Dirty Little Secrets (Hillcrest Prep #1.5) - Trilina Pucci Page 0,26

my hair, pulling so hard it hurts.

“She likes that. Her pussy just got wetter,” Jackson groans appreciatively.

I’m full, trapped between my men, being fucked like an animal, used for their pleasure, and I fucking love it.

Jackson’s pace picks up, and my warm walls clench against him, feeling the familiar build inside of me. He’s pushing in and out, faster and faster, slapping against my ass, pulling me back into himself with more force. His groans and grunts are animalistic as his thick cock fills and stretches me.

Each time Jackson pulls me back, Holt holds me in place by my hair as his cock pushes deeper and deeper into my mouth. I choke against Holt’s force, spit glistening around my lips as he holds my head in place, thrusting faster into my mouth. They’re relentless on each end of me, tearing toward their climax, bringing me to my own.

It’s all building, more and more, faster and faster. Holt fucking my mouth. Jackson pounding my pussy. And I reach down, rubbing fast against my clit, whimpering, fucking crying as the climax hits, rolling my eyes back and my whole body tensing as I scream into Holt’s cock.

Warmth rushes into my mouth as Holt groans, “Fuck,” and I swallow him down, swirling my tongue around his sensitive head and dropping my hand from my clit.

Jackson’s fingers dig into my skin as his hand reaches around, covering one of my breasts to pull my back to his chest as he thrusts two more times, letting out a grunt and emptying inside of me.

Holt stands, breathing heavily, and rubs a hand over his chest as he stares at me. My eyes stay locked to his as Jackson kisses my neck softly, saying, “I love you,” into my skin.

“I love you,” I mouth to Holt, and he smiles, mouthing back, “We love you too.”

Five Years later

“Would you quit? We’re in a church,” I chide, glaring at Holt, pushing his hand from my leg.

“Uh-uh. Mine.” He smirks, grabbing my thigh anyway, settling into the pew.

That’s Holt, always such a damn brute. I roll my eyes before looking around the beautifully decorated church, watching as people file in for the wedding. I don’t know the bride or groom. They’re business associates with my guys. All I cared about was taking a trip back to New York, since we spend most of our time in Georgia now, not that I mind.

Despite all the odds, we made it through high school and then college without any issues. We just make sense, maybe not to the world at large but certainly to us. Even their parents accepted our unconventional relationship.

“How do you know the groom, again?” I say quietly.

Holt answers, pressing his hand deeper between my crossed legs, “His father is on the Senate committee for transportation. We’ve been friendly because of the bridge project we’re doing here.”

My boys started their own construction company and have quickly risen to heights they couldn’t have imagined.

Jackson leans in closer to my right, whispering, “You know I heard rumors about the couple.”

My skin prickles as his breath warms my skin.

“Oh yeah, what?”

With Jackson’s lips almost on my ear and Holt’s hand on my thigh, I’m biting my lip and going straight to hell over my thoughts.

“Rumors that they dabbled,” he adds, “with our lifestyle.”

My eyes grow wide, and I turn to look at him. “Really?”

He nods, giving me a wink before turning back to the front, saying, “Yeah. You remember Kai Grantham? From high school—he’s the rumored extra. But I don’t see him here, so maybe that’s false.”

“Um, yeah, I remember him. He was insanely hot and paired up with that terrible witch of a girl, Caroline, my junior year at Hillcrest.”

Jackson scowls. “Insanely hot?”

Holt’s grip on the inside of my thigh tightens. “That’s gonna cost ya later, baby.”

I swallow and fold my lips under my teeth, trying not to smile. I love it when they get all possessive and alpha on me.

“Nobody’s ever hotter than my boys.”

They both nod as the music starts, ending Jackson’s story as the cathedral doors open to pastel-colored dresses and flower wreaths adorned on heads. I look back to the groom standing at the front of the church, adjusting his tie, seemingly nervous as the bridesmaids proceed.

We never did the marriage thing. I don’t believe in it, but we’re committed to each other, tied forever by the love we feel, and that’s enough.

Little flower girls walk past sprinkling petals and trying to stay focused on getting the steps