Cole works my dress over my chest, my head, and off, leaving me completely bare. Then his hands are everywhere, stroking my hips, my thighs, and between my legs while Trace kisses me breathless. Their hot mouths and impatient fingers flood me with warmth and loosen my knees. I want…
We can’t do this. They’ll resent me. They’ll hate each other.
I try to break the kiss, but Trace presses closer, harder, tangling our tongues. I try to wriggle away, but I’m outmatched, overpowered.
Four hands.
Two mouths.
One of me.
Cole moves down my body, licking and nuzzling my hips as he caresses me from chest to toes. When Trace releases my lips to suckle my neck, I find my voice.
“Why are you doing this? You’ll regret—”
Trace grips my throat in an iron fist. “Shut the fuck up.”
His tone, the gravelly heat in his growl, I’m a slave to it.
I scratch at the collar of his hand, and he lightens the pressure just enough to allow breath.
“Do something for me.” Cole climbs over me, his fingers sliding over the fly of his jeans to free the button.
I whimper, flicking my gaze between him and Trace.
“Get out of your goddamn head and enjoy this.” Cole yanks off his shirt and attacks my breast with tongue and teeth.
Trace releases my throat and moves to my chest, licking and sucking my other breast. My hands fly to their heads, holding them to me and pushing them away as my entire world comes undone in a crashing wave of need.
Enjoy this.
That isn’t the problem. What freaks me out is the regret I’ll see in their eyes tomorrow morning. There are so many conflicting thoughts pounding in my head, but I need to remember we’re all adults. No one is here against his will. They’re controlling this, and whether or not they thought through it, they’re committed to it.
Inching down my body, Cole palms my ass, squeezes my thighs, and slides his hand between my legs, spreading the moisture. Trace tears off his shirt and returns to my mouth, kneading my breasts with strong fingers. Then he lifts on his knees, and I watch with ragged breaths as he unzips his pants and strips the last of the clothes from his body.
His erection jerks inches from my face, and my mouth waters with a rush of saliva. He’s beautifully endowed, swollen and long with a flared head beading with pre-come.
Kneeling beside my head, he angles over me and rests the tip against my lips. I dart out my tongue, savoring his salty taste as Cole grips my thighs and hooks them around his shoulders. Then he lowers his head and buries his tongue, licking me aggressively.
“Fuck!” My back bows, and my heart slams out of control.
The instant my mouth opens on a choked gasp, Trace shoves in his cock.
OhmyGod, OhmyGod. This is happening.
I suck hungrily, slurping along his shaft and gripping the base in my fist. Then we’re rocking, grinding, licking, and groping. They are muscle and flesh, passion and sin, flexing and burning beneath my greedy fingers. They surround me, consume me, twisting us into a tangle of sweaty limbs and shameless self-indulgence.
There are so many hands on my body I’m delirious beneath the sensations. I’ve never seen them this worked up, this desperate to fuck. They don’t look at each other, yet somehow, they avoid each other’s touches.
As I swallow and suck Trace’s cock, Cole’s head moves between my legs. He closes his eyes and groans, his jaw grinding against me and tongue plunging with wicked strokes.
Trace shoves a hand in my hair, gripping my head. Then he rolls to his back and takes me with him. I fall to my side, curled around Trace’s leg with my cheek on his abs as he drives himself into my mouth.
My legs tangle around Cole’s shoulders, and he repositions, running his hands up and down my thighs and lifting my ass toward his face. Restraining me in his unbending grip, he spreads me open and sinks his fingers deep inside.
I buck against the penetration, moaning around the cock in my mouth. Trace growls and reaches for my chest, pinching the ever-loving hell out of my nipple. With an anguished moan, I lick up and down his shaft. Suck hard on the head. Clamp a fist around him. Jerk him off. Make him grunt and grind against me.
The heaving of their breaths reverberates through the room. Their hands are rough and ruthless, their bodies hard and demanding. They can seduce my mind, make love to my flesh, and enslave my soul. I’m already theirs.
Affectionate fingers stroke through my hair, tangling and straightening. Trace. A nimble thumb finds my clit, circling and pinching without apology. Cole. Together, they surge a trail of tingles from my head to my toes, making me restless, fevered, and insanely turned on.
Cole leans up and removes his jeans. I watch him over my shoulder as he kneels behind me, his thick cock jutting from between powerful thighs, engorged and ready.
I meet his smoldering eyes and shiver. He’s going to fuck me. Right now, while I’m sucking off Trace.
Trace lifts me, adjusting my body on hands and knees between his legs. Then he cradles my face and holds me with his gaze in the space of a breathless moment.
Seduction isn’t a kiss or a touch. It’s this. The mystery and intelligence in his eyes. The connection they reinforce. The intoxication of feeling the depth of his emotions. He undresses our skin and strips us down to our souls until we’re bared to each other in every way, until his love fills my ribcage so completely it becomes the life force that pumps my heart.
Then he blinks, breaking the spell and lowering his attention to my lips.
“Open up, my tiny dancer.” With an unyielding hand on my head, he guides my mouth onto his waiting cock.
Pressing past my lips, he sinks slowly, hot and heavy on my tongue. He pushes deep, deeper, and holds me on him as my throat relaxes around the invasion. I breathe through it, my thoughts drifting to Cole right before he cups my breast and squeezes the tight nipple. I groan for more and lift my ass, spreading wider in invitation.
On his knees behind me, he fits himself against my opening and rams, hard and mercilessly, inside me.
Goddamn, I feel that—the stretch, the savage burn. It’s been months. Three months? Four? I don’t even know, but it’s been just as long for Cole. Longer for Trace. He hasn’t come in me since the night before Cole returned from the grave.
Cole gives me a few seconds to adjust. I hover my mouth over Trace’s cock, afraid I might bite him as I brace for the brutish way Cole fucks.
With a sharp exhale, Cole lets go, pounding deep, hammering hard, gripping my ass, smacking it, panting, and grunting something fierce. Trace sits up and shifts to his knees, mirroring Cole’s position behind me. With a hand collaring my throat, he shoves himself into my mouth, thrusting slower than Cole but no less hard.
I suck him with everything I have while reaching up his chest toward his face. He clamps his fingers around mine, holding our hands against his heart.
Then they fuck me, tugging at my hair and pinning my body between the force of their need. It’s depraved. Filthy. Perfect. Everything I imagined it would be.