Pleasure and pain roll through me in equal measure. I fucking love jealous West. His hand slides up my back, rough fingertips digging into my skin. He grabs the nape of my neck and pins me flat to the wall with the full weight of his body. He’s the same height as me, but he’s thirty pounds heavier on account of the weight training he does every morning. I could put up a fight, maybe even knock him on his ass and pin him to the floor with his hands above his head. My cock stiffens at the memory of the times I’ve done exactly that and how he punished me for it after. But tonight I don’t feel like fighting back. I just want West Archer any way he comes. Literally.
His hand slides to my throat, and he tilts my head back. “Shall I fuck you here in the hallway, Fitch?”
I push my ass back, rubbing it over his hard cock. “Fuck me anywhere you like, West.”
He tugs at his belt and grunts. “You’re a fucking manwhore, you know that?”
I grin, making him yank my head back further. “Yeah, so what?”
He smacks my ass. “You let just anyone fuck your tight ass, Fitch?”
“Maybe.” I let out a wicked laugh. I might not want to physically fight him tonight, but I live to push every single button this man has, and he has many.
His response is little more than a growl as I feel him finally freeing his huge cock from the confines of his pants. He fists his hands in the front of my shirt and tugs it open, sending buttons skittering across the marble floor.
“Asshole,” I mutter.
“You’re testing every last fucking shred of my patience tonight, Fitch.” He yanks the shirt down my arms and pulls it off, breaking my cufflinks in the process.
“You know you bought me those cufflinks, right?”
He pins me flat to the wall again, the hot skin of his chest scalding my back. “So I’ll buy you another pair, you fucking brat.” Sinking his teeth into the back of my neck, he opens my pants and tugs them down over my ass. Once he’s satisfied that I’m exactly how he wants me, he holds his left hand in front of my face. “Spit, baby, because it’s the only fucking lube you’re getting.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes because fuck me, this is going to hurt like a motherfucker. I collect as much saliva as I can in my mouth and spit into his open palm.
“Good boy.” He pushes the crown of his thick cock inside me, and my spit does little to ease the way. I press myself flat to the wall until there’s nowhere left for me to go.
He inches inside me, stretching me open and dragging his sinfully hot mouth along my ear. “Holy fuck, West.”
“I would have brought lube, but I knew you’d be a little brat for me and need it like this.”
He inches in further. Pain, laced with the kind of pleasure sick fucks like me get from being hurt like this, hurtles through my body. “Oh fuck!” My nails scrape down the paint on the wall as he rocks his hips and sinks deeper. “Is that all you’ve got?”
“Fuck, Fitch,” he groans, and the sound vibrates through his chest and into me. “Why do you have to fucking push me?”
I rest my forehead on the wall and suck deep breaths through my nose. “Because I love making you lose control.”
Zeke is all passion and fire and heart once he lets someone in. My chaos. He gets off on pain, but then he makes up for it by being as sweet as a fucking kitten after. But West is pure ice. My peace. Calm and controlled, rarely letting emotion cloud his decision-making. He only hurts me when he loses control, so the pain he gives me comes with the satisfaction of knowing that I’m the one who caused him to let go of the reins, if only for a little while.
He pulls out and sinks in deep again, his hot breath on my ear and his free hand gripping my cock. “You’re mine. You got that? Mine.”
“I’ve always been yours.” He squeezes my shaft hard, and burning hot pleasure coils at the base of my spine. He pumps me faster, the rhythm of his hand matching his thrusts. Blinding specks of light flicker behind my eyelids.
“I fucking love losing control for you, Fitch,” he groans against my neck. His hips still—and so does his goddamn hand—as he comes.
I pant for breath, stranded on the ledge of the orgasm his body promised mine. “You’re a fucking jackass.”
With a laugh, he bites down hard on my shoulder blade, sucking the skin and no doubt leaving a huge fucking hickey. Marking me as his. I usually love it, but I’m pissed. I reach for my cock to finish myself off, but he snatches my wrist and makes a tutting sound. I’m going to headbutt him in the fucking nose if he’s not careful.
A soft but demanding growl rumbles out of him. “Turn around.”
“What?”
He pulls back, giving me space to move. “Turn around. I want to taste you.”
I spin around, my eyes narrowed.
He tips his head to the side and flashes me a wicked grin. “Do I ever leave you hanging?”
“Yeah.” That’s a lie. He always gives in eventually, but eventually is the key word. He’s been known to edge me for hours, and I don’t think I can take that tonight. Not when the need to come feels like a thousand knives slicing me open.
He shakes his head. “Lucky for you, I want to suck your cock more than I want to punish you right now.”
Dropping to his knees, he wraps his hand around my throbbing length and darts his tongue out, sweeping it over my crown and licking precum from my slit.
I tip my head back and let out a long, low moan. “I have no idea how you’re so fucking good at that when you get barely any practice.”
He squeezes the base of my shaft tighter and mutters something I don’t understand before he takes me all the way into his mouth. I thread my fingers in his hair but resist the urge to fuck his throat. He hates that. Instead, I look down and watch the most powerful man I know suck my cock. The sight alone is enough to make me nut in his mouth. “Fuck, West.”
He looks up, and the bastard winks at me. The back of my head hits the wall, and my hands fist tighter in his hair as I rock forward and come down his throat. He swallows every last fucking drop, and I’m still gasping when he stands and presses his forehead against mine.
“It’s so fucking hot when you get on your knees for me.”
He pulls my pants up and refastens them, then kisses the three prongs of the trident tattoo on my chest. “You and Zeke are the only men I’d ever get on my knees for. You know that, right?”
I place my palms on either side of his handsome face. “I know. It’s the same for me.” As much as I enjoy making him jealous, he knows he has nothing to worry about. He and Zeke are it for me, and now Lily too. I’m happy to go the rest of my life fucking, and being fucked by, nobody but the three of them.
Grabbing my hands, he kisses the insides of both my wrists. “You want to come to bed and watch some trashy TV?”
My knees nearly buckle at the amount of love that rushes through me, but I force myself to stand up straight and grin. “Can we bring snacks, because I’m fucking starving?”
He chuckles. “You go get cleaned up. I’ll get the snacks.”
Chapter
Thirty-Two
LILY
I step out of the elevator and into the private parking garage full of the most expensive, high-end cars and motorcycles I’ve ever seen in my life. My heart races faster than the Ducati I pass, and I brush my fingers over its supple leather seat.