Page 121 of Seven Lost Summers
I finally ease my fingers out of her, watching the way her pussy flutters.
“Fucking hell…” I rasp, sitting back on my heels. The sheets under her are soaked, a dark stain spreading beneath her ass and thighs. I press my palm down into the mess and it squishes warm between my fingers. “Look what you fucking did.”
Quinn’s cheeks flush. She lets out a soft, mortified sound and tries to close her legs, but Nate’s still holding them open.
“Oh no,” he says. “You don’t get to hide after giving us that. That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
Her breath stutters, torn between embarrassment and the aftershocks still rolling through her body.
I run my slick fingers over the inside of her thigh, spreading the wetness further, marking her with it.
“Don’t be shy,” I murmur, grinning up at her as I bring my fingers to my mouth and suck them clean. “That was fucking perfect.”
Nate’s thumb drags over her cheek. He eases back onto his heels, breath still ragged, chest rising and falling hard, but his eyes never leave her. There’s nothing gentle in that stare. It’s hot and hungry.
I grab the hem of my shirt and rip it over my head, tossing it aside without a second thought.
Her gaze snaps to me instantly, dragging over my chest, lingering on my stomach before dropping lower.
Nate’s head turns when I hook my fingers into my jeans and shove them down in one rough pull, boxers going with them. My cock springs free, hard and leaking from every second of restraint I’ve been holding back.
Quinn’s breath stutters. Nate’s jaw goes tight. His eyes drop and I sense the way they drag over every hard inch of me.
I wrap my fist around my cock, give it one long, deliberate stroke—precum smearing thick across the swollen head. A low groan slips out of me, as if touching myself in front of them is enough to undo me.
Quinn’s lips part, a soft, shaky sound escaping her, and fuck, the way she looks right now—flushed, trembling, her pussy still glistening between her thighs—makes my grip tighten on my cock.
Her eyes flick between us. Me, standing there stroking my cock, veins raised under my fist, and Nate, muscles taut, lips parted as he kneels beside her, watching me.
She swallows hard, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, voice rough when it finally spills out. “Have you two…” Her words catch for a beat, her gaze sharpening as it slides from me to Nate, “…ever done anything together?”
Nate’s shoulders go tight, that tiny shift in his body changing the whole room.
“No,” he says, voice low, but steady enough to cut right through the air. “Not like that.”
For a second, nothing moves. No one breathes.
Quinn sits up. Both of us follow the motion without meaning to, our eyes dragging over the way her thighs slide together, hiding that soaked, perfect pussy we just had open and dripping for us. The loss hits like a slap.
Cockblocked.
She brushes her hair back with shaking fingers, but her chin lifts with that spark she always carries. The kind that makes you forget every fucking thing except her.
“Well,” she says, her voice still shaky from everything we’ve done to her. “If you two want to fuck me together…”
Her gaze flicks between Nate and me. Something wicked glints there, curling the edges of her lips into a smirk. “First, you have to do something for me.”
My throat goes dry. “What’s that?”
Her smirk deepens, sinful as hell. “Show me something worth watching.”
It hits like a crack of lightning down my spine.
I glance at Nate, and he’s already locked on me. His eyes aren’t soft. They’re not curious. They’re fucking heated, all want and no shame.
The air becomes thick enough to choke on.
Quinn leans back on her elbows, legs still pressed tight together, eyes half-lidded as she stares at us through those long lashes. Her voice is soft but cutting when she says, “Kiss.”
