Page 45 of The Demons We Hide

My phone goes off with an incoming message, and I pull it free as I finish unlocking the door to the carriage house. It’s not a message at all, but a video. My heart leaps into my throat and I quickly rush into the front of the house that I rebuilt myself and slam the door behind me.

Juliet sits on the floor of what looks like a messy bedroom. There are notebooks sticking out from beneath the bed, frilly sheets, and feminine clothes practically flooding out of the doorway into what has to be a closet. That’s not what captures my attention, though. It’s not the place. It’s not the room. It’sher.

My cock kicks against the front of my jeans. I ignore it in favor of eating up every inch of the video streaming from Gio’s cell. Then, his voice comes over the line and I clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle a response before I see the muted notification at the top of my screen.

“Take off the shirt,” he says. “And come here.”

I rush across the living room, tearing ass down the short hall and into my computer room. My ass hits the seat a second before my fingers fly across the keyboard. I plug my phone into the monitors and blessedly the video feed transfers, blowing up the image of her across six different monitors.

As Juliet takes a step towards Gio on the screens, I lean back and finally let my hand drift down my chest, abdomen, and reach for the front of my jeans. Her shirt disappears, after a warning comment from my best friend, revealing all of that creamy smooth skin.

“Fuck.” I groan. My cock jerks against the confines of my jeans, demanding to be set free. I bite down on my lower lip as Juliet turns and settles herself against Gio’s chest.

My eyes move to her tits. Round, full, tipped in the most beautiful rose-colored nipples. I’d give anything in the world to suck on them, nip them, bite them. I grip myself through my jeans as a bolt of pleasure shoots through me at nothing more than the sight of her naked and bare.

“Spread your thighs.” My hold on my cock tightens.

Don’t you fucking blow this for me,I mentally warn the damn thing. Coming in my jeans like a pre-teen with his first hooker is not how I want to spend this night. Not when Gio has given me exactly what I asked for.

Juliet’s response, a flat “no” makes me smile. Gio’s a master at his craft, though, and she doesn’t get to keep her legs closed for long. He spreads her wide open, hooking her legs over each of his legs as she grits her teeth and looks for all the world like she’d rather punch him in the dick than ride it.

I pop the button of my pants and slowly slide the zipper south.

“Look,” Gio urges, and I don’t know what they’re looking at, but whatever it is has Juliet’s gaze turning towards wherever he’s hidden his recording cell.

Her cheeks flush a pretty pink and her thighs tremble. Eyes the color of an ocean so deep and vast peer back at me.A mirror,I realize. He must be forcing her to look at herself because there’s no way Juliet would agree to be recorded like this for my pleasure. Well, not yet anyway…

I’m going to owe my brother so fucking much for this because it’s almost as if I’m right there with them, being forced to watch as his hands move over her soft flesh, stroking right to where I want to be. Gio mentions me and her eyes close as her back arches. He’s gentle with her, his touch calm and intentional.

He doesn’t rush it. You can’t with a woman like her. She needs to be stroked towards her climax, teased into submission, forced to take her pleasure in a way that she could never let herself have any other way.

I reach beneath the waistband of my boxers and free my cock completely. It juts straight up, a pearly bead of pre cum already visible on the head. I know if I touch the front of my boxers, they’ll already be wet with the stuff.

Gio asks her if she liked it—what she did with me—and I hold my breath waiting for her answer. Unfortunately, she denies us both.

“You’re an asshole.”

Gio laughs at that.

I fist my cock, gripping it at the base as I watch her instinctively try to pull her legs together and Gio forces them back open with his own. Neither of them seem to even notice the action. She’s sniping at him and he’s still stroking her skin, gentling her to prepare her for what’s to come.

They’re trying to kill me, I decide after several more minutes of watching the two of them bicker as Juliet tries and fails, many times, to get out of the trap he’s laid for her. My cock remains stiff the entire time as my eyes eat her up.

Her pussy is wet and pouty, the lips slick with her own juices and my mouth waters for a taste. G pulls her back harder against his chest and her back arches, tits pressed out as she grinds against his lap. Her hips swivel automatically, her lips pinching tight. She wants to come. I can tell just by looking at her, and I’d do anything to be there with them right now, to be between her legs and give her that release she craves.

But we need to be slow with her. She’s distrustful. She’s wounded. Hurt. As much as I want to, I can’t lock her away forever and expect her to truly be mine. She has to realize that there’s no getting away. That every road she ever takes will lead her straight back to me, to us.

“Did he tie you down? Make you scream as you came on his cock? Did Lex find that place inside of you that makes you forget everything else? That makes you remember that pleasure can drive out pain?”

I grin at the blush that creeps back across her face. Gio’s always been a filthy talker. The few times we’ve shared some women, he’d been the one to talk them right towards a screaming orgasm. I never realized how much that could come in handy.

Juliet releases a low gasp at his words and shoots back her own. “Not always.”

Yes,I silently deny.Always.

Her thighs are coated in her own wetness. Gio is tormenting her and I couldn’t approve more. I stroke my cock, a single slow pass up my length, squeezing lightly at the head before I return my grip to the base once more. Gio taunts her some more, his fingers moving closer to her cunt as he reminds her of her own wetness. She stiffens, but doesn’t rip herself away from his arms.

She could if she really wanted to. Something keeps her there. Something keeps her from denying what we all know she wants. Comfort. Pleasure. The sweet relief that only we can give her.

---