Page 33 of Better Watch Out

“You can’t,” Fletcher says sweetly. “That’s the point.”

“I hate you.” I open my eyes to glare at him and see Boone move closer, his hands skimming up my sides until he can cup my breasts in his palms.

“I don’t hate him.” Teasingly he brushes his thumbs over my nipples, making me shiver. “I think he’s a pretty great boyfriend, actually. Oh, pretty little thing, this makes me want to do so many terrible things to you. Did you know that?” All I can do is shake my head, trying not to die of humiliation.

“But you know, I think he wants to see me play with you,” Boone tells me in a stage-whisper. “Like the grateful partner I am. He went to all this trouble for me, after all. So what do you say, hmm?”

“You really don’t want to hear what I have to say,” I reply, glaring at him balefully. It only seems to turn him on more, though, because in seconds his lips are sliding against mine, his hands back to wandering my body and teasing every sensitive bit of skin he can find.

“I bet you’re already wet for me.” His fingers tease my entrance as he says it, and I shake my head, knowing my denialis a lie. “No? You sure?” Boone slides two into my pussy, and I inhale sharply. “Because it feels like it to me. Do you want to check?”

Before I can answer he’s gripping my jaw and when I gasp, he shoves both fingers into my mouth. “Clean them off and tell me that’s not the taste of a filthy snow bunny who wants me to play with her.” His words are low and rough, and when I open my eyes he’s watching me closely. I can’t look away. I can’t do anything except flick my tongue over his fingers and taste myself on him, which has my face flushing with heat and me squirming in the light restraints as much as I can.

“You want to try again? Want to tell me that you aren’t excited for me to play with you?” He lets go of me, only to crook two fingers into me once more. “Because your body is a bad liar.”

“Still hate you.” That’s as much as I can say with my face burning and my throat tight.

“Still don’t believe you.” He watches me, his free hand toying with the lights as he fingers me. Two fingers quickly becomes three, and when I let out a soft, accidental moan, his grin grows wicked again.

“Oh, baby, you don’t have to hide your moans for me. You know why?” He doesn’t wait for me to shake my head before adding, “Because I can hear how much you’re enjoying this. Listen to your greedy, soaking wet pussy. You hear that?” He starts to finger me harder, thrusting them in and out until I can hear the wet noises that make me want to die on the spot.

“No, don’t look like that. Don’t be embarrassed for being perfect. Fuck, baby, you don’t haveanythingto be embarrassed about.” He sits back, biting his lip, and reaches down with one hand to shove his sweatpants down his hips. It’s easy for him to free his length, and he pulls his fingers free from me to wrap that hand around his cock with a moan.

“Can I help?” Fletcher doesn’t move until Boone nods, and then the blonde gets to his feet, coming over to drag Boone to his. “Sit on the couch, baby boy,” he murmurs to his brother, brushing their lips together.

Boone does what he’s told, and it takes Fletcher only a few seconds to undo some of the lights enough that I can actually move my legs.

Not that I get to take advantage of the freedom. He urges me to turn until I’m on my knees facing Boone, and he pulls my hair back over my shoulder, hands cupping my breasts.

“Sit on the edge of the couch for me, Boone,” Fletcher murmurs, and when Boone complies he pushes me forward, his chest pressed to my back as I’m forced to lean over Boone’s lap.

“Doesn’t she look so pretty like this for you? And I know how much you love Conor’s tits.” The blond pushes me forward until Boone’s cock slides against my chest, warm against my already hot skin. “Just sit there, baby boy,” he says when Boone starts to move. “Just enjoy your pretty present.”

Fletcher’s fingers knead and massage my breasts, pulling a moan from me, and he pushes them together, keeping Boone’s length between them.

“Ohfuck.” Boone throws back his head, but Fletcher is far from done. He rocks with me, using his own body to move me up and down so that Boone’s cock slides easily against me.

“Good girl.” Fletcher’s voice is soft in my ear. “Look at how happy you’re making him. So good to Boone, aren’t you?” His fingers press harder, drawing another small sound from me, and that has Boone’s cock leaking, his precum rubbing onto my skin when Fletcher keeps forcing me to move this way.

Before long Boone is panting, looking at us from under his lashes as his hips arch gently against me with every movement. “You’re both so perfect. Fletcher,God.” He grips his hair,breathing heavily. “I’m gonna come. This is too much. Especially with how she’s looking up at me. Do you see her face, Fletch?”

“Yeah, I see her face,” Fletcher chuckles, and when he rocks into me again I feel his own excitement pressing against my lower back. “So why don’t you come all over it?”

“What?” I yelp, but Fletcher’s already gripping my chin, forcing me to keep looking up at Boone.

“Come all over her pretty face, Boone. Then I’ll make her come for you too, right here, filthy and wet and all tied up in lights for you. Does that sound good?”

Wordlessly Boone jerks his head forward in a nod, and after a few more times of Fletcher guiding me against him so he’s fucking my tits Boone sits up and reaches out, gripping my hair and holding me in place.

“Fletcher, c-can you please, please touch me,” he pants, but his eyes are all for me. The blond certainly doesn’t complain. He reaches around me, one hand still toying with my breast, and wraps his fingers around Boone’s length.

“You’re so close, baby,” he purrs. “And you’re so good for me. Show Conor how much you appreciate her.”

“Open your mouth, Conor,” Boone growls, barely able to keep his eyes open. “Please,fuck. Open your mouth for me.”

I don’t know why I do it. I’ve certainly never had someone ask or want to do anything like this, and I’m sure that I’m going to refuse and pull away. But instead I find myself opening my mouth, tongue resting on my lower lip in a way that has Boone moaning loudly enough to be worrisome if we had neighbors.

“Good girl,good girl,” he praises, and gets to repeat it a few more times before he gasps and bucks his hips into Fletcher’s hand one more time. His release hits my tongue and my cheek, dripping down both as I wait for him to finish. I’m panting, breathing heavily and unconsciously trying to rock my hips forward to find any kind of friction but receiving none.

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