Chapter 16 #2
It’s a good job that I take a second to assess who it is because Wyatt comes back into the room, laden with two trays of food and drinks.
“How did you get in here?” I hiss.
“Sorry, I took Milo’s wristband in case you were still asleep when I got back. I tried knocking and got no answer, so assumed you were.”
“I was.” I level a disgruntled glare at him.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. I just thought that the serving time for breakfast was nearly over and both of you would be hungry when you eventually woke up.”
As he brings the trays into the room I managed to spy what he’s collected. He’s managed to get both our usual breakfast foods, in ample supply, as well as a large mug of coffee each and some juice. He sets them down on an empty shelf of the open wardrobe.
“Did you want yours now?” he asks.
“No, I’m going back to bed.” I drop back onto my mattress. “Thank you though,” I add begrudgingly. Once again, Wyatt is being incredibly sweet and thoughtful.
Here I was hoping that some sleep would allow me to stop feeling this weird tugging in my chest when it comes to these humans.
Throwing an arm over my eyes, I shuffle down the bed so I’m laying flat. I expect to hear the door as Wyatt leaves but no sound meets my ears.
“Are you still just standing there?” I ask when the overbearing feeling of his eyes on me gets too much.
“I never asked about this.” Wyatt’s voice makes me startle as it comes from just above me rather than from over by the door. Fingers run gently up the length of the dagger tattoo on my thigh.
Jumping sidewards and moving my arm, I open my eyes to see Wyatt checking out the ink. “What do you want to know?”
“Well, it has to mean something. I can’t believe a girl like you would mark her body with just any old design. I noticed it before but didn’t stop to truly take in just how beautifully it’s done.”
“It’s an inked version of my favourite dagger.
” I consider moving my hand to the lines and using the magic that exists within them to pull the knife free from my skin, just so I can stab Wyatt with it.
His fingers are still tracing the edges and it’s irritating me right to my core.
I screw my eyes closed again instead, trying to ignore his touch on my flesh.
“And the flowers?” he asks, brushing the garland of roses and belladonna that make up the garter that holsters the blade. I’m powerless to stop the goosebumps erupting across my skin.
“The roses symbolise death and the belladonna is for danger,” I tell him.
“Death and danger, is that how you see yourself?” Wyatt continues stroking my leg, although his fingers are covering much more than just the dark ink now. I’ll stop him in a second.
“Precisely,” I answer his question. “I am an assassin after all.”
“And you used flowers to represent that because?” His fingers reach my knee and change direction, heading back up my thigh but with a different trajectory, now tracing up the inner side.
“What are you doing?” I demand as my hand slams down on top of his, halting its exploration.
“You seemed to be enjoying it, I thought it might help you relax.”
“I’ll be fine without you.”
“But you’ll sleep better if you let me release some of the tension that’s clearly weighing on you.”
I don’t have to ask to know how he wants to achieve that as his fingers continue to draw lazy circles on my inner thigh, even with my hand on top of his.
“I thought you didn’t do repeats,” I remind him, and let's face it, myself too.
“I can make exceptions.” His breath ghosts over my thigh now, before his lips brush the bit where the dagger tip is inked. I almost moan as his tongue flicks out to suck on the skin, a reminder of how fucking talented his mouth is in other places.
Moving my hand off his and onto my other thigh, I give in to the embers of heat growing deep in my core at Wyatt’s touch. He immediately starts tracing lines up my leg again, using his fingers to gently open my legs.
It’s stupid for me to let this happen. He was an excuse the other night, a means to an end. In more ways than one, I guess, because it had been good to get fucked again after several weeks of no action. But I have no such excuse right now.
His lips trace up my tattoo as his fingers reach the seam of my underwear. My breath hitches as I silently plea for him to duck inside it. My hips tilt in invitation which causes him to chuckle softly.
“So fucking responsive.” His voice is gravely, thick with his own arousal. He takes his time teasing me, tracing that line along the crease of my leg with his digits until I’m practically panting.
When he removes his hand suddenly, a whimper escapes me before I can stop it.
My eyes fly open, but I relax as Wyatt moves, gently raising from where he’d been crouched beside the bed to sit on the mattress with me.
He gently widens my legs further so he can sit between them.
He quickly removes his top before his hands come to my panties.
“May I?” he asks, hooking his fingers into the waistband. Nodding, I straighten my legs upwards to let him slide them off. I manage to manoeuvre gracefully until my thighs are once again framing his body.
He stares down at my naked pussy, his tongue flicking out to lick his lower lip. “Fuck, you have such a pretty cunt.”
The praise heats me from the inside, making my core clench on nothing, increasing my need for him to start touching me again.
He must see my growing arousal because he brings those fingers back and traces them gently over my folds.
From the slick feeling of how they slide over my cunt, I can tell I’m already soaked for him.
He gathers some of the wetness before seeking out my clit and giving it a couple of flicks with his fingers. I buck under the intense sensation, crying out a mewling noise which reveals my desperation.
There’s a rustling to my left, which pulls me out of the lust fog immediately. My eyes fly open to see Wyatt between my legs glaring wide eyed. We both turn to see Milo sitting up but leaning on an arm and looking embarrassed.
I quickly slam my legs shut and sit up, scooting my ass up the bed so Wyatt is no longer between my thighs. Curling them up around me, I pull some of the duvet to cover my pussy, although with Wyatt’s weight on most of it I can’t exactly cover up much.
“Milo, I’m sorry we woke you.” Heat rises to my cheeks. It’s an odd reaction as I’d never apologised for being caught having sex before. Granted, it hasn’t happened all that often, but I liked to live dangerously occasionally, the risk of being caught is something I quite enjoyed.
But with Milo, it feels different. Like being caught out rather than just caught. His wide-eyed stare turns darker, and a storm brews in his forest green eyes. For the first time since we’ve met, I really wish he could talk. I want to hear what he’s thinking.
Before I can compose myself to get us over whatever the fuck is passing between us, Wyatt steps from the bed. He moves across the space slowly but holds out a hand to the other man on the bed opposite.
“Come, I don’t mind sharing,” he says, shocking us both.
My gaze immediately whips to the blonde giant who was just between my thighs, but his focus is still on Milo.
Darting my eyes back to my roommate, the maelstrom of emotion that had been there has been replaced by burning desire. He wants this.
The realisation stalls my breath as Milo reaches out and allows Wyatt to help him up from his bed. Is this really happening? I had told myself I wasn’t going to have a repeat with Wyatt and had not let myself consider being with Milo that way, despite the fact I’ve checked him out a few times.
“Do you want to do this?” Wyatt asks. I’m nodding my head before I have the conscious thought. I might not have predicted it but now it’s being presented, I really, really do want it.
Then I notice that neither man is looking at me. Their focus is on each other as Milo chews on his bottom lip before nodding.
“Can I touch you, or are you just wanting to touch Tacita?” My heart beats like a drum as Wyatt sets the boundaries of what’s about to happen.
Again, Milo nods. My insides set ablaze and I’m pretty sure my pussy is now dripping. I like being watched, but I also enjoy watching. If these two are about to make out, I am fully on board.
“What about you Tacita? Any limits?” Wyatt turns to me as he places his hands on Milo’s waist.
“Nope,” I reply enthusiastically, my thighs clenching in anticipation.
“That’s settled then,” Wyatt grins wide and returns his focus to Milo, yanking off the t-shirt he was sleeping in. Milo nearly loses his balance as he tugs his arms free and grips onto Wyatt, his breathing visibly accelerating.
“I’ve wanted to do this since I caught you staring at me in the library,” Wyatt whispers as he tosses the t-shirt and takes Milo’s head in his palms.
The moment their lips meet I’m dying to get involved, but hold myself back, letting them enjoy this moment.
Wyatt steps closer into Milo’s space and their chests meet.
It’s obvious in the workout shorts that Wyatt is hard again already.
He moves one hand down to adjust his cock, but grazes the front of Milo’s crotch in the process and the smaller man nearly buckles, his grip on Wyatt’s waist tightening.
The kiss doesn’t last long, and I’m not even sure they used tongues, but Wyatt pulls back to study Milo’s face. “I think our girl might feel neglected if we don’t pay her attention soon. You woke up just as I was getting to the good bit, so I’m sure she’s feeling like she’s been left hanging.”
Milo’s gaze swings to me, his eyes already looking lust drunk from just that kiss. He slowly reaches out a hand, hesitant in his gesture, but I quickly untangle myself from the blankets and allow him to pull me into the narrow space between our beds so I’m standing between them.