Page 53 of Bound By Brielle (Crave & Cure Productions)

My chest burns with pride and happiness as I look at my wild, untamed pets.

I want to fill his ass. My balls are hot and tight at just the thought. But they've both been such good pups tonight. It’s not fair to give just one of them their reward.

I pump my hips, biting my lip as Lance’s ass swallows my cock with his tightness. I fuck him fast, in motion with the way he fucks her mouth, and then, I give him the gift he deserves, the one he’s been waiting for all night.

I stroke my fingers through the damp ends of his hair, and down the length of his strong spine. “Feed her now, my pup, fill her up”

He growls and grunts, and I don’t move, letting him inadvertently fuck himself on my cock as he surges forward and back, fucking Brielle’s mouth in rough, nearly abusive strokes. But she takes it, moaning and writhing beneath him. When his body stills, I bite into my knuckle and fist my balls, doing everything I can not to feed his ass a warm load. He orgasms, and Brielle moans, her noises gargled by the copious amount of cum flooding her throat.

I would know.

When his back stops twitching and his body softens, I know he’s twitched through the entirety of his orgasm. “On your knees,” I command, and Lance is the first to do it, despite the fact his eyes are sluggish from release. Brielle clambers to her knees, and then I stand over both of them, stroking my aching cock, and say, “Open wide, and take what you’ve earned from your Sir.”

Two pink tongues come out, two mouths open wide, two perfect heads tip back. And I stroke. My fist curls my cock as I pump and pump until I’m roaring unintelligible praise at them, my cum painting their mouths and tongues in thick white waves, coating them surge after surge until I’m shaking my head out over them, making sure every drop is well spent.

Brielle starts to swallow when she knows I’m done, but Lance stops her.

“Good boy,” I say, stroking my fingers through his hair. I watch as he licks her cheek, dragging the tip of his tongue over her lips, kisses her throat and ear. He devours her until every drop of my cum is in his belly and then she, following suit like an obedient little pup, does the same to him.

Brielle moans as she licks my cum from his tanned flesh, and when they’ve licked each other clean, they face their Sir and blink up at me.

“Good boy,” I say to Lance, turning to face Brielle. “Good girl.” Then I stroke both of their heads and bring my soft cock to their mouths, where they lick me clean as I pet them, saying, “Good pups.”

Thebestpups.

twenty-two

This is her.

brielle

“You looklike you want to tell me something,” Winnie says, pinching her gaze on me as she sips her gingerbread latte. “What is it, Lassie?” she jokes, but my skin flushes at her comment.

I shake my head, grateful for the maple glazed bar I’m currently deepthroating, because it buys me a few seconds before she expects an answer. From my purse on the floor, my phone rings, and I gladly swoop it up for another distraction.

Quincey Parker dances on the screen, and I get an idea. After swallowing my bite, I hold the phone out to her. “He’s just been calling nonstop, and it’s stressing me out,” I admit, though that’s not what’s really on my mind but it’s not a lie either.

Her eyebrows lift. “Oh…” She swallows uncomfortably. “He’s… Have you answered?”

“He’s still butthurt.”

That’s a great way to describe it. Butthurt. The few times in my life that I didn’t do exactly what my father wanted me to do, he did exactly this. Ghosted me for a few weeks then tried to shove his way back in without explaining himself. Now that I have more in my life, I don’t have to exist under his microscope, and maybe a break from each other is what I need.

“I’m not answering. I’m tired of him ghosting me then communication bombing.” I shake my head, staring down at the remnants of my sugary treat. As soon as Quincey is involved, my appetite seems to shrivel and I know that is not how your dad should make you feel. “You don’t ghost people you love. Especially not your daughter, the literal only family member he has. It’s just… bullshit and I’m over it. So he can keep calling. He can call all he fucking wants. I’m over it.”

Winnie mimes dropping a microphone, but the smile she wears doesn’t reach her eyes.

I laugh at the mic drop, because she always brings the perfect amount of comic relief to even those most tense situations. My stomach churns, bitterness burning, because guilt always makes my stomach hurt.

Winnie is so supportive and yet.. I’m keeping things from her. And I fucking hate it.

“Anyway,” I sigh, torn between wanting to open up but also not wanting to betray trust, I stick to Quincey Parker, the safest of the hard topics. “I’m just tired of being his emotional punching bag.”

Winnie pops the lid off her drink and traces the cup’s edge with her fingernail, which is painted pink. I grab her hand and bring it to my face, dramatically analyzing it. “Your nails are painted!”

She yanks her hand away, her cheeks going flush, and it occurs to me right then that I may not be the only one with secrets. “Stahhpp,” she harrumphs. “It’s just polish, it’s not a big deal.”

“No?” I cock a brow. “I haven’t ever seen your nails painted. You paint mine! You never paint yours!”

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