Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
I pushed my tongue against his, and then around it, as sensually as I could, and I started unbuttoning his shirt.
Christ.
I loved how my mind swam. How I fucking drowned in the alcohol and excitement. Nobody was stopping me now.
Goddammit. With his shirt undone, my fingers brushed over more fabric. “You know a surefire way to tell if a man is over forty-five? He still uses undershirts.”
He chuckled huskily and pushed me off him, down on the cushions next to him, causing my stomach to do a somersault. And I was treated to an unbelievably sexy sight of him removing his shirt and then yanking his undershirt over his head. Happy sigh. Broad shoulders, chest hair, and…just him. He crawled over me and undid my pants.
“Any respectable man, of any age, will wear an undershirt, dear.”
“I don’t.” I grinned up at him.
“Well… You’re pure filth anyway.”
I parted my lips in an exhale as he slipped a hand down my briefs, at the same time as he flicked the tip of his tongue against my upper lip.
Groan.
He rubbed my cock unhurriedly, not stroking or anything, just feeling me. Touching me. But he let me speed things along by squirming my way out of my pants, shirt, socks… I made sure he lost his clothes too. Then we were both naked on the couch, making out and riling each other up, forgetting all about the man we had in common. His brother. My husband.
“You’re gonna have to beg for my cock, boy,” he whispered. “Beg for every fucking inch.”
My eyes flashed open, and I moaned embarrassingly loudly.
I was ready to beg.
“Take me to bed. I’ll beg till I can’t walk.”
“Please…”
Stop teasing me.
I whimpered and white-knuckled the sheets, and I couldn’t fucking push out my ass any more than I already was.
Dean had too much patience.
I’d lost my composure the second we’d landed in his bed. He had me begging. Reduced to a mess of drunk desperation that tried everything in order to get fucked. I clung to him, I was on my hands and knees for him, I sucked his long and thick cock until he was groaning and fucking my throat, we rolled around on the mattress and made out and stroked each other and got grabby and—then I was back on all fours after he manhandled me into position, before he finally gave me what I wanted. The moment he’d rolled on a condom, he gripped my hips tightly and forced his way inside me.
I gasped at the painful pleasure that tore through me like wildfire, the kind of intense burn that just made me yearn for more. Each thrust put out one fire and lit a larger one.
His bedroom filled up with our groans and heavy breathing.
And his filthy fucking words.
“We would’ve wrecked your beautiful body together.”
“Exquisite little slut. Take my cock.”
“I wish he could see this. What a perfect whore he created.”
“You’re meant to be shared and bred by those who care for you, boy.”
“You should be covered in marks and come all hours of the day.”
I moaned loudly and pushed back against him, and we set an intoxicating rhythm together in which I found liberty in the fantasy of being passed around. Between him and Walker. Maybe others. With Master claiming ownership and controlling my mind.
My pain was their bliss that became my own euphoria.
“Do you want Walker and me to breed you?”
“Yes,” I cried out hoarsely.
He rumbled an appreciative sound and pulled me back. “Fuck yourself on me, pet. Show me how needy you are.”
No need to tell me twice. I took all of him every time I sank down on his cock, and I drowned in the attention he gave me. His hands roamed my body, his lips on my neck, his harsh breaths ghosting over my skin.
“He should’ve been at your little orgy event the other week,” he whispered, out of breath. I shuddered violently at the images he forced upon me. And the memories he made me relive.
I’d had fun at that party. I’d gotten fucked just right by an old friend. Jack. A Dom my age. We’d gone to school together. Dean had played with Jack’s man, and I’d fantasized… Holy fuck, I was seeing us now too. What I wouldn’t give to be thrown into a pile with Jack, Franklin, Dean, Lane, and Walker. My Master, my Owner.
“I wanna be the animal you all fuck,” I admitted breathlessly.
“As you should be.” Dean sucked on my neck and started stroking my cock. “He will own you again, Macklin.”
No.
No, he wouldn’t.
“Mark my words,” he groaned. “And this time, he’ll let his brother get a taste.”
Oh God.
It wasn’t long after that I came so hard that all the air was punched out of my lungs.
But the night wasn’t over.
December 21
Ty Madison
Fuck me, it felt good to be home.