Filthy Little Pretties - Trilina Pucci Page 0,76
With each movement, our need starts to beg us, coax us for more. We undulate and grind, with quiet grunts and sloppy kisses that feel violent as they quicken. Grey drops my hand that he’s holding and wraps his around my throat, pressing his thick cock against me.
“Fuck,” I exhale against the pressure, “me.”
Our bodies are shaking with the indecently rough drags we take over one other, eyes locked and mouths open. My arms stay lifted above my head permissively, hoping he’ll take what he wants. He moves harder and harder, wanting more of me as I scratch the wall with my nails. My hands drop and grip his shirt, stretching the fabric like I’m trying to rip it from his body.
“Fuck. Me. Grey.”
With an animalistic grunt, he presses against me so hard that my clit pulses, begging for more, as he grips my jaw and holds us in place. My hips try and move against him, desperate to feel the friction. But I’m met with coldness.
That’s what I feel as my leg drops, and he moves away, flushed and rock hard, chest heaving as his eyes drift over my wanton body. He takes a step backward, wiping a hand over his mouth as my own reaches out for him.
“Choose.”
Grey’s words are gritted out between his teeth, and my thoughts delay, causing all my words to stick in my throat as I smooth my wild hair down, panting and breathless, my legs feeling like Jell-O.
“Wait…what’s… Hold on. What are you doing?”
“You want heaven, Cherry? Then you’ll go through hell. Fucking choose.”
Bastard. My spine straightens with his sobering words breaking me from my lust. I shake my head, but he nods slowly, incredulously. My hand slaps against the wall, stretched away from me, as I pull myself sideways, sliding past the door. Reaching down, I twist the handle and pull it, letting it drift, opening wide. My eyebrows raise at Grey, and I let out an exhale, blowing my bangs up.
“See ya, friend.”
Grey doesn’t answer as he starts past me but stops to face me. He reaches down gently, circling his fingers around my wrist, and brings his other hand to the top of my jeans. His eyes lock with mine as my hips give tiny bucks with each button that’s popped until the sides fall open, showing the front of my underwear. He splays his hand over my taut stomach, smoothing over my skin, and my head falls back onto the wall as my eyes close.
“No, huh?”
I shake my head, staring at the ceiling. He dips his fingers a fraction below the band on my panties, gently pulling them forward away from my skin, and lifts my other hand, shoving it down. My eyes spring open as I try to pull it back, but Grey presses it into me, holding my fingers against my swollen center, and begins rubbing.
A gasp leaves my lips as he leans into my ear.
“I’m not asking, Cherry.”
He turns and walks out of my room, leaving me alone, with my hand down my pants and aching for his touch, so I do exactly what he insisted with this little stunt—I go fuck myself.
3:27 a.m. Damn. I haven’t been able to sleep a wink. All I’ve accomplished is tossing and turning, reliving every single moment from last night. Grey’s trying to force my hand, and Liam’s promising patience, but even that will eventually run out. I take a deep breath, letting it out and throw off my blanket. Snatching my phone off my nightstand, I swipe it open and go to the messages. There’s nothing from Grey and probably six from Liam.
God, this is impossible. Choosing Grey means losing Liam. Grey would never share me, even the me as Liam’s friend. And choosing Liam means losing Grey because he would never stick around to witness his defeat. It’s that simple. There is no choice because I’m definitely unwilling to lose either of them, but I might anyway when they finally realize that loving me hurts too much.
I scroll quickly, pulling up Grey’s number, but stop. I switch to Liam but have the same pause. I don’t know what to think about anything anymore. My happy feels like it’s disappearing before my eyes, and I just need everything to pause so I can figure out what to do and find my footing.
I can’t hurt them if I don’t get them.
The phone drops from my hand onto the bed, and I push it away as I stare at the swirly pattern on my comforter before I grab the edges of the blanket and pull it back over me, covering my head, and go back to wishing for sleep that’ll never come.
Grey
“WAKE UP, SLEEPING BEAUTY.”
The dark silk black draperies pull apart from my floor-to-ceiling windows, allowing the light to fill the room and assault my eyes. I pull my comforter over my head, yelling obscenities.
“What the fuck? Shut them.” Peeking out, I throw a pillow in Liam’s direction. “You’re such a dick.”
He dodges it, laughing, and opens the other wall of curtains as well. Grumbling, I stay hidden, but my bed begins to bounce and shake as he pushes hard on the mattress.
“Get up, asshole. You missed workout this morning because you stayed awake wondering about a hot-ass little blonde, who has you sprung. And also, Caroline’s about to lose her shit on some planners who are downstairs for a mock-run for her party. Whatever the fuck that means.”
I have to yell from under my blanket to make sure he hears me.
“I didn’t wonder shit. You’re the one who blew me up all night like a fucking middle school girl, all tragic because she’s not returning your texts. Like I said last night, what about me not wanting to share her means you keep talking to me about her?”
“Fuck you. Get up.”
“No, and if you start crying again—”
Liam laughs loudly saying, “Asshole,” as I pop my arm out and fumble around for my phone, jerking it inside the blanket.
I’m secretly relieved Liam bitched all night; it allowed everything that was brewing between us to settle. We found our rhythm back. My whole life Liam’s been my other hand, just like on the boat, and for the first time we’ve found ourselves unable to work in tandem. It’s fucking with both of us, but we’ll handle this the way guys handle everything—we’ll ignore it until we combust or it goes away.
I swipe open my messages under the blanket. Fuck. No messages from Donovan. I expected something, maybe even a message with fangs. But there’s nothing.
“How long did I sleep?” I grumble, seeing that it’s noon, and roll over to sit up. Placing my bare feet on the carpeted floor and my phone back on my nightstand, I stretch my arms above my head. “All right, give me twenty minutes and we’ll eat.”
“Did you hear from her?” he questions, taking a crisp bite into the red apple he’s holding. “I know you looked. Don’t try and bullshit me.”
“No.”
“So she’s icing out both of us.”
I crack my neck and roll my sore shoulders, trying to hide how much I hate hearing even the insinuation that they had a moment.
“Or she’s trying to figure out how to let you down gently…you are the sensitive one after all.”
Liam lets out a laugh and walks toward the door as I look over my shoulder to see him flipping me off, grabbing a grin from me.
“Hurry up,” he barks, walking out.
As soon as the door shuts behind him, I relax back until I’m lying down again with my eyes closed. I feel the heavy drift taking over when a hard-thrown and very wet gut check hits my stomach, making me yell out, “Fuck!” and roll to my side, doubling over.