6. Jude #3
"That’s it," I murmur against her ear, lips brushing the wet shell of it. "God, love, look at you. Taking every inch of your stepbrother like your pussy was fucking made for this."
"Jude—" Her voice fractures around my name.
"I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby."
I shift my hips, changing the angle until I’m dragging over that spot inside her that makes her whole body jerk. Deeper now. Harder. She cries out, the sound raw and sweet, and I swallow it whole with a filthy kiss—tongue stroking deep, tasting the salt on her lips, the desperation on her tongue.
All the while, I feel my brothers’ eyes on us. It settles low in my gut, twisting into something primal and electric. She’s mine right now—my hands bruising her hips, my cock stretching her open, my name bleeding from her mouth—but she’s ours. All three of us.
The realization slams into me like a drug, and I start fucking her faster, water spraying, hips snapping up so hard her ass slaps against my thighs.
"You like this?" I growl, voice rough as sandpaper. "Being out here in the open, sun on your skin, your other stepbrothers watching while I split your tight little cunt open?"
She moans loud enough that it echoes off the villa walls, her inner walls clamping down on me. The grip is devastating.
"That’s a yes," I pant, grinning even though my lungs are burning. The words spill out filthy and playful and dead serious all at once. "Dirty fucking girl. My sweet little stepsister, naked in the pool, creaming all over her stepbrother’s cock like she was born to take it."
"Oh God?—"
"What would your dad think?" I tease, nipping at her jaw, tasting the chlorine and sun-warmed freckles.
My hips never stop, pounding into her with wet, obscene sounds.
"His precious daughter getting railed where anyone could see. Fucked raw by the brother who can’t stop grinning because she feels so damn good. "
"Jude, I’m?—"
"I know. I can feel it. Your pussy’s fluttering around me, greedy and soaked. You’re right there."
My hand wedges between our slick bodies. My thumb finds her swollen clit, circling it with firm, relentless pressure while I keep driving into her, grinding deep, feeling her walls start to pulse wildly. Her breathing turns ragged, frantic little sobs against my neck.
"Come for me," I demand, voice dropping low, steady despite the chaos ripping through me. "Let me hear every fucking sound, love. Give me all of them."
She breaks apart so beautifully it wrecks me.
Her entire body locks up, thighs clamping around my waist. Her head falls back, red hair streaming wet down her spine, and she cries out—my name, just my name, shattering loud across the pool deck.
Her pussy clamps down on my cock in rhythmic, devastating spasms, milking me so hard my vision tunnels and stars explode behind my eyes.
I follow right after her, no chance of holding back.
I bury myself to the hilt, hips jerking as I spill deep inside her with a guttural groan that vibrates against her throat.
My fingers dig bruises into the soft flesh of her hips while wave after wave crashes through me, leaving me shaking, breathless, completely undone.
For a moment after, we just breathe, foreheads pressed together, the aftershocks still rippling through her walls around my spent cock. The water laps lazily at the pool wall now. Music drifts from the speakers. The sun beats down on our joined skin, warm and indifferent.
She lifts her head. Those dazed blue eyes meet mine—wide, vulnerable, glowing with something that punches me square in the sternum. Swollen lips parted. Freckles standing out against cheeks flushed dark pink.
I brush a strand of wet hair off her face with fingers that still tremble slightly. My chest feels too tight, too full.
"You’re incredible," I say, the words raw. "You know that?"
She smiles, small and soft and devastating. "You already said that."
"Doesn’t make it less true."
I carry her toward the shallow steps on legs that feel suspiciously unsteady. When I set her down, she sways like a sailor finding land again. I steady her immediately, big hands spanning her waist, thumbs stroking the delicate skin there until she’s solid. Only then do I let go.
On the lounge chairs, Cade rises. He walks over without a word and offers her a thick white towel. His brown eyes flick to mine, and something heavy passes between us—understanding, possession, quiet acknowledgment that this just changed everything.
Rhett remains where he is, watching with that faint, knowing curve to his mouth. Quiet as ever.
I wrap the towel around Nora’s trembling body, pulling her flush against my chest. She melts into me instantly, exhausted, sated, so perfectly trusting it steals what little breath I have left.
The usual chaos in my ribcage—the jokes, the noise, the relentless energy—has burned away completely. What’s left is heavier. Real. Permanent. It settles deep, warm and a little terrifying.
I look down at her, press a slow kiss to her forehead, tasting salt and sunscreen and the faint trace of her shampoo.
"You’re really ours now."