47. Callie
CHAPTER 47
CALLIE
M iles slides closer, leans in, and kisses me, letting me know that all hesitation is gone. He ravages my mouth like I’m water and he’s just crawled across the desert.
As we kiss, a hand cups my breast, and I gasp into Miles’s mouth. He pulls back only enough to lay kisses at the edge of my lips, my cheek, my jaw, my neck. While he’s doing that, the damp heat of another mouth covers my breast through the fabric of my top, and I send silent thanks to Marissa for packing these pajamas.
Another rush of wetness surges between my legs, and Miles moves to join his brother, each of them claiming a breast with his mouth, both heads bowed over me, their hands stroking my thighs, rubbing my back, their fingers sliding through my hair. It’s all too much—so much sensation, all at once. It’s incredible.
A memory of Ana encouraging me to have this exact type of experience comes to mind. I can’t believe this is actually happening; I thought this type of thing was pure fantasy that only existed in smutty books.
Reaching between the men, I undo the buttons on the front of my shirt so that it falls open. Their mouths barely miss a beat as they cover my bare skin, quickly clamping onto my nipples, licking, sucking, even biting.
“Oh my god, that feels so good.”
Max looks up at me, his lips still wrapped around my hardened peak. “That’s good, because we’re just getting started.”
Miles cups my breast in his palm, holding it like it’s a cherished possession as his teeth drag lightly over its tip, sensations shooting deep into my belly and straight down to my pussy.
“Oh my god, yes. More of that, please.” I had no idea breast play could ever feel like this.
While still tending to my chest, Max slips his fingers under the elastic of my shorts, then inside my panties, his fingers extending into my wetness. “Oh, Callie.” He sighs against my breast as those fingers slide through my slickness, before zeroing in on the spot that feels the best.
Men who’ve had their hands in my pants before have made it obvious their goal was to rush to an endgame that would bring them satisfaction, but Max is entirely focused on my pleasure. He presses my clit and rubs over it with a tenderness that tugs at my heart.
As Max turns his focus there, Miles moves on to my other breast, giving the nipple the same treatment with his teeth, then sucking it hard into his mouth, and something spirals up inside me with a power I’m not expecting.
I grab for Miles’s shoulder as an orgasm overtakes me. Max keeps rubbing, and I cry out as both men feather my cheeks with tender kisses. I feel cherished like I’ve never felt before, and it cracks my heart open in a way I’m helpless to prevent.
“You’re even more beautiful when you come,” Miles murmurs as I recover. He presses a kiss to my flushed cheek, and then my lips.
“That felt so good.”
“Only the first happy ending of many more to come tonight,” Max says, his fingers still teasing my folds.
Is he implying that he thinks they can give me more than one orgasm? I’ve heard that other women are capable of multiples in one night, but it’s never happened for me.
Double the men, double the pleasure? I’m starting to sound like Ana.
Max and Miles don’t give me much time to be in my head. Together, they slip my shirt from my arms and start to slide my shorts over my hips.
Miles bends to lay a line of soft kisses from hip to hip, and if I weren’t already cushioned on the bed, I might swoon at the sweetness.
Of course, Rick was nothing special in the bedroom, but I wasn’t a virgin before him, and I’ve never been with men like this. They make me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. Like the only woman.
Once my shorts are off, they kiss their way back up my thighs. As their heads start to descend over the place where I’ve never been wetter, I stop them. “I shouldn’t be the only one who’s naked.”
I’m afraid they might feel uncomfortable, especially Miles, but he pulls off his shirt faster than his brother, and reaches for his belt. No wonder—that erection can’t be comfortable being confined.
The men are thoughtful enough to pace themselves so that I can watch them both. Max goes slowly, while Miles makes quick work of removing his pants, treating me to the spectacle of him in snug midnight blue boxer briefs that have me drooling over his long, muscular thighs.
When he pushes his underwear down, my mouth goes dry, and I can hardly believe my eyes at the thickness of his cock.
Seeing that my mouth has fallen open, he grins as he wraps his hand around his length and tugs, making the beast even longer. Even though I’m intimidated, I can’t help but reach for him.
“Can I …?”
He kneels on the bed, his cock bobbing up to his stomach. I curl my hand around it the best I can and stroke it slowly, up, then down, its skin like velvet.
A sound draws my eyes back to Max, who’s unzipping his pants. His briefs are white and contain an equally impressive bulge. When he unleashes it, I find that this is another way the men are identical, though I’m sure there are differences, and I’m looking forward to finding them.
Without letting go of Miles, I gesture to Max, who kneels on the other side of me, so I can grip them both, or try to. Will I be able to please them both? Can I handle this much man?
I manage to stroke them, and as I get coordinated, I start to go faster, but Miles stills my hand.
“This isn’t about us. Lie back.” There’s an authoritative edge to his voice that I’ve never heard before, and I like it.
When I do as he says, he again kisses his way up my inner thigh, much quicker this time, a destination in his sights. He spreads my legs and lies down between them, his face right there, inches away. When he looks up at me, his eyes are dark and hooded, sending a shiver of anticipation rippling through me.
“You’re so wet for us.” He dips his finger inside me first, but quickly follows with his tongue, a gentle press, then a thick swipe that makes me wetter still, when I was already gushing.
A couple of men in my past have had their mouths on me, but it’s quickly evident that they didn’t know what they were doing. Miles knows exactly what he’s doing, and it’s not long before he has to anchor my hips with his hands, because I’m writhing on the bed, shocked as he builds up the sensations inside me again.
Meanwhile, Max, who’s lying beside me wearing only a devilish grin, takes my hand and draws one of my fingers into his mouth, sucking on it, tickling it with his tongue. It’s a wild feeling, and god, he’s so gorgeous, his playful eyes dancing as he watches me slowly come undone.
When Miles wraps his lips around my clit, my back arches and my toes curl and I call out his name. “Oh, god, Miles, I’m going to come again!”
He flicks his tongue back and forth over the little nub, and I go flying over the edge into a climax even more satisfying than the first one, which itself had felt like a release of days’ worth of pent-up feelings.
Miles smiles up at me, and my mind brings a memory forward of how I first knew him, the grunting grump in my yoga class. Now, he’s intimately acquainted with my most private of spots, and just made me lose control.
As I try to get my breath back, Miles moves up beside me, brushing hair back from my cheek.
“That was so good,” I tell him.
“Yeah, it was. You taste better than all three of those desserts combined.”
I’m sure I’d be blushing if my face weren’t already flushed with pleasure.
Miles kisses me, one hand stroking over my stomach and chest, while the other continues to play with strands of my hair.
When his lips break from mine, I whisper, “I want to make you come, too.”
“Be patient. We have all night.”
My eyes go wide. All night?
Miles kisses me one last time before he pushes himself up. When I sit up, Max is waiting in one of the chairs, his cock still erect, jutting proudly. He should be proud. My god, these men are stunning.
“Come sit on my lap,” he says.