38 #5
Her lashes flutter, lips parting just enough for a shaky breath to leave them, and I can’t suppress the rough moan that leaves my mouth in response, especially as I feel a tendril of her pleasure sneaking through the bond.
In the water, my hand moves to press over the tent in my briefs firmly, desperately needing to relieve the uncomfortable throbbing there, and I can’t stop myself from murmuring, “Just how wet is she, Tate?” My voice comes out far huskier than intended.
“Dripping,” he growls, starting to move that finger back and forth inside of her, ravenous eyes trying to read her face. But her expression is still a mask of no emotion, and I can see the frustration in him in response, his burning need to get a reaction from her and know he’s pleasuring her well.
So that’s when I decide to tell him, “You’re doing good, Tate. She likes that, don’t you, Love?”
Her jaw tightens, and my lips twitch into a faint smirk when she can’t deny it.
Tate only confirms what I already knew when he sinks his teeth into his lower lip, darkened eyes flicking between the sight under the water and her face. “She just clenched around me.”
Closing my eyes for a beat, they roll back in my head as I imagine that wet heat squeezing around my fingers instead. But they’re quick to open again, not wanting to miss a second of this perfect moment. “Push another finger inside her. Stretch her open for us.”
He obeys without hesitation, desperate to make our girl feel good, rapture charging up my insides like a live wire at the view before me when another thick finger disappears inside her sweet pussy. I watch the way she takes them, imagining my cock there instead.
Fingers moving in and out, hand shifting about, I can tell he’s searching for her G-spot, so I open my mouth to tell him what that might feel like—but the need is dismissed when Ezla’s divine moan kisses my ears and Tate mutters, “There it is. That the spot, Havoc, baby?”
As if ashamed, her eyelids glide closed.
Then she nods, the action barely discernible.
“Mhmmm . . . fuck yeah. You like that?” he rasps.
As though it’s easier than saying it aloud, I hear that velvety caress enter my mind for the first time:
Yes.
“Oh gods,” Alby mewls at the same time Cooper’s neck extends as he tips his head back like he’s savouring something delectable, confirming they all heard her the same as me.
“Oh my fucking god. I’m in paradise. Heaven,” Tiger moans, hand still moving under the water, creating ripples across the surface.
“Fuck her on your fingers faster, Tate,” Cooper instructs with undeniable lust soaking through each deep word.
Tate’s other hand slides to her inner thigh and spreads her further open for our viewing pleasure as his fingers pump inside of her more rapidly, encouraging Ezla’s breasts to move up and down faster, her breath hitching as the prettiest flush I’ve ever seen crowds her skin.
Groaning, I rub my palm up and down my length through my underwear, spine tingling with the promise of release.
“Good girl, Love . . . that’s a good fucking girl—let him take care of you. ”
A rumble vibrates through Tate . . . before he licks a stripe right up her neck, then bites down on her jawline, and I feel everything in me tense, prepping for relief, as his thumb moves to stimulate her clit while his other fingers continue thrusting steadily, demanding her orgasm mercilessly and drawing another sweet-as-sin moan from her, those mismatched eyes rolling back.
Then her spine arches, and I lose it as she comes with a hoarse cry.
My orgasm tears through me, cock jumping and spurting cum in the confines of my briefs. The cords of my neck stretch taut as I bring the back of my hand up to my mouth to muffle my groan, the other pressing down over myself to prolong the pleasure.
“Ez!” Tiger’s body jerks in the water, and I know he’s found release himself, while poor Alby looks as aroused as he is mortified, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s just done the same without even touching himself.
Might be a bit awkward, but I don’t want him to feel bad about that, so I might try and talk to him about this later.
“Stunning, Vengeance,” Cooper breathes lowly.
Tate is simply lost, it seems, his lips starting to move sloppily over our Bonded’s neck like he’s trying to devour her, and she appears momentarily too blissed out to shove him away.
He only allows his mouth to leave her when he pulls his fingers from her pussy, immediately sticking them in his mouth and sucking and licking them clean with a manic, dangerous look in his eyes that I haven’t seen to this extent since the first time I met him.
“Mine, mine, mine, mine . . .” he mutters over and over again, burying his face back in her neck, hands returning to her body to slide all over it, getting more and more vigorous with each pass.
My senses sharpen even though I’m still weak and trembling with aftershocks, vision narrowing as I watch the interaction carefully, making sure he’s not completely gone and Ezla is comfortable.
“Ours,” Cooper corrects, his own eyes slitting, and I shoot him a warning glance.
Tate only grunts, running a hand over our Bonded’s side and planting wet kisses everywhere he can.
Okay. That went better than I thought it would.
I can never be too sure he won’t just wake up one day and decide it was a mistake to accept sharing his obsession, and I don’t want him blowing up and attempting to steal her away.
Our Bonded goes rigid then.
And I know this is over.
“Enough.”
Tate growls darkly, hugging her against him.
“Enough, Tate,” I repeat Ezla’s command firmly.
Panting aggressively, he doesn’t move for a beat.
Then, ever so slowly, he pulls back, the intensity of his stare still boring into her, unwavering. The tremble of his limbs as he removes his hands from her body tells me how hard this is for him, as if he has to exert herculean strength to keep his limbs in check.
Again, silence wraps around the room.
Before my brother, like always, breaks the tension with a chipper tone on the most random subject possible, and we gradually fall back into conversation, leaving Ezla to stare blankly at the ceiling once more.
But no matter how many times I try to push through the bond to check in on her, no matter how many times I think, Are you okay, Love . . . ?
She does not answer.