Page 71 of Cross the Line
Like before, he perches on the table, except this time he sits all the way back with me straddling his thighs.
I’m still trembling when his hands cup either side of my face. Molten obsidian eyes trace the contours of my profile with every brush of my fingertips through the close-shaven hair at the back of his head. His breaths are louder than before, freer. Praise spills easier, too—first a rasp, then a cadence.
“Look at you… Look at you, Angel,” Eli whispers over my lips.
Jayden’s low, gravelly laugh hums behind me. “Our good girl.”
“This is what you want, right? To be ours. Mine and Jayden’s?” Eli asks.
“Yes.”
Eli’s quiet for a moment, holding my jaw, tracing my face with his stare. The contrast of the boyish flush glowing on his cheeks and the serious set of his features knots in my stomach.
“I love you, Finley,” he says, running his hands to my nape where he combs them through my hair.
“I know, Elijah. I love you, too. So much. So. Damn. Much.”
“Give me your hands,” he murmurs, still combing through my hair. Still tracing his deep, pained gaze over my face.
“Okay.”
Jayden’s touch roams the curve of my shoulders to my arms, while Eli’s eyes purposefully trail down my heated face, my neck where he’s left his mark pulsing with its own heartbeat, my hammering chest… all the way down to my hands.
“If you want me inside you,” he tells me with a throaty rasp, “you have to take me out.”
“Take what you want, Lucky,” Jayden says, his hands moving to my elbows.
With a coaxing nudge, he guides my hands to Elijah’s hard stomach, then anchors his at my hips.
Oh, Jesus.
I take a breath and tug his white shirt up his abdomen. Fading scars stripe his ribs—faint silver lines glinting in the muted light. My fingertip traces one, then another, following each ridge until his breath hitches.
The sight guts me. All that pain, carved into beauty he can’t see. He’s letting me touch it now, letting me in.
I lean in and kiss him—soft at first, then deeper—while my nails trail down his stomach. His breath shudders, body trembling as I reach his belt. The buckle clinks open.
When my hand pushes beneath his slacks, I trace my fingers over his covered bulge, taking my time as he takes control of our kiss, moving his hands over the top of Jayden’s on my hips. Their fingers lace together when I tug the elastic of Eli’s underwear down, freeing his erection for me.
Every cell in my body begs me to keep going, to keep loving on him. I feel them—the way their thumbs roll together at my sides in the same rhythm as Eli’s tongue swirls with mine. The clasp of their hands tightening on my flesh as my heavy breasts press into Eli’s chest. The hum of Jayden’s approval when my hand closes around Eli’s thick length and he tugs Jayden flush to my back.
I feel everything between them, like technicolor turned palpable. A living, breathing sensation, blooming inside me—stemming in the pit of my stomach, growing into my chest, flowering deep in my soul.
Between them, I’ve found my existence. A place carved just for me.Where every fear melts into insignificance, nothingness, so all that lives inside me is my love, my want, my need… my all-consuming obsession for them.
“Don’t stop, Angel,” Eli hisses into my mouth when I stroke him from root to tip, pulling back to lick my hand before I fist him again.
“Feel good, Sweetheart?” Jayden rasps, and when Elijah nods, he says, “Tell our girl how you like it.”
As I pump his length again, a hiss escapes him. “Fuck, Fin… feels so good when you squeeze like that.”
Elijah takes my other hand, braced on his hip, and guides it behind me to Jayden’s groin. The heat of his need scorches my palm through the soft fabric of his pants as Elijah sits taller, making it easier for me to carefully lower the zipper of Jayden’s partly opened fly.
Hot velvet presses into my hand before Jayden’s grip surrounds mine, and while I stroke Elijah, Jayden uses my hand to stroke himself.
My head falls back into Jayden’s strong chest as Eli’s mouth drags a scalding path from my jaw to the hollow of my throat. The physical push and pull of my body between them is as thrilling as the carnal force of my emotions.
I want them so badly. It’s a visceral need to take and to please.
