Page 31 of Broken Love

“Sure, man, as long as I get more of this pussy and her mouth. Christ, her mouth is made of dreams.” I know he’s thinking about what she did to wake us up last weekend before everything turned to shit.

“Don’t I get any say?” Windsor’s soft voice has us both glancing down at her.

“Not even a little bit,” Tucker tells her before I can. A pout sets on her lips. Swiping a drop of precum off the head of my cock, I smear the fluid across the plump morsels.

Her pupils blow wide with lust as she lovingly licks it off and moans, closing her eyes and relaxing further into my hold.

“That’s your say.” I grin when she sighs.

Grasping her hips tightly, I press my cock against her folds, dipping in and out and brushing her clit with each pass. As I lean down, I place gentle kisses on her back before moving up her spine to her neck, where I bite her and suck until I’m certain a mark forms before I release her.

Windsor grows impatient and begins to wiggle her hips back against me. “Please, Tanner, give it to me. I hate being teased.” And oh, how we love to do it to her.

“Ah, baby, you beg so sweetly.” Lining my cock up with her entrance, I gradually begin pressing my girth inside her restrictive hole. The slickness of her and my brother’s lust makes the way easier.

I pause when I get to the bulge at the base of my cock, her whispered fantasy from a few days ago playing in my mind. “Please, Tan, all of it.” Her eyes watch me intently as I struggle not to thrust hard and deep like I want to.

“Don’t you worry, babe, I’ll take real good care of you and this center of sweetness.” I love the way a blush blooms across her upper body and into her cheeks. Windsor is far from innocent when it comes to sex and her cravings, but she struggles to take a compliment about how perfect she is for us.

Draping my body over hers, I thrust the rest of the way in. We groan together as I settle inside her snug heat, nice and deep.

Tucker’s breathing intensifies in the otherwise quiet room. I can tell he’s struggling to keep it together when all he wants to do is join us.

He had his turn. It’s mine now.

Next time, we’ll take her together.

Windsor’s walls squeeze me tightly, almost too much so, as I withdraw slowly and slam back in like a battering ram. Picking up my rhythm, Windsor claws at Tucker's legs as she fights to hold herself together while I slake my lust and fuck her like a wild animal, pounding incessantly. My pelvis slaps at her ass with every thrust, turning her red. Fingerprints bruise her hips because I need her motionless. If she moves and works me like she did my brother, I’ll fall apart and come way too fucking soon.

“Oh god, oh Tanner, yes! Fuck, yes!” she screams out as her orgasm washes over her. Goosebumps rise on her flesh, and she shivers as her pussy tightens and strokes me with rippling pleasure that about steals my sanity.

Sweat beads across my forehead as I fight to maintain control, but eventually, my lust wins out, and I finally allow the pleasure to release, straight into her body. And it’s fucking glorious.

Fireworks flash behind my closed eyelids, and I battle my instincts to collapse on top of Windsor as she tries to normalize her breathing.

Dropping to the side, I take her with me and hold her tight to my chest as Tucker joins us on the floor. Rubbing his hands along her twitching body, we all eventually give in to our exhaustion so we can be ready for round two later because I know neither of us is anywhere close to being finished with our woman tonight.

CHAPTER 14

Tucker

The images from the envelope are scattered across the island as coffee brews, and my anger grows into a festering pool of rage waiting to burst free. But until I have someone to target with it, I’ll keep it bottled up as best as I can. Windsor has been through enough without Tanner and me taking out our frustration on her.

“Any idea who sent these?” Tan organizes the photos by timestamp. It looks as though whoever is watching her began months before we met her. They range from shots from afar in the street to mourning at her mother’s gravesite to leaving our building. There are even long-distance shots into her apartment. They may not show any nudity, but there’s enough in the shadow of her curtain to tell she was undressing or fresh from the shower.

It’s not in me, in us, to allow this type of unwanted attention to continue. The most recent image is from the day we brought Windsor home from the hospital. She was pale, wrapped up in my sweater and holding onto our arms, looking fragile as a baby bird. This is not a moment she will appreciate being memorialized.

“Not a clue,” I grit out, grabbing two mugs.

“What’s this?” Windsor’s cheery voice instantly soothes me until I turn to notice her rosy cheeks and happy eyes dull into fear and trepidation. “Where did you get these?” Her voice is muted, almost unheard.

She’s too intelligent for me to lie to. “I found them in your desk yesterday.” She picks up the envelope, turning even paler if possible.

“That can’t be right,” she mutters, looking at the last image.

“They were all in there. You didn’t look at them?” Her head shakes in response. “When did you get it?”

She frowns, drawing in on herself. “A few weeks ago. But it’s been in my desk. How could this one have gotten in there?” She points to the one of us leaving the hospital. “They would have had to have gotten into the office this week.” Realization dawns, and she sways right into Tanner’s arms.

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