Bonus Bree #2
“Getting you alone.” He lifts my thigh over his shoulder, spreading me open. “Making you come on my tongue before you go back out there.” His breath is warm against my cunt. “Sending you back to them shaking, so they know exactly who had you first.”
“That’s—fuck—that’s possessive.”
“Is it?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. His mouth finds me, tongue dragging through my folds, and I nearly slam my head back against the wall.
Theo.
He eats pussy like it’s communion—reverent and thorough and absolutely devastating. His tongue circles my clit before dipping inside me, tasting me, he’s already learned what makes me twitch. Two fingers push in, crooking against that spot that makes my legs shake, and I fist my hands in his hair.
“Theo—” I’m already close, embarrassingly fast. “I’m going to—”
“Good.” He sucks my clit into his mouth and hums, and I shatter.
The orgasm rips through me, my whole body convulsing, my pussy clenching around his fingers. He works me through it, gentling but not stopping, and before I can catch my breath, he’s building me up again.
“One more,” he says against me. “I want one more.”
“I can’t—”
“You can.” His fingers twist, hitting that spot again, and I keen. “You’re going to give me one more, and then I’m going to walk you back out there so fucked out that everyone knows what I did to you.”
Gods.
This is Theo now—four years of learning exactly how to take me apart, exactly what I need. He knows when to push and when to back off, when to be gentle and when to make me earn it.
He backs off now, slowing his fingers, letting the wave recede. I whimper.
“Please—”
“Not yet.” His tongue traces lazy circles around my clit, never quite touching it. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want to come. Please, Theo, I need—”
“I know what you need.” He presses a kiss to my inner thigh, almost chaste, while his fingers keep their maddening rhythm. “I always know. But I want to hear you say it.”
“I want your mouth on my clit,” I gasp. “I want you to make me come. Please, please—”
He rewards me.
His mouth seals over my clit and he sucks hard, fingers driving into me, and I scream. The second orgasm hits even harder than the first, waves and waves of pleasure crashing through me until I’m boneless, held up only by the wall and Theo’s hands on my hips.
When he finally pulls back, his face is wet with me. He looks satisfied.
“That’s what I needed,” he says, pressing one more kiss to my oversensitive clit—making me jerk—before rising to his feet. “Now you’re ready.”
I can barely stand. “Ready for what?”
His smile is quiet and certain. “For whatever comes next.”
I’m still shaking when he leads me back to the main room.
Things have progressed.
Gray has Wes bent over the arm of the couch, fucking into him with long slow strokes.
Wes’s face is pressed into the cushions, hands gripping the fabric, making sounds that are barely human.
I can see where they’re connected—Gray’s thick cock disappearing into Wes’s body over and over, slick and obscene.
My cunt clenches at the sight. Four years, and watching them together still does this to me—makes my mouth go dry, makes heat pool low in my belly. The way Gray holds Wes down, the way Wes takes it, the sounds he makes like he’s being ruined in the best possible way.
Gray’s eyes find mine like he knows. His gaze drags down my naked body—flushed skin, trembling thighs, the evidence of what Theo did to me probably written all over my face—and his rhythm doesn’t falter.
If anything, it deepens. He reaches out with one hand, catches my wrist, pulls me close enough to kiss.
“Good?” he murmurs against my mouth.
“Very.”
His thumb strokes my pulse point once, twice, then releases me. Back to Wes. But his eyes stay on mine for another beat, dark with promise. Later.
Rhett is sprawled in the armchair near the fireplace, legs spread, watching the room like he’s memorizing it.
He’s hard—I can see the thick line of his cock straining against his jeans—but his hands stay loose on the armrests.
Deliberate restraint. He catches me looking and his mouth curves.
Best view in the house, that smile says.
Stellan is on the couch near Wes’s head, fingers carding through his hair, entirely focused on the man beneath him.
He’s already shirtless, pale skin gleaming in the low light, and the hard line of his cock presses against his slacks.
Patient. Hungry. Waiting for Gray to finish so he can take his turn.
Thane and Seth have migrated to the other end of the room, and Seth catches my eye when I walk in—grins, crooks a finger. Come here when you’re ready.
But before I can move, Jace moves beside me.
“Hey, beautiful.” His grin is wicked. “Theo have fun with you?”
“I—yes—”
“Good.” His hand slides around my waist, pulling me back against his chest. “Now it’s my turn to play.”
“Jace, I want to watch—”
“So watch.” His mouth finds my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “I’m not stopping you.”
His hand slides down my stomach, slipping between my thighs, and I gasp. I’m still swollen and sensitive from Theo, and Jace’s fingers find my clit with unerring accuracy.
“Eyes on them,” he murmurs. “Watch what Gray does to Wes. I want to feel you react.”
Gray’s rhythm is faltering, and I know what that means. I try to focus on them even as Jace’s fingers circle my clit in slow, maddening strokes.
“Wes,” Gray grits out, fingers digging into Wes’s hips hard enough to bruise. “I’m—”
“Do it,” Wes gasps. “Please, I need—”
Gray slams in one final time and holds, burying himself to the hilt as he comes. I watch his cock pulse, watch Wes’s hole clench around him, milking every drop—and Jace chooses that exact moment to push two fingers inside me.
I moan, knees buckling, and Jace laughs against my neck.
“That’s it. Keep watching.”
Wes shudders beneath Gray but doesn’t come—his own cock hangs heavy and leaking between his legs, untouched, desperate.
“Good boy.” Gray pulls out slowly, and I can see his come starting to drip from Wes’s fucked-open hole. “You held on for me.”
“Gray—” Wes’s voice cracks with need. “I need—I can’t—”
“I know.” Gray steps back, and his eyes find Stellan’s. Something passes between them—permission, invitation, recognition. “He needs more than I can give him right now.”
Jace’s fingers curl inside me, hitting that spot that makes stars burst behind my eyes. I whimper, trying to keep my focus on the couch, on Stellan’s smirk he can’t hide.
“You’re so wet,” Jace murmurs. “Is that from Theo? Or from watching them?”
“Both,” I manage. “Gods, Jace—”
“Shh. Watch.”
Stellan rises from the couch, and I see him clearly for the first time tonight. He’s stripped down to his pants, pale elegant muscle on display. When he undoes his belt, his cock springs free—long and curved and flushed dark with want.
Wes makes a sound just looking at it. So do I—though mine comes out strangled because Jace has added a third finger and I’m stretched and full and trying desperately to pay attention to what’s happening on the couch.
“Four years,” Stellan murmurs, moving behind Wes, trailing his fingers down that sweat-slicked spine. “Four years of watching you. Wanting you. Denying myself.”
“Then stop denying yourself.” Wes pushes back toward him, shameless, desperate. “Please, Stellan. I’ve wanted you just as long.”
Jace’s thumb finds my clit at the same moment Stellan positions himself at Wes’s entrance. I’m trembling, caught between watching and feeling, overwhelmed by both.
“If we do this,” Stellan says quietly, “you’ll feel what I feel. Feeder to Feeder. No barriers.”
“I know.” Wes’s voice is certain despite the desperation. “I want that. I want you.”
Stellan pushes inside.
The sound Wes makes is wrecked—halfway between a sob and a moan, his whole body arching off the couch. Stellan is longer than Gray, I can tell from the way Wes’s breath punches out, the way his hands scrabble for purchase.
I come without warning.
Jace’s fingers, Stellan sinking into Wes, the Feeder magic starting to pulse through the bond—it all crashes together and I’m clenching around Jace’s hand, gasping, my whole body shaking.
“There you go,” Jace breathes, fucking me through it with his fingers. “That’s one. Let’s see how many more we can get while you watch.”
“Oh god—” Wes gasps from the couch. “Oh fuck, you’re—I can feel—”
“Yes.” Stellan bottoms out, hips flush against Wes’s ass, and holds there. His eyes have gone dark, his jaw clenched. “You feel that? Your hunger and mine, recognizing each other.”
The magic in the room shifts.
I feel it through the bond—this warm pulse of energy that starts in my chest and radiates outward. Wes is feeding, but not the way he does with me or Gray. He’s feeding with Stellan, their power tangling together, creating something that feels like a live wire in my bloodstream.
“Oh fuck,” Jace breathes against my neck, his fingers stilling inside me. “What is that?”
“Feeder sync,” Theo says from somewhere nearby, his voice strained. “When two of them connect during sex, it creates a feedback loop. Pleasure amplifying pleasure.”
Stellan starts to fuck him.
It’s not gentle or careful. But deep, driving thrusts that have Wes crying out with every one, his cock bouncing untouched, precome dripping onto the couch beneath him. Stellan’s hands grip his hips with bruising force, centuries of control finally cracking.
Jace resumes his rhythm inside me, matching Stellan’s pace, and I’m caught between watching and feeling—every thrust into Wes echoed by Jace’s fingers curling inside me.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” Stellan’s voice has gone ragged, nothing like his usual elegant composure. “How many times I watched you with Gray and imagined it was me? Imagined being inside you, making you make these sounds—”
“Stellan—” Wes is barely coherent. “Please, I need—I’m so close—”