Page 277 of Double Daddies
He didn’t need to ask what it was, but he let her finish.
“When this comes to an end, just tell me. I won’t make a scene, I won’t cling to your legs and beg you not to leave. If you find someone you want more and you don’t want to be with me… don’t cheat. That’s all I ask.”
Clay shared a long look with Tristan, then let him answer.
“I think I speak for both of us, princess, when I say we’re not that fucking stupid.” Warily, Tristan lifted his hand to her cheek, and surprise lit his eyes when she tilted her face into his palm. “My track record isn’t perfect, but cheating has never been in the cards for me. And Clay… Clay’s asalt of the earthkinda guy. The type who was brought up by his mama to be a fine, upstanding man incapable of taking his dick out of his pants for more than one woman at a time.”
“She was handy with a rolling pin,” Clay admitted, “and she wasn’t too shabby with a cast iron skillet if she needed to reinforce the lesson.”
“Why the hell would either of us look elsewhere when we’ve both found what we’re looking for? I’m willing to promise fidelity, Avery; if there’s a chance we can make this work between the three of us, I’m not fucking it up by straying with a strange piece of ass.”
“Eloquent, Tris, real eloquent.” Gathering her hair into a tail, Clay wrapped it slowly around his hand, tugging her head back until she peered up at him upside-down. “Do you need me to pinky-swear that the only woman I have eyes for is you, sweetling?”
Her mouth opened, her lips slightly swollen and a beautiful shade of pink. “N-No.”
“No, what?”
“No, Daddy,” she said with a sigh as Tristan spluttered a protest.
“Good girl. Going to take my time sinking into this needy pussy, then Tristan’s gonna show you what your trust means to him, unless you want to finish him off with your pretty mouth.” Kissing and nipping down the side of her neck, he felt a moan shimmer up her throat. “Really hope you weren’t planning on working today, sweetling—you ain’t leaving this bed.”
“What? No, I’ve got?—”
Her words trailed off as he gripped his cock behind the crown and teased her with the broad tip, sliding it up and down her wet slit before finding her entrance. He tightened his grip on her hair, keeping her still. “You know about safewords, Avery?”
She whimpered. “Yes, Daddy. Red, yellow, green.”
“Use them if you need them, little girl.” Clay couldn’t stop his voice dropping an octave, turning into his darker, dominant tone. There was a possibility she would have to safeword—he was not unsubstantial in this regard, and she was going to be a snug fit.
Slick heat eased him in, his hips pushing firmly and relentlessly until, with a cry that tightened his balls, she submitted. Fuck, she was so soft. Soft, gloriously wet, deliciously warm. Her whimpers escalated, urging him to sink deeper, claiming her inch by fucking divine inch. Muscles fluttered around his bare shaft, squeezing him like clever fingers.
Nuzzling her ear, he murmured, “Take all of me, little girl. This beautiful pussy is begging to be filled, isn’t she? That limp-dicked weasel didn’t deserve her, didn’t know how to give her what she needs, what she craves.” He nibbled down her neck, pressing his teeth against her shoulder as Tristan shifted, sitting up to worship her breasts with his hands and mouth. “Daddy knows how to make you sit up and beg, sweetling. Daddy knows exactly what you yearn for. All you have to do is ask Daddy nicely.”
Avery quivered, her breath rushing through parted lips. She lifted her hands to dig her fingers into Tristan’s hair, using him as an anchor. “D-Daddy Clay, please… I need you.”
Wrapping his free hand around her thigh, he tugged until she widened her kneeling stance, her weight easing her down another inch. Growling under his breath, he thrust lazily, stretching her with his considerable girth. “Again, Avery. Learn to tell your Daddies what you want.”
“Please, please, please.” Childlike voice straining with very adult need, she pleaded silently with her eyes, as though she didn’t know how to ask with words. Maybe she didn’t; maybe the extent of her fulfillment in bed had been left down to herself and whatever lucky toy she favored.
They would teach her, Clay thought, gripping her thigh tightly. For now, her quiet pleas would suffice. He thrust again, slowly, shallowly, carefully opening her until he was fully seated.
Christ, he loved the sounds she made when she lost herself.
Suckling noises came from her breast; she was being adored from all angles, and one thing he could say for Tristan was, he wasn’t short on enthusiasm.
“Please, Daddy Clay, I need you.”
Easing back, he slammed in again, shunting her forward with a groan. She rippled around him, welcoming him, and the pace was set. He fucked her with long, hard strokes, gathering speed and momentum like a piston, wrenching shocked cries from her.
He was in heaven.
Adam, the pencil-dicked asshole, didn’t know what he’d been given, or what he’d thrown away.
She was responsive, engaging, trying so hard to be exactly what she thought her Daddies wanted her to be. She expressed herself beautifully through sound and her body language—she made herself into an open book, easy for them to read.
Breath heaving, body trembling against his, she was a dream come true.
“Come, sweetling.” Voice heavy and dark, Clay crooned the words. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he watched Tristan bestow his attention to her breasts, paying homage to each one as though they were his obsession. “You’ve been a good girl. Let go now.”
