Page 81 of A Pack of Mistletoe
I don’t like that.
“Eyes on me,” I growl.
His gaze snaps open—obedient and burning.
I lift myself and Logan’s hands close around my ass, greedy and possessive, helping me rise. They guide me down—slow, unrelenting—until I’m sinkingonto Evander’s cock. He stretches me wide, and I choke on a gasp. So long. So deep.
I ride him hard, rolling my hips, taking more with each thrust. Logan’s hands stay on me—gripping, spreading, helping me fuck myself open for our lover. I hook my hands behind Evander’s neck, scraping my nails down his skin as he thrusts up into me, rough and hungry, like he’s trying to brand his love into every inch of my body.
Through my hair I catch Logan watching—eyes locked on where Evander disappears inside me, his jaw clenched tight, pupils blown wide.
I press a palm to his chin. He jolts, gaze flying to mine. The hunger there wrecks me.
“I need both of you,” I whisper, voice thick with want. “Now.”
Logan’s fingers twitch on my hips. He moves behind me, crowding close. One hand dips under me, sliding through the mess of slick between my thighs until he’s stroking Evander’s cock where it fills me.
“Fuck,” Evander grunts, head falling to my shoulder.
I thread my fingers through his purple-streaked hair and tug—hard. His cock jerks deep inside me in response.
Logan’s slick fingers trail back, rubbing the tight ring of muscle at my ass. He circles, presses—harder, then deeper—until he pops inside.
I gasp, arching into Evander’s chest as Logan begins to fuck me open with his fingers. No hesitation. No mercy. After one—he gives me two. Then three.
Evander starts to shake.
I yank his hair tighter, forcing him to look up at me. His eyes are wide, desperate.
“You will not come,” I command, hips grinding down to slow him. “Not until I say.”
He nods, panting. His body trembles with restraint.
Logan scissors me wider, making room for more, stretching me to the edge of what I can take. As much control as I give, I’m barely holding on.
When he finally pulls his fingers free, Evander breathes a shaky sigh of relief. It’s short-lived.
Logan grabs my hips, positions himself—and waits.
I glance past Evander’s shoulder and meet Harlan’s gaze. He’s watching, stroking himself slowly, his eyes full of smolder and pride. He taught them to wait. And they have.
Harlan meets my eyes and smirks—dark, possessive, knowing. He’s going to wait to come until we do. This is ours.
I turn back to Logan and give him what he’s dying for.
“Fuck me, Logan. Fuck me hard.”
Both men groan—raw, guttural.
Logan presses on my lower back, arching me deeper, and thrusts in—hard.
I choke on a gasp. With both of them buried inside me, I’m stretched to the limit—completely, devastatingly full. Their cocks grind together through the thin wall inside me.
“Fuck, Candy,” Evander gasps. “Fuck.”
Logan doesn’t wait. Doesn’t hold back. He fucks me raw—fast, deep, filthy.
The brat.
