28. Mara #2
He nods, as if I've just given him a valuable piece of diagnostic information. His hand slides back down, his fingers tracing the seam of my panties through the soaked fabric of my leggings. "And this? Does this help?"
"Yes," I gasp, my head falling back. "God, yes."
I look up and freeze, my heart stopping. Daniel is standing there, his expression confused, his eyes taking in the scene: me, half-naked, pressed against the counter, Gray's hand between my legs.
For a second, I think he's going to explode. I think he's going to rip Gray's arm off and haul me out of here. But he doesn't. Instead, a dangerous smile spreads across his face. He steps inside, and I hear the click of the lock.
"Well, well," he says in a low, dangerous purr. "Looks like I missed the party."
He leans against the door, mirroring Gray's earlier position, and I watch in stunned silence as he reaches down and cups the massive bulge straining against the zipper of his jeans. He presses it, a groan escaping his lips, his eyes never leaving mine.
Gray doesn't miss a beat. He continues to rub me, his fingers finding my clit through the fabric, circling it with a maddening, perfect pressure. Daniel watches, his hand working his cock through his jeans, his eyes dark with a primal hunger that both terrifies and thrills me.
Then he unzips his pants, and his cock springs free, thick and hard and weeping with precum. He wraps his hand around it, stroking himself slowly, his gaze locked on me, on Gray's fingers working me into a frenzy.
"Be quiet, Mara," Daniel murmurs, his voice a strained command. "You don't want anyone to hear you, do you?"
I can't answer. I can only shake my head, my body arching into Gray's touch.
He slips a finger beneath the fabric of my panties, and I cry out, the sound swallowed by the small, tiled room.
He finds my entrance, my slick heat, and slides a finger inside me.
Then another. He curls them, finding that spot deep inside me that makes me see stars.
The world dissolves into a blur of sensation. Gray's fingers pumping into me, his thumb circling my clit. Daniel's eyes on me, his hand stroking his cock, his groans mixing with my own desperate whimpers. The pressure builds, a tight, coiling heat in my belly, and then it breaks.
I come with a silent scream, my body convulsing, my inner walls clamping down around Gray's fingers.
But he doesn't stop. He keeps going, his fingers relentless, his thumb never ceasing its maddening circles.
And I come again. And again. Wave after wave of pleasure, each one more intense than the last, until I'm a sobbing, shaking mess, clinging to Gray's shoulders to keep from collapsing.
I have never felt anything like this. It's a complete and total unraveling, a destruction of the person I thought I was and a rebirth into something new, something terrifying, and something more alive than I have ever been.
My body is a live wire, humming and sparking with a pleasure so profound it borders on pain.
I'm boneless, a puddle of goo held up only by the solid warmth of Gray's chest against my back and the unforgiving press of the counter against my hips.
My sweater is a balled-up lump in my hands, my bra is dangling off one shoulder, and my leggings are soaked through with a slickness that's part mortification, part pure triumph.
Gray slowly, so slowly it's almost torturous, withdraws his fingers from my body.
A needy whimper escapes my lips at the sudden empty feeling.
He brings his hand up, his fingers glistening with my arousal in the harsh fluorescent light of the grimy bathroom.
And then he does something that makes my entire system reboot.
He puts his fingers in his mouth and licks them clean.
One by one. He's not just tasting me; he's savoring me, his eyes closed, a look of pure, unadulterated bliss on his face.
It's the filthiest, most erotic thing I have ever seen in my entire life, and I feel a fresh gush of wetness between my thighs in response.
My gaze drifts over to Daniel, who's still leaning against the door.
He's still watching us, his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking himself with a slow rhythm that's somehow more intense than if he were frantic.
His cock is… a work of art. It's thick and fat, the head a deep, angry purple that looks almost painful, and a prominent vein runs along the underside, pulsing with his heartbeat.
The base of it is already thickening, swelling into a knot that promises a fullness so complete I'm not sure my body could handle it.
"Are you hard?" I ask Gray, the question popping out before I can stop it. I'm surprised by my own boldness, by the husky, breathy quality of my voice. I can't think straight. My brain is a fog of hormones and need, and the only coherent thought I can form is more.
It feels like my thoughts are swimming in warm honey, thick and slow and sweet.
Gray chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that vibrates through my back and straight down to my clit. "What do you think, sweetheart?"
He presses his hips against me, and I can feel the long, hard length of his erection through his jeans. It makes me ache all over again, a fresh wave of need cresting over the remnants of the last.
I can't tear my eyes away from Daniel. His strokes are getting faster, his breathing more ragged, his chest heaving with each inhale. "Fuck," he curses.
His fist flies faster over his shaft, his knuckles white with the force of his grip. A bead of precum wells up at the tip, pearly and perfect, and he uses it to lubricate his movements, his hand sliding smoothly over his hard, heated flesh.
I can see the strain etched onto his face, the way the muscles in his arms and shoulders are bunched and coiled.
He's holding back, I can tell. He's trying to maintain some semblance of control, to be the responsible one, but it's a losing battle, and watching him fight it is the hottest thing I've ever seen.
"Does it hurt?" I whisper. "Your knot… does it hurt when it's like that?"
He lets out a harsh sound that's a cross between a groan and a snarl. "We shouldn't be doing this in here," he says, his voice a strained warning that's completely undermined by the way his hand keeps moving. "Not here. Not like this."
Gray agrees, his voice a low rumble against my ear. "He's right. This is a terrible idea." But even as he says it, his hands are on my hips, and he's bending me forward, pressing my chest against the cold, hard, sticky surface of the counter.
He grinds his hips against my ass, the hard ridge of his cock fitting perfectly against the seam of my leggings.
It's so goddamn hot. My brain is screaming at me that this is wrong, that these are Alphas, big, strong, powerful Alphas who could break me in half without even trying.
But it's like I can't form a coherent thought past how wet I am, how my body is responding to their touch, their scent, their raw, untamed need.
Gray's hands find the clasp of my bra. He unhooks it and the flimsy lace falls away, exposing my breasts to the cool air of the bathroom.
He cups them in his large hands, his thumbs brushing over my already sensitive nipples.
I gasp, my back arching, pushing my breasts deeper into his palms. He pinches my nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my clit.
"Oh, fuck," I moan, my head falling back against his shoulder, my eyes fluttering closed.
Daniel lets out a choked sound, and I force my eyes open to look at him. He's biting his fist, his eyes squeezed shut like he's in pain. "Why is that so hot?" he groans, his voice a pained, desperate sound. "Why is watching him touch you so fucking hot?"
He's talking to Gray, but his eyes are wide open now, fixed on me, on my bare breasts, on Gray's hands on my body. He's stroking his cock faster now, his movements becoming more erratic, more frantic. I can see his knot swelling more, the base of his cock thickening until it's almost frightening.
Gray continues to grind against me, his hips moving in a slow, torturous rhythm that's driving me absolutely insane.
His hands are everywhere, on my breasts, my stomach, my hips, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
I'm completely lost, a ship without a rudder in a storm of sensation.
I don't know where I end and they begin.
All I know is that I want more. I want everything.
"Please," I beg, my voice a ragged, breathless plea. "Please, I need…"
I don't even know what I'm asking for. Release? Fulfillment? An end to this sweet, agonizing torture?
Gray seems to understand. He leans in, his lips brushing against my ear. "I know, sweetheart. I know what you need."
And with that, he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of my leggings and pulls them down, along with my soaked panties, in one smooth, quick motion.
The cool air hits my heated, wet flesh, and I gasp, my cheeks flaming with a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation.
I'm completely exposed, bent over a dirty bathroom counter, with two powerful Alphas watching me, wanting me, their scents filling the small space until I'm drunk on them.
And I have never felt more powerful, more alive, more myself in my entire life.