Page 41 of Bound By Brielle (Crave & Cure Productions)

“Watch,” Aug growls at my ear, causing my head to tip forward and my eyes to flutter open. Aug presses his hips deep into my ass, his wide crown slipping through my cunt. I grind his length as I finally come, gloriously, in uterus shaking, cunt pulsing waves while watching Lance lick my clit through my orgasm, all while catching Aug’s cum with his lips and tongue.

Aug and I come together, with Lance at the helm, lapping up every drop between the two of us. And when Aug’s final growl has ricocheted between us and my last moan has left me, Lance clambers to his knees and brings his mouth to mine. The kiss we share is hot and salty, but urgent too, and not just like he couldn't wait to share Aug’s cum with me but that he couldn’t waitto kiss me just as much.

Feeding his fingers through my hair, his mouth makes love to mine as Aug’s lips dust soft kisses down the slope of my neck, turning my sated delight into achy turmoil once more.

We swallow, and I can’t believe I have their cum in my belly. Both of them. I shake my head as my cheeks flush, and our tender embrace splits. Aug redresses my lower half as Lance peppers me with the inquisition.

“You’re shaking your head—are you okay? Did you want to use your safe word? Was anything too much?”

I swallow again, loving that I can still taste them both. I wonder how long I will taste them? When I get in bed tonight, will I skip brushing my teeth only tosavorthem through the night? I shake the thoughts from my head and focus on Lance’s questions. “It was…” I sigh, a bit terrified as the orgasmic haze settles, giving way to reality. “It was so good, I can’t… words are hard right now,” I breathe, feeling silly I can’t articulate myself but also… I feel good.

I feel so great that I can’t overthink and overtalk it. This is new for me.

Aug and Lance get me to my feet, and with an arm around my shoulder and one around my waist, we walk to the bathroom. It’s huge and all white, and when the lights come on, I blink a few times to adjust.

Aug unwraps a new toothbrush, and passes it to me after it’s wet and coated in paste. Lance stares at the green brush in his hand, and when he lifts his gaze, I’m surprised it comes to me, not Aug. “This was mine when I lived here, and I haven’t seen it since I moved out. Looking at it reminded me of a lot of things, and I was just having a moment,” he whispers, a whisper not meant for privacy at all, since Aug is on the other side of me. He’s rattled by the memories that surge through him at the old relic, and that gives me pride, knowing he’s allowing me to see his vulnerabilities.

I smile from my heart.

Aug chimes in, and I glance into the mirror to find his dark hair sexy messy as he feeds a hand through, watching me. “We don’t want to isolate or alienate you with our history, so anytime you feel there’s something you want to know, ask. Ask and we promise to include you.”

“If this is going to work, it’s with total transparency,” he adds before plunging his brush beneath the running water. Then the three of us brush our teeth, and as we walk back out into the living room, I wonder if things will be weird now.

But immediately, we’re bickering about what program to put on Netflix while Aug cooks up a late dinner. And then we’re arguing over what’s better to digest this late—Caesar salad with grilled chicken, or a simple soup.

We end up eating a little of each, with small salads and homemade Caesar dressing and small bowls of Aug’s own butternut squash soup.

Afterward, all three of us, splayed out on the floor in front of the TV, doze off. Aug’s leg swathes my hip, and over my head his arm stretches to Lance, fingers in his hair. Lance’s leg is draped over both mine and Aug’s, and his big hand rests on my belly, the other on top of his dick. My hands are everywhere, tracing their curves and edges, committing the way they feel to memory.

Because this has been a perfect night. But I’m a smart girl.

Perfect doesn’t last forever.

seventeen

Territorial asshole, that’s what he is.

augustus

She glancesat her noisy phone as unease creeps over my skin. I’m uncomfortable with how much it’s been ringing recently. I wasn’t insanely jealous yesterday when her phone rang a handful of times throughout the day. I wasn’t… until Lance and I had time in the office alone, and we jumped (he pushed us) to the conclusion that if someone is calling her while she’s with us and she’s turning the phone over so we can’t see the screenandignoring the call—it’s a man.

From her other side, Lance clears his throat, shooting me an irritated gaze.Of course I hear the ringing, I don’t say, but give him an annoyed glance hoping he figures it out. It’s not like I’m in fucking love with some guy calling our girl off the hook, but you don’t see me giving him fucking eye daggers over it.

I smooth my hands through the sides of my hair, inhaling what I hope is calm as I blink down at the script. It’s nothing more than a jumble of dark letters, all lined up to mean nothing. My brain is so crazy right now I can’t even read.

I can’t believe it’shermaking me crazy. Making him crazy, for that matter.

He used to be the only one to put chaos in my veins this way.

And as Lance and I glare at one another over her lap, her green eyes focused on the scene ahead, I realize that nothing about her is temporary. I can see in the unhinged rage flickering in Lance’s blue eyes that he feels the same; possessive and territorial ofourgirl.

“Not going to answer it?” I question, doing my best to sound casual which I can do far better than Lance, who, when angry, only ever sounds fucking angry.

Her green eyes come to me, salty and narrow. “Does it seem like I am?”

Lance huffs, forcing his gaze to the set. I growl beneath my breath, also forcing my eyes ahead. And she returns her focus to the set, too.

I’ve learned a lot about Brielle in the recent weeks, but what I started learning in her second month is just how similar she is to both Lance and myself.

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