24. Carter
TWENTY-FOUR
CARTER
If Tyson can read my thoughts, Jasper is the expert at knowing my body.
One look was all he needed to know how worked up I was, but even with Tyson’s warnings, I’m playing with fire, desperate for the madness we create together.
At first, I was terrified that intimacy would be the last thing I’d ever feel comfortable with, but as Jasper stares at me from his knees, and Tyson’s dark eyes burn me with intensity, my body is more alive than it’s been in ages.
Every single nerve ending is sparking, each passing second leading me closer to a fire that will be hard to extinguish once we get going, but just before the flames lick my skin, I’ll succumb to the very thing I crave – euphoria.
“Take it all off,” Tyson orders, and from his place at my feet, Jasper smiles up at me, both of us smirking as we successfully played dirty enough to get Tyson on board with our mischief.
Back in Jersey, we’d work each other up slowly, waiting for Tyson to cave in and join us, like a little game we played unbeknownst to him.
Those memories alone remind me that I’m making the right choices, and am back where I truly belong – with them.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Jasper hums, his breath tickling my thighs as he stands me up and strips my leggings off in one swipe, the black panties quickly following suit.
It’s been a long time since he’s seen me fully naked, only Tyson having that opportunity in the shower, but he doesn’t miss a beat, his gaze trailing along every inch of my skin like he’s memorizing each millimeter of my frame.
This is as vulnerable as I can get, showing off my scarred, bruised, and pieced-back-together body, but Jasper acts as if this is nothing new, his gentle touch stripping the clothes I use as armor off in a hurry.
In a swift motion, he lifts me off my feet, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he presses his lips to mine, while my hands find solace in the roots of his hair.
My breathing is accelerated, my heart thrashing against my chest, but the second my back crashes against the table, I scream out in pleasure, already on the edge of oblivion as I know exactly what’s coming.
Jasper takes a step back, leaving me on display in the middle of the kitchen, and I feel both sets of eyes raking over my body, goosebumps breaking out along every corridor of my frame.
I’m an art project, fit for them to admire as they please, but for the first time in a very long time, I’m not scared of what’s looking back at them.
Yes, I’ve been tortured, and have the scars to prove it, but as I search their eyes, I see nothing but admiration, love, and most of all, hunger.
Finally, I’m realizing that shame is just another form of torture, one that takes a stranglehold over survivors.
I’ll never be ashamed of my body again, and that credit goes solely to my boys, who look like starving men, even amidst the chaos littered atop my skin.
“Well, are you just going to eye-fuck me, or will one of you be using the cock perched between your legs to get the job done?” I snark, and the frustration in my voice can only be attributed to the level of desperation I’m willing to go to in order to feel them inside of me again.
It’s been too fucking long since sexual acts felt good, and I’ll be damned if they get off without even laying a finger on – or in – me.
“Watch it, Carter. You know what I like to do with that sassy little mouth,” Tyson says, his calloused hands cupping both my breasts roughly, a sharp inhale stinging in my chest as he tweaks my nipples into stiff peaks.
“God, I’ve missed the taste of your sweet pussy, Principessina,” Jasper whispers against my skin, prying my legs apart while he drops to his knees again, his breath hot on my clit before he dives in like he’s on death row and is receiving his chosen final meal.
The way he ravages my body should be considered criminal, an offense that requires the highest of punishments, except I’d sacrifice myself along hot coals just to keep him perfectly planted between my thighs, the ecstasy almost too much to bear as my chest rises and falls in tune with his licks, nibbles, and sucks on my most sensitive place.
“Jasper, I’m so fucking close,” I breathe, my thighs instinctually clenching around his face as I buck my hips, the sensation stealing every rational thought I possess during the chase of the sweetest reward.
“Is he making you feel good, babygirl?” Tyson asks, trailing his fingers along the curve of my jaw, and when I open my eyes into his, there’s a soft smile on his face, one that loves to watch when I fall apart for just them.
“Yes, fuck! Oh my god,” I cry out, two of Jasper’s fingers breaching through my entrance, the cobwebs that previously occupied the space dissipating within seconds, the fullness of just his fingers sending me straight into another galaxy.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Massi. You’re making her look so fucking pretty,” he groans, his thumb stroking my bottom lip while I breathe through the powerful orgasm ripping through my body, embracing the waves of pleasure as they crash onto my shore.
It’s been far too long, but Jasper expertly works my body until I’m on the verge of tears, my shaking frame rattling the table as I enjoy the freedom this cabin offers, my screams ricocheting off the walls and haunting the poor dead animals hanging off the mantle.
“Delicious little prey,” Jasper mutters, grinning from ear-to-ear as he comes up for air, planting juicy kisses along my belly while his hands dig into my thighs, likely leaving finger-shaped bruises.
“Tyson, I want you,” I breathe, unable to make it sound romantic, or less-than desperate, but at this moment, there’s nothing that’d make me feel higher than sharing a moment with him, too.
“On all fours, babygirl. We need to remind you who you belong to.” He fists my hair, forcing me to a sitting position, planting a quick kiss on my lips before turning me around until my eyes are lined with his cock, and my backside is on full display.
“I’d forgo a million blowjobs just to see this view for the rest of my life,” Jasper moans, rubbing his hands along my ass cheeks, slapping as he goes, which only heightens my emotions, the absolute high of being perched back into poses at their mercy slamming into me like a fucking semi.
“Please, let me suck your cocks,” I beg, needing to approach this final hurdle with confidence, erasing all memory of Vincent with a true throat-ravaging session only these two men can provide.
“Tongue out,” Tyson says, the dead stare of a thousand men in his eyes, but the fear instantly disappears from my bones as I follow his command, like a robot who only knows how to please.
At this angle, there’s no way I can use my hands and keep balancing in the way Tyson posed me, so I inch forward, tongue out as requested, relying on only my abilities as I wrap my lips around Tyson’s cock, the sheer size of him exercising my jaw within seconds.
My body confuses fear and pleasure, my knees locking and heart rate accelerating because of the act, but Tyson senses my discomfort, wrapping a hand in my curls, the other stroking my neck where his cock is lodged down my throat, and I can sense his reservations, like he’s taking it easy for my sake.
Without a thought, I take him deeper, opening my throat until I feel my nose touch his stomach, and a deep groan releases from his chest, the grip on my hair tightening with each second I spend choking around his cock.
“Fuck, baby girl,” he rasps as I slowly pull back, gagging as his length slides across my tongue until I release him with a pop.
Spit dribbles down my chin as I look up at him, a small smirk on my face as I revel in the ways I made him fall apart with only my mouth.
It’s different, when you actually want to devote yourself to an act of sexual desire, and I feel nothing but power surging through my veins as Jasper steps up to the table, an evil grin plastered on his face.
“Let’s see if my perfect little cocksucker can still take every fucking inch,” he growls, his fingers reaching out to swipe the spit from my chin, pausing until I open my mouth, allowing him to spread it right back onto my tongue.
With these boys, I could never stay scared for too long, their presence being the one thing that has ever been enough to calm me down, so when Jasper drops his boxers, the feeling in my belly materializes as excitement, rather than fear.
It’s a fresh wound, a trauma that needs healing, but at this very moment, all I want to do is please him – both of them – in order to place the final patch over our mended relationship.
Wrapping my lips around his cock, I slowly work my way down Jasper’s length, and his hands immediately land around my neck, his thumbs over my windpipe as his cock breaches the back of my throat, filling me to the absolute hilt.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Principessina. Your throat feels so fucking good,” he says, accentuating his words with small thrusts, just enough to force my gag reflex to kick in, causing me to choke around him.
In a split second, he pulls all the way out, dropping his lips to mine in a kiss that kicks my pounding heart into overdrive, the vodka and taste of sex mixing in my veins like a deliciously devilish cocktail.
“There’s no way in hell the first time I come in six months is going to be down your throat,” Jasper whispers, tapping my cheek with his hand lightly, my eyes slowly opening into his after another round of claiming.
“Fuck me, then,” I choke out, my voice hoarse from the sheer size of him and Tyson, a harsh reminder of how perfectly they fit inside of me.
“You want me to fuck your pretty little pussy, Principessina?” Jasper hovers over my lips, a playful, yet dark tone in his voice, and I can’t help the smile that breaks across my face.
Finally, I’ve got them where I want them, the selfish desires to be completely owned by my boys stealing every other thought, leaving my mind empty and my body on fire.
“God, yes. Please, Jasper. Mark me, claim me, own me,” I breathe, repeating the vow we took in an effort to rile him up to the highest degree.
“You already own us, baby girl,” Tyson adds, snaking a hand around my belly, pushing me back to a sitting position and easing the tension in my knees. “But I’ll gladly claim every single inch of this beautiful body, if that’s what you need.”
“Put me into another one of your pretty poses, Tyson,” I beg, completely falling into submission while he steps back to look at me, as if he has a million different ideas running through his head.
“Massi, take her to the bed,” he orders, the deep rumble in his voice sending a shiver down my spine, the anticipation bubbling in my belly for what’s to come.
Jasper scoops me into his arms effortlessly, and I bend into the crook of his neck, leaving kisses along his collarbone as we leave our discarded clothes in the middle of the kitchen.
My mind wanders to the first time we slept together, how timid I was, and how my life changed solely because I decided to let two men have me at the same time.
Every move since has altered the trajectory of where I was headed, versus where we ended up.
Hushed voices echo off the walls, but I’m so lost in the idea of pleasure that I let Jasper drop me in the middle of the bed without so much as a whimper, while Tyson flattens me onto my back, his hands tangling in my hair, rolling along my curves, and not stopping until his fingers curl under my chin, forcing me to focus on him.
“Safe word?” He asks, always starting off a scene with the technical details, but it’s one of the things I admire about him most, how much my level of comfort means to him.
“Butterfly.”
“Massi, she’s all yours,” he says with a nod, pleased with my answer and allowing us to continue.
Reaching up, I pull Tyson until our lips meet in the middle, desperate to let him know much I love him, and distract myself from the reckoning I know Jasper is about to deliver.
All at once, I’m being returned to the place I called home, positioned between the only people in this world who care about me, for me, and were created for the sole purpose of loving me in ways I never thought were possible.