Page 35 of Hunted, Season Three

“And gingerbreadwomenshouldn’t betopless.”My hand gestures towards my cookie-based homage.“Now, I look like a gingerbread stripper.”

“Yeah, well, your ass should’ve showed me more love when you were a gingerbread newlywed appreciatin’ a little love in the sun with two gingerbread manhunks.”

Swiping another round of frosting out of the bowl precedes me shaking my head.“You arenotgood at word play.”

“And you are the sexiest mess I’ve ever seen in the kitchen.”He carefully wipes off the frosting I flung during my previous hand motion from his forearm.“Kid doesn’t even get this much shit everywhere when he’s making lasagna from scratch.”

There’s no stopping my fingers from flying up in surprise.“You can make lasagna from scratch?!”

“Ican,” Kid warmly chuckles prior to pointing to the droplet on my thigh.“And you reallycan’tkeep things clean in here.”

“You can’t even keepyouclean in here, Rabbit,” Mutt swiftly teases.

My mouth instantly drops to unleash a snappy retort yet has the clapback cut off courtesy of his tongue slowly swiping away the drips on my bare thigh that’s closest to him.Rather than scold, I whimper and writhe, two actions that apparently warrant another roll of his tongue over the sensitive spot.

This time my frame inches closer to the edge of the table prompting Kid to clamp his hand down on the opposite thigh.

Push it open wider.

Hungrily murmur, “I see another spot that needs to be wiped up.”

The feeling of his warm, wet tongue on my figure also receives a whimper.

A wiggle.

“Such a messy, little slut,” Mutt wolfishly chastises at the same time he pushes my thigh further as well.“You need us to clean you right here, right now, don’t you?”

“Yes,” airily leaves me while extending my non-injured wrist backward for extra support.

“Yes, what?” grunts the older grouch in the room before indulging in a harsh bite of my inner thigh.

“Yes, Sir,” I swiftly amend, thankfully rewarded for my quick, moaned correction.

Each of my men work in tandem to wash away the droplets of frosting.

Brazenly bathe the brown skin they cross.

Maneuver me out of my cheeky, lace panties and into a sprawled position that allows my toes to lightly brush the tops of their now exposed cocks.

“Look at that shit, Kid,” demands Sir, simultaneously threading his fingers through the back of our boyfriend’s hair.“Look at how fucking filthy our little whore is.” Between his words and the pushing of Kipp’s face towards my pussy, there’s no stopping more wetness from coating my lower lips.“Look at what she needs us to clean up.”

Animalistic groans are instantly heard.

Felt.

“You first,” our boyfriend commands on a smush of Kid’s face forward.“Show me how good you can be during cleanup, you dirty, little fuck.”

Hesitation to begin licking doesn’t exist.

And neither does reluctance for Nolan to use my foot like he would my fingers to stroke his dick.

One swipe at my clit is immediately matched by one rub against the underside of my curling toes while one, hard suck on the sensitive, swelling nub, is mirrored by one, hard thrust between whichever digits are first to spread.

Stickiness coating my tips prompts stickiness to steadily seep across Kid’s tenaciously whirling tongue,yet when the soaked slit of his cock feverishly begins brushings against the arch of my foot, louder, headier moans propel me forward, leaving me no choice but to latch onto Mutt’s hair since he has Kipp’s.

“Fuckkkkk,” growls Sir, yanking our soulmate’s head away, “let me taste you on her.”

His mouth replacing Kid’s is instantly felt.

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