Page 55 of Kitty Season
This is it.
It’s now or never.
Fuck it.
It’s not going to be good. I know it’s not. I’m trembling, the vibrations I’m sure he’ll feel tingling my lips, but like I did when I first laced on skates while everyone else was reaching for footy boots, and give it all I’ve got.
I’m not sure who is more surprised by what happens next. Me. Him. Or her, but there’s a flash of surprise and heat in Troye’s eyes as I use my long limbs, and agility to my advantage. Maneuvering around Quinn, I curl my fingers into the fabric of his shirt, nails lightly raking the exposed flesh of his collarbone and tug him closer. So turned on I can’t think straight I pause, our lips a hair’s breadth from connecting, his smug face is a blur.
“Do it Skip. I dare ya.”
“Fuck you, Becker.” Holding my breath, I fuse my eyes shut, and crash my mouth over his. Holy shit. In an instant, a million questions I’ve asked a million times are answered. Everything about me feels right.
And hard.
Knowing just seconds ago Quinn’s lips were where his are now, that she is right by my side, has my dick aching, my heartpounding, echoing against my ribs, thudding in my ears. Our hands become greedy, mine especially. With one I reach for Quinn, the other clings to and roams Troye’s chest as I run my tongue over his bottom lip.
He opens wide, so our tongues effortlessly meet and glide over each other.
It’s hard, filthy, and messy as shit, but perhaps, perhaps I’m not doing as bad as I think, because when I accidentally scratch him with my teeth he groans. He fucking groans.
I’m basking in that, when his fingers clasp my throat. His hold is soft at first, tightening and squeezing as he practically pulls me into his lap. Quinn’s released her own throaty little whimper, and her breath ghosts over my ear as she sucks my earlobe into her mouth. A jolt of lust shoots down my spine. “Oh, God, Quinn.”
Who the fuck knew an ear would be the thing to have me almost come in my pants.
The room spins. I grip Troye’s jaw, sink my fingers in and hold on. This was supposed to be about her. Kitty Season, I had only just dubbed it. But right now, it feels like it’s all about me.
I fucking love it.
I’m not sure how long we stay like that. Troye practically eating my face. Me lapping it up, Quinn moaning, whispering our names, coasting her lips across my neck and chin and ear. While I genuinely have no idea what I’m doing, I do know what I like. And I know I like this.
I like the attention of Troye who smells like rain on fresh cut grass.
The stubble scratching over my freshly shaved skin, teeth sinking into my bottom lip.
I like that where Quinn is soft and timid, Troye is firm, and demanding.
I love the smoothness of her cheek against my fingers versus the roughness of his. That I can grab her hair, twist it around my wrist and pull, whereas with Troye, I think I could get a handful, but I’d have to work for it. Have to really want it.
And I do.
It’s not right how much I want it.
It’s not normal to crave two people like this.
I know that.
But I can’t help it.
They will teach me a lot, I think. If I let them.
Brady kisses just like I knew he would. Tender, caring, timid at first, but so fucking hot. With every broken whimper, I can feel the long denied, raging fire lurking beneath, cracking through his surface.
And I want it. I want to take him. I want to open him up and I want to expose him.
All the three of us have done for the last twenty minutes is kiss, but it’s quite possible that Quinn Josephine Harris and Brady Rudiger Basse, may be the death of me.
Rudiger’s probably not his middle name, I don’t actually know what is. Heck, it could be Wally. But what I do know is that never have I ever had a more satisfying sexual experience and once again, all we have done is kiss.
