35. Tyson
THIRTY-FIVE
TYSON
Now that I’ve tasted her, in the most pure sense of the word, I fear that I’m more addicted to Carter than I ever knew was possible.
There’s no part of me that’s able to deny a request that comes from her lips, but even I surprised myself, the thought of eating a girl out never even crossing my mind.
I’ve always been content giving the orders, or conducting the scenes, but Carter’s special, and now that I’ve done it once, I may never tell Massi to pleasure her again.
Selfishly, I want to taste her every chance I get, but the second we reach the cabin, he pounces like an animal stalking prey, scooping her into his arms with a feral urge to claim Carter that’s darkened his eyes, and reduced him to nothing but a beast trapped in a man’s body.
Without direction, he turns her panties into a makeshift gag, and her mumbled moans send shivers of electricity down each and every one of my bones, the seconds passing like hours as I fumble with the keys to our safe house.
“You already did all the hard work for me, my little temptress of death. You look so damn pretty like this, unable to say a word around your soaked panties,” he praises, dropping her tanned body down onto the couch, taking a step back to marvel in her beauty.
Following suit, I stride across the room to where he’s standing, and we stack up like a house in front of her, walls of muscle blocking her view from looking anywhere but up at us.
There’s a hint of admiration in her baby blues, a twinge of mischief painted across her pretty face, and an insatiable stream of lust flowing from her body as she falls into a beautiful submissive mess – just for us.
“She’s all yours, Massi,” I order, nodding my head in her direction as he nearly froths at the mouth from the torturous show we put on while he drove.
Usually, I’m the one at their mercy while they play, but it was invigorating, being a part of the games, and now I understand why the two deviants can barely go a day without tapping into their devilish sides.
“Should I take my time with you, Carter? Or ravage your pretty little body until I’m finished with you?
Maybe I’ll leave a trail of marks so red along your skin, you’ll never forget who you belong to,” he rambles aloud, each and every word eliciting moans, shudders, and strained breaths from Carter as she awaits his first move.
“Remember your taps?” I ask her, stepping in front of him to ensure her consent, and comfort, are attended to while her ability to speak is otherwise unavailable.
Like a well-oiled machine, she nods eagerly, tapping my thighs twice in response, and with nothing but a delighted hum, I step aside, allowing my brother to dish out whatever pleasure or punishment he sees fit for her behavior in the car today.
There’s a reason I never let him take the reigns in the bedroom, and as I watch him quite literally stare at Carter, not making a single move or sound, I’m reminded how fucking indecisive Massi is.
Ever since we were kids, he’s never been able to make a split second decision to save his life – the only exception being in a fight or flight scenario – and it’s always painful to watch the cogs slowly turn in his brain.
Carter’s a champ, waiting patiently while he works through different ideas, and just before I’m about to retake control, he plops beside her on the couch, his fingers trailing along her bare skin.
“Ty, on her right,” he orders, and my eyes flick to Carter’s, a shimmer in her irises that show she’d be holding back laughter, if it weren’t for the panty gag.
“You think it’s funny to torture me, my little tease?
I’m going to show you what torture is. You made my cock painfully hard, for nearly two hours, and I won’t let a single minute of that excruciating pain go unreturned,” he mumbles, dragging a hand to her left breast, barely touching her flesh as she lets out a slow breath.
Soft whimpers fill the room as he manages to brush against her nipple, without using an ounce of pressure, causing it to pebble in response, and goosebumps prickle her skin.
Following his pace, I trail the tips of my fingers along her ribcage, inching lower at a speed that’s slower than a snail, feeling as her body reacts to my every movement.
She’s trapped between us, forced to feel every single thing we’re doing to her, which is only serving to work her up until those sweet cries of desperation leave her chest.
Massi wraps a hand around her throat, placing rough kisses along her collarbone, while I drop my lips to her nipple, sucking it into my mouth as her chest heaves with a sharp inhale.
Letting my free hand trail lower, I brush against her inner thigh, and instinctively, she spreads her legs, but I follow the plans laid out by my brother, not getting anywhere near the place she’s begging to be touched.
Before long, Carter’s barely hanging on by a thread, moaning and groaning from just our touches, grinding her hips into the leather cushion in search of the littlest bit of friction.
Grumbled noises come from her lips, and I step over Massi’s line, desperate to hear the pretty sounds she makes without the gag.
“Yes, baby girl?” I part her lips with my fingers, pushing them to the back of her throat, waiting for her gag reflex to kick in, and when it does, I rub the saliva into the pretty pink smirk painted on her face.
“Please, I need one of you … both of you. Anything,” she whines, a shiver crawling down her spine as she begs for what she wants, a stark contrast to the shy, inexperienced girl she was when we met.
“Both of us, huh my greedy little slut? Are you so desperate for cock that you’ll take us both?” Massi groans, fastening his grip around her throat once more, pulling her until their eyes meet in the middle, both sets of icy irises blacked out with lust.
“I want everything you’ve got, and then some,” she purrs, smirking as she challenges us to do our worst, just like the temptress Massi’s dubbed her to be.
“I don’t think you’re sorry enough, Principessina,” he says, and her body physically deflates, but in the same breath he drops to his knees, spreading her thighs as he marvels up at her from the floor.
“Fuck, baby girl,” I rasp, unable to hold back my commentary as she’s completely soaked the couch, and her core is nothing but a puddle dripping down her legs.
Massi unclasps his belt, and the sound is like music to her ears, the perk in her smile unmissable as she awaits his next move.
We both watch as he removes the gun from his waistband, but Carter’s gaze lingers on the pistol, her eyes following its movements while her breathing intensifies, almost as if the sight is bringing another kink out of her woodworks.
“What’s that, Carter? Does the gun turn you on?” Massi teases, just as clued into her body language as I am, and her cheeks instantly flush bright red with heat.
“So fucking hot, Jasper.” She grinds her hips into the cushion, soft moans leaving her lips and Massi turns to me, a devious fucking grin plastered on his face, but I feel my stomach turn at what I believe is their shared thoughts.
“Don’t lose your fucking marbles, Ty. I’ll be safe,” he starts, looking up at me like a little kid begging to do something dangerous, but when I search for Carter’s gaze, her eyes are so dilated, I’m afraid if I say no, she’ll start to cry.
“Every bullet on the table, including the one in the chamber,” I say, and his eyes roll back into his head for a split second as he rushes to empty the clip, and unload the pistol in record timing.
They’re both so damn difficult, little devils who love to push the lines of sanity each and every day, but I wouldn’t have them any other way.
After all, when Carter is brought to new heights of pleasure, we all reap the benefits, and I’m more than content standing on the sidelines while they chase a specific brand of euphoria that’s unique to them.