Page 12 of Reckless Hearts

I nod. Trick climbs over me, his palms pressing down on either side, pinning me in place. I can barely breathe, my heart racing as he cages me in and finally claims my mouth.

He tastes like me, mixed with mint and smoke and spit. His kiss is soft and teasing, warm like whisky, smooth as honey, and he takes his time, savouring me. I sink into it, completely enveloped by the languid, indulgent quality of his touch—he's exactly what I'm craving.

I tremble as he reaches between my legs, coating his fingers with my arousal before sliding them into my mouth. Our tongues swirl around his fingers, and I savour the addictive blend—a heady cocktail of smoke and musk that leaves me craving more.

Wes tilts my chin towards him and captures my mouth with a fierce, demanding kiss, his intensity a stark contrast to Trick’s gentle softness. He pulls back, playfully tugging at my bottom lip with his teeth, leaving me aching for more.

“Ride him, baby,” he says. “I want to see you come all over his dick.”

My body responds instinctively to his command. I shift into position, breathless with anticipation.

Wes’s voice is low and teasing. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” I manage to reply, excitement coursing through me.

I’m on my knees, quite literally, for these men.

7

Wes kneels in front of me, cradling my face as he kisses me, his lips soft and sure. Behind me, Trick moves in sync, holding me tight against him. His mouth skims my neck, hands squeezing my breasts, fingers working their magic between my legs.

I arch my back, pressing my ass against his hardness, rolling my hips with desperate need.

Wes pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire. “You look so pretty when you grind against his hand,” he murmurs. His mouth descends to my nipple, teeth grazing as his fingers spread possessively across my throat.

In a fluid motion, Wes withdraws, giving Trick space to move. He hooks his hands beneath my legs, an arm sliding across my chest as he flips me effortlessly onto my back. He climbs over me, his weight pressing me into the mattress like a heavy, grounding force.

My breath catches as he plunges two fingers inside me, then withdraws to spread my arousal over my clit. I arch off the bed,hips rising, desperate to meet his mouth. He groans against my lips, the anticipation twisting my stomach in knots, teasing me with the promise of a kiss, that sweet torture of something just out of reach. But he doesn’t kiss me. Instead, he pulls the mask back down, and it takes every ounce of restraint not to tear it off his damn face. How fucking dare he?

I don’t even care that we can’t speak; his actions ignite something raw and primal in me. I’m pissed off, turned on, and craving release.

I hook my legs around his waist, my body begging for his worst, craving as much pain as I can take, both physically and mentally. Perhaps it’s because he’s a total stranger, and I know I’ll never see him—or either of them—again, that I feel so liberated. So fearless.

“Please,” I whimper as Trick curls his finger inside my cunt, hitting that sweet spot.

“Please what?” Wes chuckles, his low, sadistic tone only intensifying the ache between my legs. Standing at the foot of the bed, he holds the phone, capturing every desperate plea.

“Hurt me,” I plead, clawing at Trick’s shoulders, my voice trembling with need. “Fuck me. I want both of you inside me.”

Wes smirks, leaning in so his voice sends shivers down my spine. “Beg for it, pretty girl. Tell him exactly what you want.”

I grind my hips against Trick’s rock-hard cock, digging my heels into his back. “I want it rough. Hard. Make me bleed, make me scream.”

Wes's aura darkens, a palpable shift in the air as his voice lowers to a dangerous whisper. “How much does my dirty little slut want another man's cock inside her sweet, tight cunt?"

“I want it more than anything,” I gasp, my voice cracking with desperation.

"Beg harder, slut. Prove how much you want it.”

“I need you to fill me up, to fuck me so hard I can’t think. Please, I’m begging you. I’ll do anything. Just give me what I need. I’ll be your good little slut—just make me feel it.”

Both men exchange a silent look before Trick slides an arm behind my back. In one swift move, he flips us over, leaving me sprawled on top of him, our bodies flush against each other. The brush of my nipples against his chest sends a jolt of electricity straight to my pussy. I press my palms against his chest, pushing myself upright to straddle him, trapping him beneath me with my knees.

Kissing the dip between his pecs, I drag my fingernails over the thick, hard muscle of his chest. His breath hitches as I explore his nipples, circling the metal bars with my tongue and revelling in the way they respond just like mine when I’m turned on—bunched up, tight, and hard. I flick my tongue over the bud, dragging the metal between my teeth, biting the surrounding skin, pulling and sucking until it forms a glistening peak. His breaths become shallow, and he whines, actually whines, and I swear I’m going to explode from that sound alone.

Without wasting another second, I yank down his briefs, freeing his thick, hard cock. It bobs in front of me, and I can’t help but marvel at his size, his shape, and the blue-green veins that run along his thick shaft.

I lick my lips, tempted to taste him again, but the need to be filled overwhelms every other thought. I spit on his cock, lift my hips, and align my entrance with the tip. Slowly, I lower myself onto him, savouring the delicious stretch.

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