With his hands tight, gripping my hips like he was trying to break me, he pushed himself in to the hilt and groaned.
“So fucking tight, my queen. Dirty fucking queen,” he said between gasps as he began his rhythmic pumping.
I felt like I was on some kind of drug, some kind of trip. Every nerve was a live wire, and I was drowning in this symphony of flesh, sandwiched between two crazed, possessive men that would normally never share me.
I only belonged to one of them. Even though Esteban’s cock felt good in my mouth, in this wild, hedonistic heat of the moment, it was Javier as he thrust himself deep inside, who was mine.
My king.
And the man in control.
As I was on the verge of coming again, Javier fingers stroking me now, Esteban began to tense up. He grabbed a fist of my hair, pulling sharply, and I could feel his ass muscles squeezing.
“Fuck me, fuck, fuck,” he cried out softly as he came into my mouth, his hot cum dripping down my throat and out the corner of my lips.
“You come like a girl,” Javier remarked to Esteban as he continued to fuck me from behind, my breasts swinging. I didn’t know if Esteban took offense to that jibe or not, because I was coming all over again, an explosion of stars that took me somewhere very far away.
I could barely catch my breath. Letting go of Esteban, I collapsed onto the mattress, trying to muster reality from a lustful high. Javier slowly pulled himself out, still hard. For whatever reason, he hadn’t come yet. That wasn’t his style.
“Now we’re just getting started,” Javier said. He climbed off the bed, walking around to where Esteban was. His hard cock was in his tightly fisted hand, but otherwise he was still dressed. He gestured at Esteban who was still reeling from his orgasm.
“You, get on the bed and fuck her,” Javier commanded.
I blinked. We weren’t done?
Esteban seemed to hesitate as well. He’d just come after all, though he’d proved to me before that he was something of a machine. It wasn’t sex that turned him, it was the violence and danger of it all and there wasn’t anything more dangerous than what we were doing now.
“Take her on her back, edge of the bed, right here.” Javier was determined, his tone flinty. “Be rough with her, I don’t mind. I’m sure she doesn’t either.”
“Do you want to give me a minute,” Esteban muttered. “I don’t really get a fucking boner on command.” He started stroking his cock while Javier watched him with cold eyes.
As I’d thought, it didn’t take Esteban long to get somewhat hard again.
“Get on with it,” Javier commanded.
“What’s the hurry?” Esteban said but obeyed nonetheless. He reached for me and flipped me over so that I was on my back, and even though he’d just come, the man was ready for me all over again. He climbed on top of me, and while taking a rough grip of my hips, thrust his cock inside me. I had barely recovered, my body still throbbing.
“That’s right,” Javier said, now standing right above me, his own cock poised straight out. “Just like that.”
Esteban’s expression intensified as he pinned me to the mattress, smoothly grinding his hips into mine, his cock diving in and out between my legs.
Then Javier said something I’d never expected him to say.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Javier
Esteban gave the whole show away. He was just a little too into it, too much acting. Then there was Luisa who was trying not to meet his eyes, looking guilty as hell. They both thought they were acting, but their actions didn’t match. It shouldn’t have been this way. It shouldn’t have been the truth.
It wasn’t easy having to watch it all unfold. Seeing her with him and having all my darkest, most destructive suspicions confirmed.
But it had to be done. If I had called either of them out on their affair, they would have denied it anyway. Here, here, in front of my goddamn fucking face, I could see their connection. Her guilt. And his smug smile, the one that silently told me he’d had his way with her before. That this was just the icing on the cake. That he thought he had pulled a fast one on me.
I tried not to think about the timeline, the logistics, when this had started between them. Was it before Alana’s death? The beginning of our marriage? Or had it started here at the ranch? Maybe it was somewhere in between.
Regardless, by the way they worked each other’s bodies, they knew each other very, very well.
I wanted nothing more than to let the rage enslave me. I wanted to kill the both of them, right here, right now.
And on top of it all, on top of the anger that was choking me, causing my lungs to burn and my vision to swirl, there was hurt.
Stupid, foolish fucking hurt. I didn’t think I had it in me anymore. To feel. To bleed. More than that, I deserved this hurt. I knew I did. But it didn’t change a thing. It didn’t stop my heart from plummeting to its death.