Page 122 of Where Broken Wings Fly

“There are no rules,” he answers. “As long as you’re open to exploring with us both. The important question is do you trust us?”

“Of course, I do. I’m just inexperienced.”

“Me too,” I say shyly. “This is all new to me.”

Zach looks surprised for a second, his eyes scouring over me. He’s always been a flirt and great at talking to people. I’m his polar opposite, despite our identical looks.

He was always a ladies’ man, even when we were teenagers knocking back cheap tequila shots in Highbridge’s local bar. We clearly inherited different things.

“Let’s just have some fun,” Zach suggests.

Biting her lip, Willow nods and leans in to kiss him again. Releasing her swollen lips, he gently turns her over so her eyes land on me. Bright and innocent, the hazel depths are filled with nervous anticipation. She’s so fucking beautiful.

Zach kisses her neck from behind, sucking the delicate flesh of Willow’s throat between his teeth to leave a mark. When his gaze flicks up to me, asking a silent question, I nod.

“Kiss my brother, Willow.”

Obediently following Zach’s command, she brushes her mouth against mine in a brief tease. Cupping her jawline, I kiss her back, loving the way her pillowy lips part to grant access to the swipe of my tongue tangling with hers.

Zach’s hand manages to sneak between us, easing underneath her loose t-shirt. I can see him kneading her breast through her bra. Feeling impatient, I pull the t-shirt over her head so I can get a better view.

Her bra is light pink and lacy, imprisoning the swell of her sizeable breasts and stiff, prominent nipples inside. I hesitate, almost losing my nerve. This is further than I’ve ever gotten before, but I want more.

“Take her bra off,” Zach instructs. “I want to see our girl’s gorgeous tits.”

Grateful for the intervention, I reach around Willow to unclasp her bra and pull the cups aside, freeing her breasts. The soft mounds fit perfectly into my hands, and I bring my mouth down to take her rosy bud between my teeth.

“Mi,” she moans.

Fuck, the way she whispers my name like it’s a prayer for her salvation is addictive. She arches her back against Zach as he traces a teasing finger along the waist of her jeans.

Rolling her other nipple between my fingers, I pepper kisses across Willow’s chest, lavishing every inch of her and leaving pink splotches everywhere I touch with my tongue.

“Want more?” Zach breathes.

Willow’s lips part on a gasp. “Yes… m-more.”

“Say please, babe.”

When she doesn’t immediately answer him, he dips a hand inside her jeans. Her eyes scrunch up, and I can imagine the warmth of her wet cunt welcoming his fingers home.

“Willow,” Zach prompts.

“Please. God, Zach. Please, I want more.”

“There’s my perfect girl. Now you’re learning.”

Pulling his hand back out and unbuttoning her jeans instead, he pushes them over her hips. Willow lets him strip her, exposing the flowery lace of her matching panties. I shuffle backwards, watching the show.

“I didn’t see these when we went shopping,” Zach complains.

She bats her lashes. “You should pay more attention.”

“Clearly. It would be a shame to ruin them, but I’m dying to rip this scrap of lace off your pussy and bury my face between your thighs.”

“You could always buy me more,” she suggests.

“What an excellent idea. Then I can ruin those as well.”

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