42 #4
I’d considered myself dominant before, and I still do. But I never thought I’d be so quick to obey commands, not from anyone.
But she’s not just anyone.
Glancing over at Tiger, we communicate without words, reading each other faultlessly after years of training together, learning each other’s techniques, each and every tell, effortlessly knowing what the other wants.
We might not have planned for this, but that understanding passes without issue to this exact moment, and hooking a finger in the damp fabric covering her pussy, he stretches it, pulling it to the side.
Alby makes a strangled sound, just a wheeze of breath, as if his body can’t find any more to choke out.
He’s got the best view of that hot, wet flesh with his position by her feet, and I know he’s never experienced anything like this before, so I’m not surprised he’s glitching.
My brother isn’t faring much better, and he gapes, mouth open, eyes bugged out of his head and locked between those oil-coated thighs.
“Pleasure her, fuckers. Or move. I’m only letting you share my girl because you said you could give her what she needs,” Tate rumbles, and Cooper throws him a scathing look.
“So pretty . . .” Alby whispers, finally managing to make his tongue work, although he’s very much still in a daze, gaze a replica of Tiger’s.
“Holy shit.” My brother is still looking at Ezla’s pussy as if it’s a mystical artifact that’s just been revealed to the world, and he swipes his thumb through her folds before sticking the digit right in his mouth. “Oh, wow. Wifey, you taste so good,” he moans.
Shaking my head a little at his antics even as a smile sneaks onto my face, I advise, “Sink your middle finger inside her.”
Eagerly, he does as I tell him, gasping as the digit disappears inside her walls, his other hand keeping her underwear pulled to the side.
“How does she feel?” Cooper shifts, getting a better angle and placing a hand on Ezla’s lower back to toy with her tiny black thong again.
Tate gathers her dark chestnut strands up and wraps them around his fist, giving them an experimental tug, and Tiger sucks in another sharp breath. “She just squeezed me. She’s— It’s so tight. And soaked.”
“Yeah?” Tate brings his lips to Ezla’s ear, but his words are loud enough to meet all of ours too. “You love it when I do that, don’t you? You want me to fuck you hard and dirty.” Another tug, a little harder.
Her response is to grin wickedly, and I realise then that I’ve never seen her smile. And even though this isn’t the one of carefree happiness I want her to wear one day, it’s still fucking gorgeous. And so, so her that goosebumps rise on my skin and my cock jumps again.
Eyes rolling back, the next sound to leave her is a beautiful moan while my brother watches his fingers as he begins to pump them in and out of her, having added a second one and experimenting on how to move his hand, testing different angles and curling his fingers.
His face brightens like a sunrise when he hits the right spot, easy to tell from Ezla’s huskily moaned, “Tiger.”
“Oh, Wifey, you’re gonna make me pass out with my name on your lips,” he groans, movements gaining speed, the wet sounds of his fingers moving in and out of her only turning me on more, despite the familiar pang of envy that prods me as yet another man who’s not me gets to hear that voice of velvet and sin say their name. “Is that good? I’m doing it right?”
I don’t know who he’s asking, but me, Cooper, and Ezla all answer at once with a “yes” of varied tones— mine softened, knowing just how important it is to my brother that he’s treating his Bonded well, Cooper’s gruff, and Ezla’s like the crack of a whip as she savagely demands more with that one word.
Relief and a boatload of more arousal dump themselves on Tiger’s expressive face.
While he keeps fucking her with his fingers, I wrap a hand around her thigh, breath hitching as I do, and I shift it my way a little to open her up further for us.
Then I trail my fingertips up her inner thigh, meeting Ezla’s heavy-lidded eyes with my own, heart galloping at the connection that’s almost tangible.
I drag my hand higher and higher, and soon enough, I’m right where she needs me most. Slipping my fingers beneath my brother’s and collecting some of her juices, a spark zips through me at the initial contact as though I’ve been electrocuted, and I drag those digits down to her clit, fingertips locating the swollen bundle and pressing down gently before rubbing slow circles.
“More,” our Bonded hisses. “Scotty, Tiger, more.”
My eyes close, and I savour the two syllables from her lips that I’ve been waiting for for what feels like eons when it was really only weeks.
Thank you, Love. I push the words out in my mind, imagining them drifting her way.
Our gazes collide once more, and I know she heard me, her walls having been let down, no guards up, whether intentionally or not.
Thank me by showing me pleasure, she retorts, her voice a taunting coo.
And who would I be to deny her what we both so desperately want?