Chapter 10
The weekend arrived, which meant I finally had the time to do absolutely nothing.
I was stretched out on the couch in the movie room in my comfiest sweatpants and hoodie, hair in a bun and blanket over me, in a state of full couch rot when my phone vibrated with a message from Arena.
Arena: At the country club for brunch with my parents and Trent just caused a scene. Shouting and cursing at his phone. Something about ‘why the fuck does this keep happening?’ I believe was the quote. Looks like someone isn’t enjoying the buffet of free dick at his fingertips!
The snort-laugh that came out of me was the most unladylike sound I’d ever made. If my mother had been in the room, she would have scolded me for twenty minutes without taking a breath.
Part of me wished I was at brunch right now to see Trenton’s slow descent into madness at the hands of creeps on the internet who liked to share their sausages. But the other, much larger part was happy to stay the hell away from that pin-dick predator.
Snuggling back down to continue my hectic Saturday morning plans of molding to the couch, I was interrupted when Sinclair strolled into the room looking like a snack in perfectly tailored suit pants and a crisp baby blue shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.
“What an interesting way to spend a Saturday,” he said, the hint of a smile on his kissable lips.
He moved to the couch, tapping my legs to get me to move over. I shifted, giving him space and he sat down beside me, his arm going around my shoulders. I snuggled into him, thankful I wasn’t wearing makeup that would smudge over his shirt and dirty him up. Not that he’d mind getting dirty with me.
“Why are you judging me right now? I don’t have swim practice or an upcoming meet. If I choose to rot on the couch binging reality TV, that’s my business, not yours.”
I swatted playfully at his chest, and he caught my hand against him.
“Everything to do with you is my business.” He brought my hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to my palm.
The move sent heat pooling between my legs like the desperate harlot I’d become for him. All he had to do was look at me for a little too long and I wanted him.
I looked up at him to answer, but his lips landed on mine the moment I did, his tongue invading my mouth and erasing every rational thought from my mind. I twisted into him so I was facing him and his large body shifted over me, our tongues going to war.
“Is this what you came in here for?” I asked, a little breathless. “To mock me for my vegetative state and steal the breath from my lungs?”
He smirked. “No, it’s a bonus though.”
He shifted off me and I wanted to cry out like a small child who had just had their favorite toy taken away. We both sat up, reverting back to our spots on the couch with his arm around me.
“Given you don’t have anything going on this weekend, and Byron doesn’t need us to play the role of perfect family props, I thought we could go on a trip.”
I sat up straighter. “You mean I get to fly on Sinclair Air again?”
Sinclair may be set to inherit a large portion of the Aston fortune, but he didn’t need it. His successful tech business meant he was wealthy in his own right. Enough to purchase his own plane.
“I take it you had a good time last time you were on board?”
I swallowed, my cheeks instantly heating as I remembered the way Sinclair had dropped to his knees in front of me on the flight. And then the fun all four of us had together after.
I nodded, more than ready for a repeat. “I had the time of my life.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up in that typical Sinclair half smile of his.
“Go pack your bags then, flight leaves at three.”
“So, am I allowed to know where we’re going now?” I asked as I snuggled up on the wide seat on the private plane.
I glanced from Sinclair to Dacre, Presley having to stay back for some kind of football combine thing that would have seen him kicked off the team if he’d skipped it.
He’d pouted for a good hour about missing out though and had only perked up when I’d let him rail me on his balcony while telling him he was my favorite.
A lie. I was equally obsessed with all three of them, but I’d give him what he wanted if it stopped him feeling down about being left behind.
There was something about someone as permanently happy as Presley being upset that was like a punch to the gut.
It’s why his drinking and that night by the pool affected me so much.
He was my sunshine boy most of the time, but when he let his trauma take over, he went dark fast.
When neither Sinclair or Dacre answered my question about our destination, I pouted.
“Come on, why can’t I know? I’m going to figure it out once we land. It’s not like I can jump from the plane at this point if I don’t like the destination.”
Dacre fought a smile. Sinclair just stared back at me, giving nothing away.
“We’re going to Milan,” Sin said eventually. “To get your shoes.”
It took me a beat to work out what that meant.
“Are you kidding me?” I glanced between them, my heart swelling. “You’re taking me to Milan? For a pair of boots?”
Sinclair nodded, his face still impassive. Until I sprung for my seat and jumped in his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him full on the mouth.
“It might be his plane, but it was my idea,” Dacre piped up.
I broke away from Sin, dropping into Dacre’s lap. His arms instantly came around my waist, and I dropped my mouth to his.
“Thank you,” I murmured against his lips.
He smiled back at me. “Anything for you, Bambi, you know that.”
I reluctantly slid from his lap and returned to my seat beside him. “You know this completely defeats the point of the shoes being on sale?”
“If you’d bought them in Cali we wouldn’t have gotten you on a plane again,” Sin said, quirking one serious brow at me, as though the memory didn’t affect him at all.
Dacre tipped his head back against his seat and groaned. “Fucking hell, I still fantasize about you on all fours on the bed like that.”
I reached across the armrests between us to grip him through his pants, when the curtain at the end of the aisle opened and the male flight attendant strolled towards us, carrying a tray of drinks.
I slumped back in my seat, trying not to sulk at the missed opportunity to have Dacre and Sinclair all to myself.
Six hours later we were back on the plane.
It had been 3am when we landed in Milan.
Sinclair and Dacre had whisked me off to a palatial suite at a five-star hotel for a couple of hours of non-plane sleep, followed by a four-course breakfast, before we’d headed straight to a luxury boutique to buy my boots and anything else I’d wanted.
As I sank into the creamy leather seat on Sinclair’s private jet, the exhaustion hit me.
Dacre took up the same seat next to me, Sinclair across from us.
“This was one of the best trips of my life,” I said, tucking my feet under me and getting comfortable for the flight.
“One of?” Dacre asked. “What would make it the best?”
I didn’t miss the subtle quirk to his brow. It was both an offer and a promise.
At least six different sexual suggestions ran through my mind, all of them involved the three of us tumbling onto the bed in the room at the back in a mess of heaving breaths and tangled limbs.
Just the thought of getting naked with Dacre and Sinclair at the same time had my pulse pounding between my legs.
My mind landed on one.
“Hold that thought.” I pushed from my seat, Dacre’s hand trailing over my ass as I moved past him.
Collecting my shopping bags from the seat across the aisle, I disappeared into the bedroom to change. When I emerged, I leaned against the doorframe, waiting for Sinclair and Dacre to notice me.
Sinclair did first, given he was facing me. His eyebrows shot up, followed by his gaze heating with lust. Dacre swivelled in his chair, swearing under his breath.
“Like my new boots?” I asked sweetly, relishing their reactions.
The boots were chocolate leather that came halfway up my thighs with a serious heel. I’d paired them with a cashmere jacket that tied at the waist.
Only I had it open. And was wearing only the jacket and boots.
“You better get over here or I’m going to tackle you into that bedroom and lock Sinclair out,” Dacre murmured low.
Sinclair shot a cutting glare at the back of his brother’s head. “There’s no way you’re getting her all to yourself.”
I smiled, loving their reactions, and strolled back to my seat. I perched in it, crossing my legs and letting the coat fall wide open. “Boys, I’ll happily take both of you and you know it.”
“Then why don’t you come and sit in my lap, Princess?” Sinclair said in a low voice.
Dacre let out a rough sound. “Why doesn’t she come and sit on my face?”
A voice cleared from the other side of the curtain at the far end of the plane, and I rushed to close my coat a moment before the flight attendant stepped through carrying a tray of drinks.
“Apologies for the interruption,” he said as he made his way to us. “Ms. Aston.” He tilted his head at me in greeting and placed a gin and tonic on the small side table attached to my seat.
I thanked him, not bothering to correct him about my name. After all the things my father had done—having me abducted and marrying me off against my will—I had no desire to go by Falconer any longer.
A small smile tugged at the corner of Dacre’s mouth. By now I can practically read his mind; I know he’s enjoying the idea of me being an Aston, not as their stepsister, but as their bride.
“Mr. Aston,” the attendant said, placing a glass with ice cubes in it along with a small bottle of white liquor on Sinclair’s side table. “And Mr. Aston.” He placed the same ice glass on Dacre’s table, along with a small bottle of whiskey.
“Please leave us for the next two hours,” Sinclair said to the flight attendant, who nodded once and disappeared behind the curtain once more.
The moment he was gone, Dacre turned to me. “By all means, finish what you started before he came in.”
A grin spread across my face.
“And come and sit in my lap while you do it,” Sinclair added.
I moved from my seat, sitting in Sinclair’s lap facing Dacre across from him.
Sin’s hands came around my waist to untie the coat.
He split it open, the warm air of the plane brushing over my exposed skin.
His fingers were soft and slow as he slid the material over my shoulders and down my arms. I lifted my ass enough that he could pull it out from under me, tossing it on the seat beside us and leaving me in nothing but the boots.
“The boots look incredible on you, Bambi,” Dacre said, his eyes hooded as he watched Sinclair’s fingers trail over my skin.
“Thank you for buying them for me.”
Sin’s lips brushed against my bare shoulder, making me shiver. “We’d do anything for you; you know that by now, Princess.”
I nodded, my brain already fogging at the feel of his hands on me.
When I was with them—all of them or just one of them—they consumed me in a way I’d never understood before. All I could see was how much I wanted them.
Sinclair moved his knees wide, taking mine with him and baring me to Dacre.
“You’re so ready for us, D,” Dacre said, his voice a low gravelly sound. “You’re soaked for us.”
I nodded.
Sin’s hand trailed down my middle, and Dacre sat forward, his eyes tracking the path of Sinclair’s fingers. They slid over my clit, and I sucked in a satisfied breath.
I needed one of them touching me at all times. Needed it more than chocolate during my time-of-the-month.
Sinclair played with me like he was the master of my body, sending sensation soaring through me.
I bit my lip, and Dacre reached forward, sliding his own finger over my clit, the two of them teasing me at the same time for a moment, before Dacre’s finger dipped lower.
Turning his hand over, he slid a thick finger inside me, filling me, while Sinclair continued to play with my clit.
My eyes closed, and I tipped my head back to the ceiling. “Oh god, I can’t handle this.”
It was more to myself than anyone else, blissed out words wrung from me with the pleasure they were wreaking on my body just with their fingers.
“Bambi,” came Dacre’s tortured voice, and I opened my eyes.
He kept his finger moving inside me, and reached for the button on his jeans with the other.
I nodded, desperate for him. He stood, sliding his finger from me, and I reached for his zipper.
Tugging his cock free, I didn’t hesitate.
I slid my mouth over his hard, thick shaft, taking him all the way to the back of my throat.
He groaned at the feel of my hot mouth all over him, and his fingers threaded through my hair the way he knew I loved. Sinclair’s fingers still glided over my clit, liquid heat pooling between my legs. When his touch disappeared, I let out a noise of protest around Dacre.
Dacre’s fingers massaged my scalp in reassurance. “It’s okay, Bambi. He’s giving you what you need.”
I sucked on Dacre’s tip, eliciting another groan from him, before taking him all the way down my throat again.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Dempsey.”
I smiled to myself, but didn’t have time to relish the effect I was having on him. Sinclair lifted my hips and I felt the press of his hard cock at my entrance. He hesitated for a moment, seeking permission, and I nodded around Dacre’s hard cock.
Sinclair slid inside me, his Jacob’s ladder piercing stroking over my inner walls, causing me to clench around him. He cursed under his breath. My mouth suctioned around Dacre, and the three of us moaned in unison.
There was nothing I loved more than being filled by my guys.