Page 9 of Guilty as Sin

This isn't just desire anymore. It's something more profound, more permanent.

I kneel before her, my hands finding her knees. Karl sits beside her, his fingers tangling in her hair as he guides her into another kiss. I watch them momentarily, struck by how right this feels—the three of us together, completing each other in ways I never imagined possible.

My hands slide up her thighs, feeling her tremble beneath my touch. The lace of her underwear is delicate and expensive—a barrier I'm desperate to remove. When I hook my fingers into the waistband, her breath catches. Our eyes lock, and I see in hers a permission that makes my heart race.

"Let me taste you," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the sound of her kiss with Karl.

She nods, lifting her hips slightly as I draw the lace down her legs.

I take my time, savoring the unveiling of each inch of skin. Karl's hands have found her breasts now, his fingers teasing hernipples through the matching bra. She moans into his mouth, the sound igniting something primal in me.

When I finally remove her underwear completely, I press my lips to her inner thigh. Her skin is impossibly soft and warm against my mouth as I trail kisses higher. Karl breaks their kiss, watching me over her shoulder with heavy-lidded eyes.

"Spread your legs for him, baby," Karl murmurs against her ear, and the command in his voice makes her comply instantly.

I settle between her thighs, my hands gently pushing them wider. She's wet, glistening with desire, and the sight of her so open and ready nearly undoes me. I take a steadying breath before leaning forward to taste her.

The first contact of my tongue against her pussy draws a gasp from her lips. Her hand finds my hair, fingers tangling in it as I explore her with deliberate strokes. Above me, Karl has unhooked her bra, his hands now cupping her bare breasts as he kisses her neck.

"Oh God," she whimpers, her hips beginning to move against my mouth.

I respond by circling her most sensitive spot, applying pressure where I can tell she needs it most.

Karl watches me work, his eyes darkening with lust. "Is he making you feel good, Zoe?" he asks, his voice husky. "Tell us what you need."

Her answer is incoherent, lost in a moan as I slip a finger inside her. She's tight around me, her body clutching at the intrusion. I add a second finger, curling them upward as my tongue continues its assault.

Karl captures her mouth again, swallowing her increasingly desperate sounds. His hands knead her breasts, pinching her nipples just hard enough to make her arch into his touch. The coordination between us is seamless and intuitive—two parts of a whole working in tandem to unravel her.

I can feel her tension building, her thighs beginning to tremble on either side of my head. When I glance up, the sight nearly stops my heart: her head thrown back against Karl's shoulder, her chest heaving, her face a portrait of approaching ecstasy.

"Let go," Karl whispers against her temple. "We've got you."

My brother's words seem to trigger something in her. She cries out, her body tensing as pleasure crashes through her. I press deeper, maintaining the rhythm as she rides the wave, my name falling from her lips between gasps. Her release coats my tongue, and I groan against her sensitive flesh, savoring every tremor that passes through her.

Karl holds her through it, his eyes meeting mine with heated intensity. The connection between us—this shared experience of bringing her to the edge and watching her fall—binds us together in a way I've never felt before. It's more than just physical; it's something profound.

When her shudders finally subside, I place a gentle kiss on her inner thigh before rising to my feet. Her eyes are half closed, her lips swollen from Karl's kisses, her chest still heaving with aftershocks. She's never looked more beautiful.

When I finally pull away, her eyes are half closed, lips parted. Karl is supporting most of her weight now, her legs seemingly unable to hold her upright. I wipe my mouth with my hand before leaning in to kiss her. She tastes herself on my lips, moaning softly at the intimacy of it.

“You’re so beautiful," I whisper against her mouth. And she is—flushed and disheveled, her body still trembling with aftershocks.

Karl meets my gaze over her shoulder, his eyes dark with need. We've done this dance before, and we know the steps by heart, but with Zoe, it feels new and electric.

“More,” she whispers, reaching for me.

I move closer, and she pulls me down for a deep kiss. The knowledge that she can taste herself on my tongue makes my already painful erection throb against my trousers. Karl's hand finds the back of my neck, silently acknowledging what we've created together. We've shared women before, but never like this. Never with someone who matters. Never with someone who feels like she could become the center of our world.

Karl is already undressing, his movements efficient yet unhurried. I follow suit, never taking my eyes off Zoe. She watches us both, her gaze traveling between us with undisguised appreciation. There's no shame, no awkwardness—just the building anticipation of what's to come.

"This is really happening," she whispers, more to herself than to us. Her vulnerability strikes something deep in my chest.

"Only if you want it to," I assure her, sitting beside her on the bed. "We can stop anytime."

Karl appears on her other side, now gloriously naked. "We want you, Zoe. Both of us. But only on your terms."

She looks between us, her expression shifting from uncertainty to resolve. Her hand reaches out, fingers tracing my jawline before turning to do the same to Karl.

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