Epilogue #2
“I’m sorry…” I peek at him from behind my lashes. “I don’t know how to make it up to both of you. I want all my customers to be taken care of. Two strong men like you deserve extra special attention, especially at this time of year.”
Henri strikes, wrapping my ponytail around his fist, before tugging my head back. I barely stifle a horny gasp, instead feeding him a sultry little whimper. He dips his head and narrows those gorgeous eyes of his on mine. “Looks like you’re going to have to show us just how sorry you are instead.”
I wet my lips, humming an agreement. “Anything. I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?” The smirk in Henri’s voice is so dangerous. “In that case… Eyes closed. Put your hands against the shelves. Do not move.”
Of course, I do as he says. My hands fly to the lip of the shelf just above my head height, my eyes slam shut, goosebumps flurry down my arms. Everything about playing out this fantasy is so delicious, I bite down on my bottom lip to keep the far too desperate noises I truly want to make sealed away. For now, at least.
A subtle rasp of material at the top of my head is accompanied by a slight pressure on my crown.
The bow tied around my ponytail is undone with a sensually slow tug.
I’m outright panting when Henri’s rings and firm touch drag my wrists together, briefly moving me into the correct position so that he can bind my hands.
He sinks a finger between the ribbon and my flesh to check it’s not too tight, then disappears.
It’s hard to tell over how loudly my heartbeat pounds in my ears, but I’m pretty sure he lets out a smug laugh under his breath.
I hear the two of them move around the room for a few minutes.
Stella’s nails pitter-patter across the hardwood floor, and I can only imagine her sweet little face looking at her two dads with a weary sigh that we’re evicting her from the living room.
She can’t complain too much, mind you. Her second favorite place to snooze is being sprawled on our custom-built giant bed when things out here get a little… spirited.
Long strides come closer. I know immediately it’s Reid, from his steady presence, to his scent, to the way he goddamn eclipses me with his bulk, covering my spine.
His strong arms encase me, and I can just picture how we look, him bracketing me in with both palms resting on the shelf as he dips his head, lips brushing against my neck.
“Fuck my life, sugar,” he murmurs, briefly dropping the facade of our game. “You having fun?” Those words are hot and wet, yet softly spoken against the sensitive skin behind my ear.
“A little too much.” I let the warm glow of arousal and happiness reach my lips, grinning so that he’ll be able to see my expression, all while keeping my eyes sealed shut.
“Don’t move your hands until we say otherwise.”
His calloused palms cover my fingers, encouraging me to grip the ledge, the tips of my manicure brushing against the row of books.
My entire body flushes when he kicks my legs wide.
That pounding of my pulse is echoed between my legs when I’m spread and vulnerable, opened up for him—for both of them, wherever Henri is.
That thought makes me a little dizzy, my imagination jumping into overdrive, wondering whether he’s watching the two of us from across the room, whether he’s already shedding his clothes?
God, I want to see, but at the same time, I’m loving having my sight removed to enjoy all my other senses being heightened.
The material of Reid’s shirt drags down my spine, down, down, until he grips my ass with one palm, and that’s when his energy flips.
His primal noise of wanting comes from somewhere close to my soaked pussy, beneath my skirt.
The material lifts away from my cheeks, strong fingers hook my thong and tug it aside, and his mouth is there.
Heated. Demanding. Greedy.
My cowboy feasts on my pussy, licking and sucking and nipping at the inside of my thighs until I’m reduced to a shaking mess.
His beard scratches against the most intimate part of me, as he shoves his tongue inside me, encouraging my gathering climax to a place where I think I’m going to collapse on top of him.
I claw at the shelf, hanging on tight, and when he moves to start licking up the seam of my ass, my head drops between my shoulders.
A long, low moan escapes me. Partly because he’s left me hanging without making me come yet, partly because he knows just how much this drives me wild.
Books slide deeper into the shelf as I flex my hold on the wooden edge.
Reid palms the globes of my ass and pushes his tongue against me, moaning his own pleasure against my hole.
I can’t help but shudder; the overwhelm of how perfectly he’s teasing me, persuading me to relax for him, sends my head twirling off its axis.
“Open your mouth, ma petite chérie.”
I’ve never obeyed faster in my life, letting my jaw hang slack and flattening my tongue. Henri gives a hum of approval, making it sound like I’m truly being the perfect little toy for them to use.
“Suck.”
His command comes at the same time as a firm, but familiar smooth surface is pushed past my waiting lips.
As he slides the crown of one of our collection of dildos onto my tongue, I dutifully wrap my lips around it, my tongue tracing the imitation veins.
A whimper climbs up the back of my throat, one of anticipation, of begging, of wanting more of Reid’s masterful skills when it comes to eating me out and Henri’s wicked command of my body.
The sound might be muffled by the toy when he starts to slowly fuck my mouth with it, but there’s no disguising how pathetic and needy I am.
“Get yourself ready, big guy.” At my back, I feel him nudge Reid’s shoulder.
I’m torn between protesting the sudden loss of his mouth and the prospect of what’s to come next.
Reid gives my ass cheek a not-so-gentle bite, growling against my skin, before disappearing.
Henri gently pulls the dildo from my lips, and I hear the click of a cap, rustling, a whole host of sounds that I can’t picture because my brain cells are still scrambled, and my pussy aches to be filled.
As if he can read my mind, Henri’s fingers drift up the inside of the front of my thigh. A cool breeze hits my skin briefly when he delves beneath my skirt, and a slick sensation hits my clit when he rubs the toy there briefly, my thong still pushed to one side.
“Oh god. Oh my god.” I gasp. His touch feels like it’s everywhere as he slips the curved end of the dildo inside me.
“Your favorite.” He muses. Even though I can’t see his mischievous expression, I hear it in the way his tone dips into that lower register. “I love the way your tight little asshole flexes, the way you grip me the hardest when this is wedged inside your pussy.”
Well, fuck. If he doesn’t just know all the ways to turn me upside down and inside out, and he hasn’t even touched me yet.
“Please.” I’m breathless, about to combust, needing to have him inside me and to enjoy giving my cowboy what he needs, too.
“Open your eyes.”
When I do, Henri swims into focus, his gaze hooded and darkened as he pinches my jaw and slips his thumb past my lips, letting me suck and flick my tongue, and somehow it grounds me, so that I don’t feel like I’m floating up somewhere near the ceiling.
“Do you want me to leave your wrists like this, baby?” He checks in.
My nod is very slutty and sloppy and overenthusiastic when I moan around his thumb.
His string of curses in French is so damn sexy.
We move in unison, knowing this next part like a well-choreographed routine.
Henri lets me go and gently guides me to turn around, ensuring that I’m not too wobbly on my feet after being edged so expertly.
The sight that greets me of my cowboy spread out on a soft rug in front of the fireplace is heart-stopping.
He’s naked and prepping himself with his own fingers as I make my way over to him, the weight of the strap-on adding slight pressure to rub my inner walls.
“Come here, sugar. You look like a goddamn dream.” It’s just the three of us now, the game fading away, as I lower myself between his knees and he scoops my wrists tied with the pretty satin bow up in his palm.
Bringing them to his mouth, he feathers kisses over my fingers and hits me with a boyish grin.
“Joyeux Noel to us, huh?” I give him a loopy little pleasure-soaked smile in return.
“Christ. You look like our perfect Christmas slut.” Henri chuckles, joining us now that he’s rid himself of his clothes. Pausing to give me a quick kiss on the shoulder, he leans over Reid and kisses him until they’re both groaning and I’m whimpering.
When he pulls back, I don’t know if I should be as turned on as I am. Henri has managed to shove a Santa hat on Reid’s head.
“This might be a new kink,” I mutter, my nipples throbbing as I look down at him.
“Hmmm… do you like your cowboy telling you just how good you’ve been this year?
” Henri dumps more fuel on the bonfire raging in my veins when he gingerly slips the glasses I’d borrowed—my prop to enhance the role of playing slutty bookstore wench—off the bridge of my nose, then equally carefully puts them on Reid.
“Ohhh…” Hello, Daddy. It’s official. Kink unlocked. My simpering little whine is confirmation for both of them to hear.
Naked Reid, wearing a Santa hat and glasses, is enough to induce spontaneous ovulation.
Henri is in no mood to play fair. He drizzles lube over the toy, and at the same time, dips his head to take Reid’s fat cock into his mouth.
The sight is almost enough to tip me over the edge, as the motion of him stroking and lubing up the shaft of the dildo jostles it inside me.
Combined with watching his head bobbing up and down to suck Reid, is mesmerizing and tormenting all at once.