Page 86 of #Bossholes

There’s a tension between the three of us as Wyatt climbs on the bed behind me, an anticipation of what's to come. It’s palpable, like it has a heartbeat, a life force of its own. After tonight, there’s no turning back, no pretending nothing happened. Our relationship is going to be a complicated mess of strings, and that doesn’t scare me as much as it should.

Wyatt peppers kisses along my spine, his lips moving down as he unzips my dress. When he speaks, his voice is gruff, gravely. “What do you want, baby girl?”

“I…” I take a deep breath and frame Brantley’s face with my hands. “I want you both. At the same time.”

Maverick’s groan is loud, and the shuffling noise behind him sounds like he might be undressing. “Goddamn. Put your fingers in that sweet cunt, Brant. Let me know how wet our little fucktoy is.”

“Is that how it is? You want to be a dirty slut for us?” Brantley’s smile is wide and maybe a bit wicked as he leans down and rips the lace from between my legs. Jesus. It’s so freaking hot, it really is, but I can’t let him know that or I won’t have any panties left.

I open my mouth to protest—even if it is halfhearted—but before I can get a word out, he slips a finger inside me and I cry out, gripping his shoulders and lean back against Wyatt.

He tilts his head toward the heavens, mumbling something I can’t quite catch, and his eyes flutter closed for several beats. “Fuck. She’s fucking soaked.”

“Such a good toy,” Maverick grunts with a curse, his voice strained, and I can only imagine how hard it is for him to stay put knowing we’re only one floor above him. “You’re always ready for us, aren’t you, firecracker? I bet she’d love to feelboth of you inside that perfect pussy. Next time, we’ll fuck it together.”

Wyatt pulls the dress over my head, one of his hands grabbing my hair, and the other travels down my back.Holy fuck. I rock my hips back and forth, pushing my ass against him. I’m not sure which hole he’s going for, but I don’t think it matters. I want it. I want all of it.

Slowly, so fucking slow, his finger skims along the curve of my ass and as he sinks lower, my entire body tenses. Waiting.

“Relax,” Brantley whispers against my lips as Wyatt’s finger glides alongside his brother's, both of them inside my pussy side by side.

Fuck.Fuck.

My nails dig into Brantley’s shoulders, pressing into his skin as I adjust, stretching around them. It hurts, but only for a second before the sensation becomes nothing but pleasure.

They move opposite of each other, one pushing in while the other pulls out, the sensation wreaking havoc on my senses. But right now I need them to fuck me harder. Faster. Dirtier.

I’m so fucking desperate for them to sink inside me, this isn’t nearly enough.

With a low groan, one that rumbles deep in my chest, I circle my hips, raising up and down, fucking myself with their fingers. It’s not enough, but it’s close.

Wyatt pulls my hair, forcing my head back as his mouth drags along the length of my neck. “That’s so fucking sexy, baby girl. Use us. I want you to fuck yourself until your cum drips from our hands.”

Brantley grips my thigh, encouraging me to move faster, to take them deeper while his lips slide across mine. His kiss is teasing, shallow, and I want nothing more than for him to swallow me whole.

I want the two of them to consume me. I want to close the distance between us, slip my tongue into his mouth, and lose myself in his kiss, but I can’t.

Not with Wyatt’s grip on my hair.

I move faster, their fingers plunge deeper, and as Brantley’s thumb finds my clit, I cry out. He presses down and rubs it over and over. My pussy flutters around them, my thighs quiver, and my mouth opens on a silent scream.

“That’s it, firecracker.” Maverick’s breathing is heavy, like he’s stroking himself to every whimper, every moan. “Come for us.”

And I fucking do. My orgasm hits me like a freight train, rolling through my body, and I swear I see stars. The entire world goes black, my legs give out, and my entire soul convulses.

I fall over on the bed while Wyatt and Brantley scramble to get undressed. Then their hands are on me, lifting me up, and before I realize what’s happening I’m straddling Brantley.

He positions himself at my entrance, and as Wyatt pushes on my shoulders, I slide down his thick cock. The groan that leaves his mouth is feral, and I whimper, my head falling back and my eyes closing.

“Goddamn. You feel so fucking good.” Brantley’s hands run up my back, and he unhooks my bra, tossing it beside us.

Maverick curses. “I’m going to wreck that tight cunt later. This is torture. Pure fucking torture.”

Wyatt chuckles, returning to my backside and dribbles something cold and wet down the crack of my ass. Lube. Oh, god. I’m excited but so nervous. What if it hurts? What if I don’t like it? What if I like it too much? What if?—?

Brantley crashes his mouth to mine, his tongue gliding past my lips. He kisses me like a starved man, like he can’t get enough, like he’s been waiting for years for this one singular moment. He’s everything and so thoroughly distracting, I almostforget about Wyatt. Almost. But then the tip of his finger slides in my ass. It burns, but only for a second. He’s moving at a glacial pace as he sinks his digit in a little deeper.

Brantley shifts beneath me, moving his hips, fucking me at a leisure pace. They’re both letting me adjust to this new sensation, but I’m ready for more—I need more.

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