Chapter 23 #3
I reached for his shaft. He groaned as I fisted him, then let out a long breath, his body relaxing as I slid my hand up and down his length.
I took my time, getting him ready, watching his face for any sign he wasn’t okay as I jerked his cock.
When I finally slipped a finger into his back hole, he let out a sharp gasp, and his head fell back against the pillow.
“Is this okay?” I questioned.
“Yeah.” His hips pushed back slightly against my hand. “More.”
I added a second finger and worked him slowly and carefully until he was writhing under my touch. His erection was hard against his stomach, and his gasps were coming fast. “Jase … please …”
“Please, what?”
“Please fuck me.”
I pulled my fingers out and slicked myself, the cool gel a shock against my heated skin. I moved over him, bracing my weight on my arms. He looked up at me, his eyes wide and dark.
“Ready?” I whispered.
He nodded, his hands coming up to grip my arms. “Yeah, do it.”
I guided myself to him, pressing against his puckered rim. I waited, my eyes searching his. He gave a small nod.
I pushed.
The feeling was beyond anything. The tight squeeze, the incredible heat of him, the way his body opened and then held me.
A broken sound tore from my throat. Throwing his head back, he cried out and dug his nails into my arms. I slid into him slowly until I was buried as deep as I could go, and our bodies were pressed together.
I stopped, trying not to move. “Dylan …”
“Move,” he begged “Please, Jase, move.”
So I did.
The first few times were slow and careful, letting us both get used to the feeling of me inside him and him taking me.
But with each push of my hips, the rhythm found itself, growing deeper and more sure.
Sensation took over, the slide of his sweat-slick skin under my hands, the choked sounds he made with every thrust, the intense heat tightening around me and pulling me in.
Then my gaze fell on Faye.
She wasn’t just watching anymore. Her hand had slipped inside her panties, her fingers moving in slow, firm circles against herself.
Her head was tilted back against the chair, her lips parted, and her eyes half closed yet fixed on us, on the place where we were joined.
Seeing her like that, lost in her own pleasure as she watched us, sent a wave of pure pleasure straight through my core.
It made every thrust feel stronger, more right.
“Look at her,” I grunted.
Dylan’s eyes flicked to the chair. “Fuck,” he breathed, his hips pushing back to meet my next drive. “She’s—”
“I know,” I cut him off, driving into him harder. My control was slipping. “You feel … God, D, you feel …”
I couldn’t finish. Words wouldn’t come. All I could do was feel the mounting pressure and the slick rub while watching Faye’s hand move faster, her moans coming in sharp little gasps. It was all too much. I was going to fall over the edge.
Dylan gasped, his hand moving between us to stroke himself. “I’m close.”
I was right there with him, on the edge of exploding deep inside him, but I didn’t want to fall off it. Not yet. Not without her.
With a strength I didn’t know I had, I buried myself deep inside him and stilled my hips. A rough, frustrated sound tore from his throat.
“What?” he panted. His eyes, confused and desperate, flew open to meet mine.
I didn’t answer him. I turned my head toward the chair, my vision hazy with need. “Faye,” I called.
Her hand stilled. Her heavy-lidded eyes fixed on me.
“Get over here,” I told her.
A slow, wicked smile spread across her lips. She uncurled from the chair and stood. She walked to the side of the bed, her eyes traveling over Dylan’s body beneath me, over where we were joined.
She reached out and ran her fingers through my sweat-dampened hair. “You called?”
“I’m not done,” I managed to grit out, the effort of holding still making my entire body tremble. “We’re not done.”
Dylan understood then. He looked from me to Faye, a new hunger flashing in his eyes. “Yeah.” His hand came up to cup the back of my neck, holding me to him. “We’re not.”
“Then finish,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to where our bodies met.
I looked down at my stepbrother. His eyes were locked on mine, and I saw his slight, desperate nod.
I let go.
With a few more deep thrusts, I buried myself in him and held there as my climax ripped through me, blinding and all-consuming. It pulled a raw, shattered sound from my throat as I pulsed into him.
I collapsed forward, dropping my weight on him, with my face pressed into the sweaty curve of his neck. We were both shaking.
“That was so hot,” Faye breathed, her fingertips tracing along my sweaty back.
I leaned up a bit and looked at her. She climbed onto the bed and knelt beside Dylan’s head. Bending down, she kissed him, deep and filthy, while I stayed buried inside him, feeling every shift of his body and every muffled groan he made against her mouth.
When she broke the kiss, she looked at me, her eyes dark. “What do you want?”
“You,” I said. “Him. Everything.”
She nodded as if I’d given her the only answer she’d accept. “I want him too.” She moved and straddled his hips. I pulled out of him to make room, and we both groaned at the separation. Seeing my cum drip from his asshole was indescribably satisfying.
I kissed the back of her neck, then her shoulder, as she lowered herself onto him, taking him inside her in one smooth, relentless motion.
I wrapped my arms around her, my hands finding her breasts, then skimming down her stomach to where she and Dylan were connected. As my fingers slid through her slit, straight for her clit, she began to move on top of Dylan. I was still hard, still aching, and I ground against the curve of her ass.
Dylan’s hands rested on her hips, guiding her pace, and his eyes locked on mine over her shoulder.
“Jase,” Faye moaned, her head falling back against my chest.
“Right here,” I promised, my voice rough in her ear. I kept touching her, driving her higher, as Dylan thrust into her from below. “Let go. Come for us.”
It was all the permission she needed. A tremor ran through her entire body just before she cried out—a sharp, shattered sound that wasn’t my name or Dylan’s, just pure release.
It pushed Dylan over the edge right after.
He shouted and pumped his release into her as he held her hips flush against his.
The aftershocks were still rippling through her when I gently turned her face toward mine and claimed her mouth as she came down from her high.
Faye got up and grabbed a tissue from the nightstand. Dylan lay there, eyes closed, breathing heavily. I collapsed beside him.
“I’m going to start the shower. Don’t fall asleep,” she instructed, then turned and headed to the bathroom, leaving Dylan and me alone.
I turned my head to look at him. He was already watching me, a familiar grin on his face.
“So,” he began, his voice hoarse. “That happened.”
A laugh burst out of me. “Yeah. That happened.”
He reached over, his hand finding mine on the bed between us, and gave it a brief, firm squeeze. No more words were needed. We lay there, holding hands, listening to the shower start up, completely and utterly happy.