Chapter 17
KAS
The first time I was in a room alone with Winnie Darling, she tried to use me and my body for sex to get beneath Peter Pan’s skin.
Pan had always had the same rule: we don’t fuck the Darlings.
Darling knew how to twist us to her will.
She still does.
Which is why her hand is now creeping up my thigh, edging dangerously close to my cock. Just the feel of her attention, even through a layer of clothing, is enough to send me over the edge.
My heart kicks up in my chest, thumping hard in my head.
There’s a tightening in my gut that feels a lot like a knot that needs to be undone.
And only burying myself inside Darling will loosen that knot.
She applies pressure, several fingers brushing up against my thickening cock.
I adjust, winding my arm around her shoulders and Bash leans back, checking me.
Most days, I let him take the lead because he loves to tie her up, and she loves to be tied up, and I’m just happy to oblige them both.
But not tonight.
I slip my hand beneath the weight of her hair, sinking into the warmth that has gathered at the nape of her neck. She shivers at my attention and then moves closer, stroking me through my pants.
Fuck, I’m hard in seconds and impatience for her and her body is zinging up my spine.
The movie is still playing on the flat screen TV, but I’m barely seeing it now, my gaze unfocused, my attention turned inward at the considerable control needed not to rush Darling.
She grabs hold of me and squeezes and I lay my head back on the couch and close my eyes.
More. More.
She climbs up on her knees and straddles me, pivoting her hips to bring the heat of her nearer, and I sense my brother edging closer for a piece of her, too.
Darling wraps her arms around me and brings her mouth to mine. She’s persistent, hungry, and our tongues meet too quickly, so the only place for us to go is down.
My hands sink to her ass, driving her against me and she follows the movement, chasing her own heat.
I’m buzzing for more when Bash grabs her by the back of the neck and steals her away leaving me empty and rock hard.
He falls back against the couch, Darling on top of him.
She’s wearing one of her favorite t-shirt dresses, and the edge rides up, exposing the lace covered globe of her ass.
I take a handful and squeeze and she pushes back against me as Bash groans into her mouth.
My brother and I have shared most things in our long life, but none of it compares to sharing Darling. And now that we share the Neverland Life Shadow, every sensation seems to be heightened, every need and desire doubled.
I wrench her panties aside, exposing the wet heat of her center. She moans. Rolls her hips. I let my fingers slide closer to her opening and she breaks away from Bash just long enough to say, “Yes, Kas, please.”
My brother fumbles with his belt, impatient to get it off.
“Beg a little more, Darling,” I tell her.
“I want you inside of me.”
Teasing her, I sink a finger in and then slide back out, the wetness so loud, it makes me growl with need.
“Fuck,” she purrs and rocks back, looking for more.
“Which hole?” I ask her.
“I don’t care,” she says and then kisses her way up my brother’s neck as he pulls himself free.
“We’ll make the decision for you,” Bash says, lining himself up at her opening as I adjust, lining up at her ass.
We’ve been here like this many times before, in every position imaginable, and I never get tired of chasing her, filling her up.
We have no fairy salve, no lubrication, but I have enough magic to make it easy for her and for me as I sink into her tight hole.
I meant to take it slow, to savor her, but patience is hard to come by and within seconds, I’m fully inside.
Bash and I find a rhythm with Darling captured between us on the couch.
A storm brews on the TV screen and the room darkens.
“Fuck, Darling, you are dripping wet,” my brother says from beneath her.
She rocks her hips back, meeting us both all the way to the base.
“I like…” She tenses and then sucks in a breath. “Oh god. I’m close.”
“You hear that, Kas,” Bash says. “She can barely contain herself.”
I wind her hair around my hand and yank her head back, planting a rough kiss on the curve of her neck. “She likes being filled up by the two of us. Don’t you, Darling?”
“Yes,” she says around a pant. “Don’t stop. Please.”
But the back door opens and shuts with a thud, and the air pressure in the house changes and the second Peter Pan and Vane are in the room, hunger is filling the air like a sandstorm, threatening to bury us all.
Pan sits in the chair across from the couch and slouches, his head propped in the palm of his hand.
Vane crosses the room. “Winnie Darling,” he says and grabs her by the throat, bending her up to him. “Such a pretty whore getting fucked on the couch, but I see one thing missing.”
I feel her tighten around me, sensing what’s to come.
“What?” she asks.
“One open hole.”