Chapter 19 #3
I sigh, and the hand touching B’s scar falls to my chest, rubbing the spot that always aches when I think about him. It doesn’t hurt as bad anymore.
I glance at Seb, whose blue eyes radiate a hint of pain but also understanding. Then, I turn and crawl into B’s lap, straddling his waist and cupping his cheeks. “Baby,” I start, my voice thick with emotion, “do you think I ever got over you?”
He gives a shy shrug, lowering his lids until his long dark lashes fan over his cheeks. “You had Anna…”
I smile. “And I’m so grateful I found her because she was very patient with a broken-hearted girl who was still obsessed with her college hookup.”
B’s eyes snap up to mine, widening. “When you put it like that, we sounded so casual.”
“We never labeled anything. And we didn’t have to. Our relationship was unique, B. We never defined it because we never cared what anyone thought—it was the most beautiful thing about us.”
He smiles widely and tugs me to him, our lips colliding, and I enthusiastically return the kiss with a soft moan.
I shift my hips as B’s cock hardens against my center, pressing deliciously into my clit.
His hands slide up my body, skimming my waist, my breasts, and finally tangling aggressively in my hair.
Seb makes a guttural sound, and we both freeze.
I crane my neck so I can see him over my shoulder.
He’s moved to the edge of the other love seat, his cheeks flushed.
My eyes drop to the erection straining against his sweats.
He’s watching us cautiously but also longingly, his hands balled into fists at his sides.
I give him a questioning look. We haven’t talked about what happened after our last tryst, and I certainly don’t want a repeat of that morning. I swallow and move to climb off B’s lap, but Seb shakes his head.
“Don’t,” he says, his voice cracking over the word. “I mean, I can’t again…not yet.” His Adam’s apple dips with a slow swallow. “But you can.” Seb takes a deep breath and relaxes his hands.
“We don’t—” B starts, worry shining in his eyes, but Seb cuts him off.
“What I mean is. I want you to. Both of you. I mean—” He looks away for a moment. “I’m new to this, okay? I don’t know what I’m doing. Fuck, this is hard.”
Seb looking so flustered is really fucking cute.
“You’re new to group activities?” B says, amused. “Buddy, we’re both aware.”
Seb shoots a glare B’s way, his eyes darkening. “That’s not what I meant, asshole,” he snarks. “I’m new to…everything.”
I frown. “When was the last time you were intimate with someone, Seb?”
“Besides sex? It’s been years,” he confesses, and my eyes widen. “Like I said, my one time was in high school.” I can barely hear him. He grits his teeth. “What I was trying to say is I don’t want you guys to stop. I–I want to watch.”
The blush in his cheeks darkens and spreads down his neck and up to his ears, shading the tips bright red. He turns his head to hide the embarrassment, and I get it. Being vulnerable isn’t his norm.
I give B a wink, stand, and scoot over toward Seb.
He won’t look at me, so I take his large hand in mine, push up his sleeve, and run my fingers over the prominent veins in his forearms. When I reach the edge of the tattoo on his arm, he tenses a little, and I get the impression that he hides his ink for a reason.
I guide his hand, his blue eyes unsure as they rise to mine. I place his palm against the bulge in his pants, applying pressure as I do. He sucks in a breath, his legs spreading wider. I tighten my fingers around his, and his hand instinctively wraps around his dick through the fabric.
“How do you make everything so simple feel so good?” he croaks, and B chuckles softly. “It’s not like I’ve never touched myself, Fi, but, shit, this feels too…” He swallows, his eyes rolling back, and I smile.
Seb’s hand shakes, but he starts moving it over the soft cotton of his gray sweats, hardening his cock further before he finally snakes his fingers under the waistband and pushes down his pants and boxers until his length is free, spiraling with veins and leaking precum.
When I drop my hand with a questioning look, he nods, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he continues to stroke himself, and I turn back to Brantley. His movements mirror Seb’s, his hand thrust into his boxers as he watches us, his hooded hazel eyes glowing in the flickering firelight.
As I climb back into B’s lap, he stops me with gentle hands on my bare shoulders.
“Let me make everything up to you. I know I don’t deserve you, Fiona, but I want to. And I’ll spend every day of the rest of my life earning your forgiveness.”
My fucking heart.
He turns me and pushes me onto the couch next to him. Then he slides to the floor and kneels in front of my parted legs, gazing up at me with so much adoration that I have to look away. He’s almost too intense, and the emotions storming my chest are too much, too soon, twisting and burning me.
Brantley peels my leggings down my legs, taking my colorful socks with them. His fingers trail lightly over the skin of my thighs, and I shiver. He lifts one leg, placing it on his shoulder, and leans forward, his breath wicked and hot through the barrier of my panties.
The heat makes me squirm, and a whine slips through my lips.
He chuckles. “Someone’s needy.”
Seb releases a low groan, and my gaze takes him in. He already looks wrecked, his dark hair falling messily over his forehead and his chest rising and falling with each stroke of his thick cock.
It’s so hot.
I wiggle my ass closer to the edge of the couch.
B presses my clit through my underwear, sending a jolt of pleasure up my thighs and into my stomach. His eyebrows rise, and he smirks. “Jesus, you’re so wet already. I can’t wait to taste you.”
I feel vulnerable in this position—exposed.
It’s the same feeling I pushed away when we fooled around on the tractor, though I did my best to mask it from Seb.
It’s not that I don’t enjoy oral, but I don’t often let it happen spontaneously, and some part of my brain feels self-conscious as I close my eyes.
My mom’s frown of disapproval flashes behind my lids, and I hear her voice telling me that I’m not prepared for this—after all, it’s not like I’ve shaved for almost a week at this point—but I push the intrusive thoughts away.
Who gives a fuck, Fiona? I chide myself. These beautiful boys certainly don’t.
B’s fingers slide my panties to the side and sink into my aching pussy, and I push myself against his hand, welcoming the full feeling.
“More,” I pant.
He smiles and adds another finger, scissoring them open and stretching me wide as he continues to pump them in and out with slow, even movements.
“Put your mouth on her. Please.” Seb’s voice is a husky plea, and B smiles wider, obviously loving this new venture into voyeurism. He pulls down my panties eagerly and leans forward, pulling my clit into his mouth while his fingers still work me over, pushing deeper.
The combination of his hot breath and the cool air caressing my wetness is super erotic, and I moan at the same time that Seb groans obscenely.
He’s tugging his cock, his palm grazing his red mushroom tip, and the sight makes me even needier, pleasure pulsing from my clit and radiating through my whole body.
Brantley ups his efforts, burying his face in my pussy with fervor, sucking, licking, and biting like he’s insatiable.
“Fuck!” I yell, pushing myself up on my elbows and tightening my abs to hold off the impending orgasm. I’m not ready. This feels too fucking good.
B pulls back.
“Whaa..?” I ask, my body and mind in a euphoric stupor.
“Relax, Fi, I’ve got you. I just want to help Bastian out for a minute.”
My eyes widen and meet Seb’s, waiting for his protest. He tenses, his hand slowing. B slides his fingers and the palm of his hand through my slick folds, and I can’t suppress a shiver. Then, he turns and crawls the other direction, reaching for Seb’s cock.
Seb stills and watches B’s large hand grip him tightly and slide up his shaft, smearing my arousal all around his tip.
“Ugh,” Seb gasps. “Shitfuckshitfuck…” Obscenities pour from his mouth as B pumps his hand again, and Seb thrusts toward him. “Stitch, stop.”
B freezes, looking up at Seb, concern knitting his brows.
“You have to stop,” Seb pants. “I’m not going to last.” His blue eyes lock with mine. “I want to come with Fi.”
“Fuck,” B growls. “That’s hot.” He looks down forlornly. “My balls are aching right now, you guys.” He gives Seb another stroke without thinking.
“Goddammit, Michaels.” Seb’s tone is almost feral. “Stop touching me and tongue fuck her. Now.”
Brantley doesn’t need any more direction than that.
He moves back into place and presses his mouth to my hole, spearing me with his tongue and then pulling out to swirl it aggressively around my clit.
His unexpected enthusiasm overwhelms my already frayed nerves, and I buck into his mouth with an animalistic groan.
I lock my thighs around B’s head and curl forward, thrusting my hands into his hair. I must be suffocating him the way I pull him against me, but the pleasurable heat in my pussy has all the control right now.
The orgasm builds quickly and explodes, and I scream B’s name as I start to shudder. Seb grunts loudly, and my eyes fly to his and then drop to his cock. White ropes of cum erupt from his tip, coating his stomach where his shirt has ridden up and hitting his pecs and neck.
The room spins for a moment as the sight alone sends another smaller orgasm pinging through my body—an aftershock of pleasure. And then I fall back to the couch, my fingers releasing B’s hair and one arm covering my face as I try to catch my breath.
“That was amazing,” B whispers harshly. “I just...I can’t. I have to.”
I drop my arm and crack open an eye, watching as Brantley pulls out his cock and strokes it furiously.
I stare, fascinated, and I don’t miss the way that Seb’s satisfied eyes are fixated as well.
It only takes B seconds until he’s groaning with relief, his face red, as he comes into his closed fist, cum covering his hand and dripping over the tops of his fingers.
Then he falls back onto the carpet with a content sigh.
For some reason, that strikes me as funny, and I start to giggle. To my surprise, Seb chuckles too.
“What? What’re you guys laughing about?” B asks, looking between us.
“That was just very on brand for you, B,” I say as my laughter fades. “Never want to be left out of anything.”
He pulls his shirt over his head and uses it to wipe the sticky mess from his hand. “Laugh all you want, but my balls have never been edged that bad in my life. It was jack off or die.”
Seb barks a laugh as he also pulls his shirt off and uses it to wipe cum from his abs.
“This isn’t really how I expected this talk to go,” I mutter as I pull on my panties and leggings. “But I’m not mad about it.”
B sits up and reaches for the front of my tank top, pulling me into an unexpectedly chaste kiss that flutters my stomach.
I cup his smooth face and lengthen the kiss with a quiet moan.
He smells like…shaving cream? How did I not notice it earlier?
I must’ve been distracted by the emotional fog of the moment.
“Where did you get a razor, B?”
Brantley’s mouth kicks up in a half smile. “Bastian got us each one on his run into town. I thought I should finally shave.”
I look at Seb over B’s shoulder. “You guys have razors? I want one!” I nod at my legs indignantly. “I’ve been all up in my head about my stupid hairy legs.”
B pushes up my legging, running his hand along my calf. I stare at him, my mouth falling open. “It’s not even spikey anymore,” he says with a shrug. “Why do girls worry about this stuff?”
Seb shrugs.
My face is on fire, and I snatch my leg away from him with a huff. “Did Anna care about you shaving your legs?” he asks.
“Well, no, but she’s a girl.”
B shakes his head, mock sadness in his eyes. “I tell you, Bastian. The double standard these days is hurtful.”
Seb nods with a smug grin on his face. “It really is. Next thing you know, you’ll be telling me she was more emotionally available too.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, she absolutely was.” I stand and walk around the couch. “Now, I’m going to go take a really long bath, and I’m borrowing one of those razors.”