Page 39 of Colin

Fox withdrew slowly, feeling the pull of Colin’s flesh against him, his hole protesting Fox’s withdrawal. He slid back in with a hiss, repeating the process as he watched Dane fuck Colin’s mouth. Dane was keeping it shallow, making it easy for Colin to push him away if it became too much. But Colin had his hand wrapped around the base of him to make up the difference, and Fox couldn’t imagine him pulling away from Dane anytime soon. Not with the way he was moaning around Dane’s cock with each of Fox’s thrusts.

Fox let himself give in to the rhythm, and then it was just a haze of sensation. The desert scent of Colin, deep and rich from his arousal. The lethal grip of him around Fox’s cock. And the sounds. Skin slapping skin, the slurping of Colin’s greedy mouth, the muffled grunts and groans and Dane’s whispered, “Just like that.”

Fox wanted to taunt, to tease, to draw it out for hours. He knew their Colin liked that. But Dane was right: it was taking everything in Fox not to come in two seconds like some teenage virgin. It was just so tight, so perfect. And at some point, Colinhad wrapped his legs around Fox’s hips, and he was meeting him thrust for thrust, the motions erratic given his split attention, but still enthusiastic as fuck.

But it was Dane who lost it first. Fox heard the shattered groan he let out, the messy sound of Colin swallowing as best he could.

As soon as Dane moved back, Fox slid Colin back up the bed and dropped over him, wrapping a hand around Colin’s cock and fucking him in earnest.

“Look at you,” he crooned. “Look at how well you’re taking us. Dane’s cum in your throat and my cock in your ass. You were made for this. Made for us.” He was only half-aware of what he was saying. He knew he was spouting filth, but he needed Colin to come. He needed him to come right the fuck now. “You’re our little kept slut, and we’re never letting you go.”

That seemed to do it. Colin’s cock jerked in Fox’s hand, spouting his release. And none the fuck too soon. Fox’s hips stuttered as he emptied himself into Colin’s waiting channel.

He collapsed to the side, trying not to crush their human underneath him. There was the sound of panting. The dip of the bed as Dane climbed on. Fox opened bleary eyes to see Dane stroking Colin’s hair. Fox watched as Colin’s eyes drooped closed, even as he kept muttering, “Holy shit,” repeatedly.

Fox looked at the mess they’d made of him. He had cum on his face, little streaks that had escaped his eager swallows. Fox knew his hole would be leaking the same, and it took everything in him to resist fingering the evidence. Colin’s body was limp and sated, and on top of his desert scent, he smelled like pure fucking sex.

They’d wrecked him completely, and he’d never even asked for a bite.

eleven

Dane

Dane and Fox waited until Colin drifted off—wiped clean and tucked under the covers, despite his grumbling at their so-called fussing—before sharing a glance and rising from the bed. They tossed on their clothes in silence and made their way to the front porch.

Dane needed time to come back down to earth. Because fuck, how was he supposed to function in any normal way after what had just happened? After having Colin’s inexperienced, eager mouth on him, taking whatever Dane gave him with enthusiastic moans, all the while writhing on Fox’s relentless cock?

Was Dane supposed to go on living as usual, acting like it wasn’t the single hottest experience of his life? That long, slender throat, stretched out just for him, that lithe body on display, that willingness to let both of them use him however they wanted.

And then, of course, there had been that sweet little “hi” when they’d been lying on the bed before the madness, that softness Colin only let show at the most intimate moments.

Had anyone else seen that side of him? The rare glimpses of what lay underneath when he let his guard down? His dad maybe? Some lucky ex-boyfriend skulking in his past?

And why did that thought make Dane want to murder someone?

“Earth to Dane.”

Dane did his best to focus his eyes. He and Fox had settled on the porch swing at some point without him realizing, each stretched out in their opposite corner. It was their usual haunt for late-night discussions. Of course, the sun had barely set, so Dane didn’t really think this fit anyone’s definition of “late-night.” Should they have let Colin drift off so early? His sleep schedule was already wonky enough that it was concerning. Or maybe he needed whatever rest he could get, no matter the time.

“I said, Earth toDane.”

Dane finally looked to his brother, who was somehow managing to look both irritated and ridiculously smug at the same time. Such an annoying expression for Dane to see on a mirror image of his own face.

The smugness took over the irritation as Fox realized he finally had his attention. “Sucked your brain right out your dick, did he?”

Dane wrinkled his nose. “Crass.”

“I’m always crass.” Fox waggled his brows like some stupid caricature of a lecher. “Colin likes it.”

“Does he?” Dane didn’t know why he was even arguing the point. Colin clearly did, if for no other reason than because it gave him an excuse to tell Fox he was an idiot. But the smugness radiating off his brother was making him surly.

Fox didn’t rise to the bait, only gave his brows one more waggle for good measure before settling into a more serious expression. “So you didn’t find him?”

Down to business, then.

Dane planted a foot and pushed, setting the swing into motion. “Lost his scent at the edge of town. If it’s him at all, and not some other random vampire lurking around.”

They’d seen it often enough over the years: rogue vampires coming into town to take advantage of the unpopulated desert areas and proximity to the border to drain victims with impunity. Sometimes they were feral; sometimes they were just assholes who saw vampirism as an excuse to lose all morals. For the last two decades, Fox and Dane had taken it upon themselves to put a stop to it when they found it.

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