I try to shut my legs, which is an illogical move. Do I want them not to feel how wet I am, or do I want to trap them between my thighs forever? I don’t know anymore. My defeated whimper soon turns into something that is half gasp, half purr.
Porter’s finger slides over the bead of my clit while Sullivan presses the pad of his finger to my entrance, just between my lips. Dear God. No one has ever touched me there before. It’s too intense, so I simultaneously try to move away and crush myself against their touch. What am I doing? But that question is answered when Gray’s palm lands on my bottom with such striking force that my nerves sizzle.
Fresh wetness seeps from me and coats Sullivan’s finger. Porter catches the pulsing in my clit.
“Fuck,” Sullivan says as he removes his finger, only for Gray to take his place.
“Fuck is right,” Gray replies.
Before my next breath, Porter dips between my soaked folds. A shuddering cold runs down to my bones when they all three withdraw. They’re no longer touching me, which is absolutely right. They should be unsettled by my body’s reaction to them. It’s 100% unsolicited.
I straighten at once, and with my hands shaking, I pull down my dress.
I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I could have booked myself into a hotel for peace and quiet since I so desperately wanted it, but no, I chose this. A complete one-on-three war with my neighbors where I devised a diabolical plan to sabotage their party. Why didn’t I stop myself?
From the moment my gaze landed on each of them, I lost my mind. I should leave. Why am I not lecturing them about etiquette and leaving? It’s then I look up and see them licking my essence off their fingers. I’m stunned. Why do I feel so funny?
“Avery,” I scold myself frantically in my mind. “Avery don’t do it. It’s insane.”
They come toward me. I should run. Get into my car, drive into the city, and book a hotel room. Sleep. Turn around. It’s not too late. You’re going to do something colossally stupid if you don’t leave right now.
The heady scent of their cologne engulfs me. I feel drunk, intoxicated. Oh no, it’s too late.
It’s Porter who steps into my space first. It’s Porter whose neck I throw my arms around, crushing my lips to his. He immediately takes control of my clumsy kiss and turns it into an explosion of fireworks. My entire body melts against his as he coaxes my lips apart and slips his tongue into my mouth.
Dear god. The sensation, the scorching heat wherever he touches me, is so exquisite I want more. I need more. I need everything. I kiss him so desperately that I don’t recognize this side of me.
Porter releases me, his eyes darken, locking with mine.
“Avery, do you know what you’re doing?” He asks, his voice deep, rough, and thick.
“Yes.”
No.
?Chapter Ten
Avery
If I haven't said it enough times, I don’t have a freaking clue what I'm doing.
I grab Sullivan by his collar and capture his lips. He lets me explore his mouth the same way Porter explored mine, except he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me flush against the rock-hardness of his entire body, including his cock, which presses against me. I can barely breathe. Still reeling from both Porter and Sullivan’s kisses, I throw myself at Gray and attack his mouth without shame.
How can they taste so good and be so addictive that I repeat the cycle, starting with Porter? This time, I can't bear the thought of not touching Sullivan and Gray as well. But then they set me aside, and my frustration grows.
“Avery, do you know what you’re doing?” Gray asks, seriousness lining his features.
“Yes,” I growl in annoyance.
“Do you only want us to kiss you?”
Again with the questions.
“No. I want you to kiss me, take off my dress, and touch me everywhere—with your hands, your mouths, your...”
“Our what, Avery?” Sullivan presses.
They’re going to make me say it. Out loud. I’ve never said the ‘p’ word to anyone in my life. Suddenly, I’m so embarrassed that the fire in my cheeks threatens to burn my entire body down.