mine as his head tips back down.
“Ask me nicely.”
“No.”
My hair is swept over my shoulder as the heat from Liam’s body engulfs me from behind. His lips graze my neck as he inhales up my jawline, making my head tilt and breath suck in between my teeth. Lines aren’t just being blurred. They don’t fucking exist anymore.
“Come on, Van. Ask us nicely,” Liam whispers, and my eyes shut.
When I open them, Grey flicks his cigarette into the fire. He licks his lips, letting his eyes drift down my body to where Liam’s finger is tracing the hem of the T-shirt at the top of my thigh. Liam’s finger runs back and forth indecently slow, barely ducking under the fabric, but I’m already panting, wet, and hungry. So fucking hungry. They’re really good at this.
“Were you actually talking about smoking?” I ask, already suspecting the answer.
“Not even a little, Cherry.”
Grey walks toward me, then past me, and Liam’s finger leaves my leg at the same time. My eyes blink, let go from the spell I was under, as I turn around, watching them walk to the couch.
Liam looks over his shoulder and gives that crooked grin. “Come on, Van.”
They each lower themselves down on the couch, leaving a sizeable distance between them. It’s for me, but only if I’m basically lying down.
I look at Grey as he spreads his legs, adjusting the large bulge in his pants, and lets out a low growl. My arms join behind my back, grasping my shirt as he stares at me. I’m nervous, but I want their eyes on me. I like it. I shift my eyes to Liam, who runs his hand over his head and lifts a book from the end table. I recognize the cover immediately from school, Lady Chatterley’s Lover. I smile as I bite my lip, giving a tiny giggle.
He pats the space on the couch next to him. “Remember when we were little and I would read to you when we had slumber parties?”
My feet are moving toward the couch, to Liam, as I nod. “I do.”
The fabric of the couch brushes my knees as I stand, clad in Grey’s T-shirt, looking down at Liam. If I sit, I won’t be sitting. This entire night has been a series of one thing meaning another. And now I’m standing here, just like in my dream. They heard it all. And they’re recreating the moments. I’m living in my own fantasy.
“Cherry, sit down and let Liam read to you.”
I stare at the fabric of the oversized black couch. Am I doing this? Are we really doing this?
Liam’s hand runs up my leg, leaving a trail of chills, and ducks under my shirt, stopping at my hip.
“Van, would you like me to read to you?”
Words said one way but that ask a completely different question.
My voice is husky, a breathless plea. “Yes, please.”
Grey
DONOVAN’S KNEES FIND THE CUSHIONS as she crawls onto the massive couch. She keeps them tucked under herself as she cozies up next to Liam, drawn into the crook of his arm, so her back is partially against him.
She’s flushed, turned on, maybe even nervous, and it’s everything and more than I thought it would be. I woke up a half hour before her because my dick was rock hard. The leg she had hitched over me was giving way to her slow and soft drags up and down my leg. She was fucking herself in her sleep, moaning my name and then Liam’s.
It was all I could do to not wake her up and do my worst. But when Liam woke up, something happened. The energy changed. Because the more she moaned our names, the more we knew. Donovan’s always been ours, and this was bound to happen. It’s not as if Liam and I are inexperienced in this particular kind of fun. Girls are always more than willing. We’ve had our fair share.
But this is different. Donovan makes it that way.
I’ve wanted to watch, eat, fuck, and savor her since she stepped out of that damn limo. Now more than anything, I want to hear my name cried from that gorgeous mouth. I want her to beg me to come. And I want to make this fantasy real for her. Every filthy little part.
I reach out, gripping her ankles, and pull them to my lap as she huffs a breathy sigh, giving me her bright eyes. Laying one over the other, I run my fingers over her petite