Page 74 of Marking Mia

“Finn,” I whisper, unsure if I’m protesting or encouraging.

He doesn’t respond verbally. Instead, he shifts me slightly so he can lower his head, taking one of my nipples into hismouth. The hot, wet suction sends a bolt of arousal straight between my legs, and I can’t help the moan that escapes me.

His tongue circles my nipple, teeth grazing it lightly before he sucks it deep again. One hand continues to knead my other breast while his free hand slides down my stomach, fingers spreading my thighs wider under the water.

“You’re making me horny again,” I complain weakly, arching into his touch. “My pussy will never get a break at this rate.”

Finn chuckles darkly against my skin as he switches to my other breast, sucking it with dedication while his fingers begin to explore between my legs. Despite my soreness, I find myself responding, growing slick for him as he presses gently against my folds.

“Your body was made for this,” he murmurs against my breast. “Made for us.”

Suddenly, the bathroom door opens, and I jerk in surprise, water sloshing around us.

Jace walks in, carrying a tray of food, his eyes immediately finding mine.

A slow grin spreads across his face as he takes in the scene—me naked in the tub with Finn, his mouth on my breast, his hand moving between my legs under the water.

“Well, hello there, Mia,” Jace says, setting the tray on a nearby counter. “How’s your morning been, honey?”

My face burns with embarrassment, but my body doesn’t seem to mind the audience. If anything, Jace’s presence heightens my arousal, my pussy clenching around the fingers Finn has slipped inside me.

“It’s, um, going good,” I gasp, my voice hitching as Finn’s thumb finds my clit.

Jace pulls up a stool beside the tub, precariously balanced at the edge so he can reach the tray. He spears a piece of fluffy omelet with a fork and brings it to mylips.

“Eat,” he commands softly. “You need your strength.”

I open my mouth obediently, accepting the bite of food. It’s delicious—cheesy and perfectly seasoned—and I hum with pleasure as I chew. All the while, Finn continues his dual assault, sucking one nipple while his fingers work magic between my legs under the water.

It’s surreal, being fed by one man while another pleasures me, yet it somehow feels right. Natural, even. I open for another bite, this time a piece of juicy strawberry that Jace traces along my lower lip before letting me take it from the fork.

“What’s Finn doing to you down there?” Jace asks, his voice dropping an octave as he feeds me another bite of omelet. “Tell me.”

I nearly choked on my food, surprised by the direct question. Finn’s fingers slow but don’t stop, clearly waiting for my answer.

“He’s... touching me,” I whisper.

Jace shakes his head, pressing a slice of melon to my lips. “Not good enough, baby. I want details. Tell me exactly what his fingers are doing to that sweet pussy.”

I can see the beginnings of Jace’s erection pressing against his shorts as he watches my breasts bounce in the water when Finn makes me jump from his finger in my pussy.

“He has two fingers inside me,” I admit, my voice barely audible. “And his thumb is circling my clit.”

“Good girl,” Jace praises, feeding me another bite. “Is he making you wet? Is your pussy getting nice and slick for him?”

I nod, feeling increasingly embarrassed as the pleasure builds from Finn’s relentless fingers.

“Say it,” Jace insists. “I want to hear you say the words.”

“Yes,” I gasp as Finn’s teeth graze my nipple. “He’s making me wet. My pussy is so slick for him.”

“Fuck,” Jace groans, adjusting himself through his shorts. “You’re so perfect, Mia. So fucking perfect for us.”

The praise washes over me, intensifying every sensation. I’m desperate for release now, my hips moving subtly against Finn’s hand as Jace continues to feed me. The mundane act of eating with the building sexual tension is strangely erotic, keeping me on edge without letting me tip over.

Just as I finish the last bite of food, Finn’s fingers withdraw from my pussy, leaving me empty and aching. I whimper in protest, but he’s already standing, water cascading down his muscular body.

“Bathtime is over,” he says, helping me to my feet. “You’re clean enough.”

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