The cake is moved from the bed, and with the two guys at the foot of it, Ransom at my back, I tell them everything, starting from the moment my mom told me what she needed and expected of me.
I share every word that came from Anthony, everything that’s happened with him, and all the shit from today with Amy.
I tell them about the gravesite today with my sister, and how my mom showed up, shocking us both.
When I’m done, they don’t judge or try to justify anyone’s actions.
They don’t try to pacify me in any way.
They don’t care about any of that, they only care about the way I’m handling it, how I’m feeling.
And I’m feeling a lot.
Too much.
I stand from the bed and they follow my every move.
I don’t want to bury anything, and I don’t want to hide, but I do want to let go.
I want to cut it all out while we can, so all that’s left is what matters most.
Us.
Me and Ransom.
Beretta and Arsen.
And nothing else.
I meet Ransom’s liquid eyes.
I turn off the lights.
Someone starts some music.
My man finds me in the dark.
He knows what I need, and he doesn’t make me wait.
He gets right to it, drives me against the wall, pins my hands high over my head, and grinds his hips into me. I fight for his lips, but he denies me, instead kissing and sucking on my neck.
Using one hand to keep mine pinned, his other pushes my underwear and sleep shorts from my body, and instead of letting me free to take off my top, he dips beneath it, teasing and twisting my nipples until I’m a whimpering mess.
Only then does he release me and tears my shirt from my body.
I try to undress him, but he grabs my wrists, halting me.
“Not yet, baby.” His hands fall to my breasts, massaging, squeezing and then he spins me around, plants my hands flat on the wall and lifts me from behind, his hands wrapped around my thighs from underneath, spreading me open completely.
He walks forward, so the edge of my knees meet the wall.
“Put your fingers where you want me,” he rasps. His teeth scraping my shoulder.
I don’t hesitate, my fingers slip between my legs.
The way he’s holding me, I’m wide open, able to easily find the spot that’s most needy.
I rub along the sides first, teasing myself, and my thighs clench. I pinch my clit, rubbing and rolling, and soon, my hips are chasing the feeling.
“Ransom, please,” I moan.
He growls, biting me. “Come, baby. Come and I’ll fill you with mine.”
My pussy clenches. Leaning farther into him, I slide a finger inside, rubbing, and my head falls to his shoulder.
Low, deep moans flow from the other side of the room and my lips curve as my body convulses.
Ransom squeezes, but he gives me no time to come down.
He lowers my legs and spins me, but he doesn’t take us to the bed, he hooks one of my wobbly legs over his shoulder and buries his face in my pussy.
He groans against me, sucking and flicking his tongue between his lips and my body starts to shake, the aftershock orgasm far more powerful than the first.
I moan loudly, but I don’t care.
I grind on his face, and when I’m about to come, I pull back, shove him when he isn’t expecting it and slam my mouth to his.
He chuckles, wincing when I bite his lip, and then he’s tearing off his belt, shoving down his jeans, flipping us.
I chuckle, but it turns into a deep moan when he shoves inside me in one, full deep thrust and my back flies off the carpet.
“Now you can wait to come when I do,” he tells me.
I squeeze him with my pussy in protest, and he laughs into my mouth, his tongue sharing my flavor with me.
“Pout, baby, and I’ll give you a real reason,” he teases.
I pull my legs all the way back, and he groans.
“Fuck.”
His thrusts grow quicker, harder, wilder.
He slams into me over and over.
But when he’s about to come, he pulls out.
His cock is thick and dripping, and he glides it down, his eyes flicking up to mine as he meets my ass.
I tense at first, but he massages my thighs and I open up.
His pointer and middle fingers slip inside my pussy, slowly working in and out while the head of his cock pushes against my ass.