear. “There she is,” he whispers. “The good girl who loves being between us.”
I gasp. My hands twist in Sterling’s hair. He lifts his head at me. “You want this?” Sterling asks, studying me with his stunning silver eyes.
My head moves before my mouth does. It’s an undeniable nod.
That’s all they need. Sterling continues thrusting up.
I groan, straightening my spine and placing my palms on his beating chest. Behind me, Stan moves closer.
His hands spread my bottom. His tongue slowly licks between my cheeks, slick with his warm spit.
His fingertip prods. I tense up. It scares me—how deep Stan wants to go—but I want it anyway.
I want both of them however they want to have me.
Under me, Sterling keeps pushing in. My body trembles, but I hold his gaze, even as my brows knit when Stan’s palms spread my cheeks. His tongue feels so soothing, especially when his finger’s stretching me.
Sterling spreads me wider for Stan. We know what Stan’s about to do. Sterling lets it happen. I want him to.
It feels like I’ve been moaning for hours when Stan positions himself behind me. I lose my breath at the feel of his crown seeking warmth from behind. The stretch makes me bite down a pained groan. But I take the stinging ache he gives me, while Sterling kisses the sounds from my lips.
They give me time to settle and breathe through it. I’m impossibly stretched, but it’s the most fascinating feeling. My body’s close to its limit, yet I can’t get enough.
Soon, they move together. They push into me, front and back, filling every space inside me in rhythm. My body melts. My mouth opens. My cries carry. I fall back against Stan’s shoulder. He kisses behind my ear, palm sliding to my tensing middle.
“You’re burning up,” Stan murmurs. “We gotta cool you down.”
“No,” Sterling whispers with viciousness, cupping my jaw and tilting it so he can claim my mouth again. “She needs more.”
I don’t argue. I can’t. Because they’re right. Both of them.
They give me everything. Their bodies. Their words. Their hearts.
It’s more honest this way. More intense.
Stan whispers filth against my ear while Sterling devours my lips. They move around me like I’m the center of a ritual neither of them wants to end. And I give them everything in return. Every breath. Every sound. Every part of me that can take them.
Until I’m gone. And what’s left is only heat and pleasure.
Sterling kisses me harder. He growls against my lips. He’s done pretending he has any restraint left, and I want every bit of what’s breaking through him. All of his hunger. All of his need. All of him.
His hands grip beneath my thighs and lift me higher before bringing me down. It sends a pulse straight through my core.
Behind me, Stan presses closer. His lips press against the curve of my neck, his rhythm wild and shallow, trying to be careful. He can’t go too deep—not where he’s thrusting—but what he gives still makes my whole body tremor.
I moan into Sterling’s mouth. It slips out before I can even think.
Stan whines, his voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s what we wanna hear. Keep makin’ that sound for us.”
Stan’s hands go to my waist. I feel the rough pads of his fingers, feel the shiver that runs down my spine as he drags his palm over the dip of my back, enough to make me squirm.
Stan’s scent fills my nostrils. Sweet smoke and scorched sugar. Sterling’s scent is something else entirely, clean and cold. Sterling’s the cool air before lightning strikes. They surround me. Sugar and steel. Smoke and storm.
Sterling breaks the kiss to look at me. His eyes are molten silver, so intense with desire and fury, as if he’s caught between tearing Stan’s hands off of me, or demanding he go harder. Stan’s movements command my body, to take in both him and Sterling, over and over.
Our breaths mingle. My breathy moans, Stan’s pleased hums, Sterling’s strained groans. We make beautiful music together.
“Elle,” Sterling whispers softly, staring into my eyes like I’m all he sees, and that’s all it takes.
My head tips back against Stan’s chest, my breath hitching as their bodies move in erratic rhythm. Sterling holds my hips tighter, Stan coaxing me to take even more of him. Sterling thrusts up hard, catching that spot inside me, and I cry out, broken and wild.