Page 276 of Better When Shared
Ryker grinned at me from the foot of the brand new bed, already reaching for the buttons on his shirt with that cocky, deliberate slowness that made my thighs clench.
“We’re getting married!” Kiaan said, clapping his hands. “I can’t wait to fuck my husband and wife.”
Husband and wife. The words sent a delightful shiver through me. “Soon you’ll be able to.”
“So, do you want a show, Duchess?” Ryker’s eyes flicked over to Kiaan, who was leaning against the windowsill looking like sin incarnate. His confidence dialed up as he peeled off his own T-shirt and let it drop to the floor.
The air in our brand-new bedroom vibrated, thick with anticipation and the clean scent of fresh paint and leatherand something deeper—need, history, the wild possibility of everything that came next.
The bed dominated the space. Ryker’s craftsmanship was beautiful. This thing was so huge it was practically obscene, more playground than sleeping surface, and a sturdy canopy frame custom-built for anything my filthy mind might dream up.
I sat cross-legged at the head, still in my workout leggings and a T-shirt, watching as my boys slowly undressed each other with their eyes. Ryker yanked his shirt off, baring that ridiculously muscular chest and then he kicked off his jeans, not bothering with subtlety. His cock was already swelling, tenting his boxers, and when he hooked his thumbs in the waistband and slid them down, my mouth watered.
“Give me a show, boys.” I wanted these two naked in every sense—stripped down, exposed, nothing between us but sweat and heat and filthy promises.
Kiaan laughed, but it was shaky as he shoved his joggers down and let his cock spring free. I’d never get tired of the sight—thick, beautifully shaped, leaking at the tip, his balls heavy and tight beneath. He stroked himself once, slow and showy, like he was auditioning for porn.
“She loves when we touch each other,” he said, sounding half-drunk on lust. “Don’t you, Duchess?”
“Prove it,” I said. “Get on the bed. Touch each other while you look at me.” They climbed up, kneeling at the foot of the bed infront of me, facing each other—Ryker looming above Kiaan, his hand wrapping around his own cock and giving it a few slow pulls before switching to Kiaan’s.
Their fists overlapped on Kiaan’s shaft for a moment, both of them stroking him in tandem, and the sight made my pussy clench. With their cocks out and glistening, Ryker leaned in, brushing his lips along Kiaan’s jaw, fingers working Kiaan’s length until pre-cum smeared slick across their knuckles.
“You know what I want, Duchess?” he said, voice dark and rough. “I want to fuck you so deep you feel it for days. Until you’re thinking of nothing except how you love to be bred by your good boys.”
He gripped Kiaan’s cock tighter, slicking his thumb over the tip, making him hiss and grab Ryker’s wrist. Kiaan’s pupils were blown wide, jaw tight with need.
“I want to watch,” he rasped.
This was the best kind of depravity—my boys desperate for each other and for me, their cocks leaking, eyes hungry, bodies tangled in a mess of muscle and ambition. I crawled forward, my hand finding Ryker’s nape as I pulled him into a filthy kiss while my other hand slid between Kiaan’s cheeks, teasing the tight ring of his asshole.
“You like being stretched open for us, Kitten?” I purred, sliding my thumb over his rim, already feeling how slick and ready hewas I could tell Ryker had already been playing with him. “Want something to keep you full while you watch me get ruined?”
Kiaan groaned, arching back greedily. “Fuck yes, Duchess—don’t make me wait.”
“I can help with that,” Ryker rumbled, and I could tell it turned him on just as much—his cock twitching in his fist, the flush riding high up his neck. “Let me get him nice and open for you. Want to watch you wreck him with something big—something that’ll leave him shaking.”
The men sprawled side by side, heat coming off them in waves as Ryker parted Kiaan’s legs, spreading his cheeks wide so I had a perfect view of that greedy little hole. Kiaan whimpered as Ryker spit in his palm and circled his entrance, then pressed in two thick fingers—slow at first, then rougher, pistoning until Kiaan started to leak pre-cum onto the sheets.
“Insatiable,” Ryker muttered, pumping his fingers deep, twisting them to open Kiaan up.
“You love being used, don’t you? Don’t want to ever be empty again,” I said.
“Duchess, please. I’ll take anything you give me.” The sight made my pussy clench—the way Ryker’s big hands made Kiaan look delicate, the obscene stretch of his entrance, the whimpers he tried and failed to swallow.
I reached into my bag, and pulled out a thick, realistic silicone dildo, purple and weighty, intimidating in both width and length. I dangled it in front of Kiaan’s face, watching him go glassy-eyed with lust.
“Think you can handle this, Kitten? It’s even bigger than last time.”
“Yes—fuck, yes, put it in me,” he begged, rutting helplessly against the bed as Ryker’s fingers kept him open and wanting.
“Good boy,” I said, shoving Ryker’s fingers aside as I pressed the tip of the dildo to his gaping entrance, holding him steady with a fist in his hair.
“Look at me, Kitten. I want to see your face when you get stuffed.” Kiaan shuddered, eyes rolling as Ryker held him open with both thumbs, obscene and beautiful, and I rotated the slick, heavy toy against his rim until he almost sobbed.
His eyes rolled back. “God, yes, please—fuck, Skylar—” I drove it into him with one slow, relentless push. The stretch made his whole body jerk, mouth falling open in a wild sound that was half-ecstasy, half agony. The base nestled flush between his cheeks, locking the toy inside, and I felt the tremor roll through him all the way into my bones. Ryker let out a ragged groan.
“He’s leaking already—look at that, Duchess, look how hungry he is for it.” He ran a palm down Kiaan’s spine, possessive, almost reverent. “You’re such a perfect little slut, Kitten.”
