Page 142 of Craving Consequences

The man beneath me gives a low, tortured groan that sings in my ear. It vibrates down the length of my spine where I’m pressed into his chest. His fingers cut lines across my restless hips as his friend jerks him.

“This?” Lachlan taunts, stroking with even pumps.

“Please...” I gasp, knees pulling wide in desperation. Giving him all the room in the world to penetrate me.

Lachlan never releases me from his ravenous scrutiny as he presses the head to my fluttering opening. He notches it in place. Breaches me with the cap. Leaves me stretched and panting.

Van doesn’t wait. He drags me down onto him in one, reckless stroke. He takes my soaked channel until there’s no more room and I am so full I sob.

“Please!” I beg, thrashing and trembling as I’m made to take him. As I’m held down and impaled to the point of sweet pain.

“My turn,” Lachlan declares, crouching between oursprawled thighs. “Hold her, Van. Hold her for me.”

The hands on my hips drift down to force my thighs wider. The owner says nothing as we both watch the man before us run the flat of two fingers up between my lips. Scissor my clit. My folds are spread and smeared with the combination of my and Lachlan’s releases that he gathers from Van’s shaft.

It feels amazing.

The feeling of being so full combined with the slow rub of Lachlan’s fingers moving back and forth has my head falling back and my core rushing with the promise of release. I don’t understand why I need to be held until I feel the nudge.

My head jerks down just in time to watch the digits push past my opening and join his friend’s cock inside me.

My howl of pain and pleasure tangles with Van’s snarl as I’m stretched.

“Ride us, Everly. I want to feel you taking us with your hole stretched.”

I don’t think I can move under the intense pressure, but I try. I make several futile attempts that go sideways when Lachlan clicks his tongue and leans in to lick my clit.

“I’m going to cum again,” I whimper, already shaking. “It’s so tight...”

Lachlan traces the bump in lazy circles. His fingers keep working in forced pumps that dig his knuckles somewhere inside me that has my toes curling.

The compression is unbearable. Sweat slides down my spine, collects across the top of my lips, plasters bits of hair to my temple. I can’t breathe as he runs the flat of his tongue up in hardstrokes like someone enjoying an ice cream cone in the sweltering summer.

“Please ... please...” is all I can manage as he pushes deeper and I convulse. My heels dig into the sides of the cushion as I hit the ledge of my limit.

My body heaves and lifts. It’s too high. Too fast.

Van and Lachlan slip free with a slick, wet sound.

But it’s the swipe Lachlan was about to take. The perfect position of his tongue. It happens before any of us can process.

Instead of my clit, his tongue drags across the full, glistening length of Van’s cock. Cleaning what I had left behind.

He freezes.

I freeze.

But it’s Van who chokes on a sharp breath. His grip crushes my thighs.

No one speaks. The moment hangs between us with an electric charge that sinks serrated fangs straight into my clit.

“Again.” It comes out raspy and broken, and shamelessly needy. “Do it again.”

Definitely a line being crossed, but I am so lost in the sight, in the act, that I can’t even formulate any other words as I wait for him to continue.

Neither says a word, but I see the glance they exchange. I feel the heavy thump of Van’s heart against my shoulder blade. See the flare of Lachlan’s nostrils as he comes to his decision.

He shifts.

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