Page 65 of Orphan Girl's Mountain Men

He doesn't need any further invitation. His mouth claims mine in a deep, drugging kiss. I hear Lennon's protesting breath—then a groan. I know the hand that slides into my panties is his.

CHAPTER 24

Reed

God, she's burning up in my hands.

I thought I'd have to talk her into this—not because she didn't want it, but because it's a hell of a thing to offer. Hailey's no prude, but she doesn't exactly scream 'wild child' either. Definitely not the type who makes a habit of going with three men at once.

She didn't know what to do with her feelings—so she tried to shut them down. Tried to push us away. I see that now, clear as day, when before I let jealousy and pride cloud everything up.

That day she told me she liked Dean? She never said she didn't like me too. Never actually rejected me. She just didn't think I'd be okay with her wanting all of us.

Oh, she has no idea how down I am.

I want her—badly—any way I can have her. These last few days, trying to pretend I'm okay just being her friend? Torture. Pure fucking torture.

But being with her now... it's like stepping into sunlight after weeks of rain. That tight weight in my chest loosens. The tension in my shoulders finally lets go.

Hailey's the only thing that makes it better.

And the three of us together? That's not chaos—that's harmony. We're a unit. We've always been a unit. Dean, Lennon, and me. We've got that locked-in rhythm, that sixth sense for each other—and if we can bring that to bed? Hell, she's going to be wrecked in the best possible way. I want to see her unravel.

No—I want to feel it. Be it. Right now, I want to see exactly what Lennon's doing to make her moan like that into my mouth.

I ease back from her lips and gently lower her onto the bed. Her body writhes, hips chasing Lennon's fingers as he works her—slow, deliberate. And damn, if that isn't one of the hottest things I've ever seen.

My cock's already rock hard, aching, leaking. But I don't touch it. Not yet. Right now, she's the main event.

She's gorgeous like this. Flushed cheeks, parted lips, eyes dark with need. Her fingers clutch the sheets, her back arches into Lennon's touch as his thumb brushes her clit, then dips lower.

Lennon's got that quiet, focused look on his face—like he's memorizing every breath, every sound. When she grabs his shirt and whispers, "Please," he leans in and kisses her—slow, reverent. But his fingers? They don't stop moving.

Her head falls back, a breathy moan slipping from her lips. One hand reaches out—and I know instantly what she wants. I take it, letting her pull me down into another kiss. Her mouth is hot and desperate against mine, and fuck, this is better than any fantasy.

"I missed you," I murmur, gripping her hair, tugging gently so I can nip her lower lip, then lick it softly. "Missed you so fucking much."

She opens her eyes, glazed with heat, locked onto mine. Then she gasps—and I glance down to see Lennon curling his fingers just right, rubbing that perfect spot inside her.

"God, that feels so good, Lennon," she hisses, her whole body shuddering. He watches her like she's a miracle, his fingers never slowing.

Not to be outdone, I slip my hand under her shirt and ease it up over her ribs. Her bra's still in place, but I can feel the tight peak of her nipple through the fabric—already hard and aching for touch. I roll it between my fingers, and she arches with a whimper, her breath catching.

I duck down to suck her nipple through her bra, dragging my tongue over the damp cotton. She lets out a cry and grabs my hair, holding me there like she can't bear to let go.

"Fuck, she just got wetter," Lennon murmurs, awe in his voice. "Keep doing that."

Like hell I'm stopping.

I let go long enough to whip her shirt entirely off and toss it aside. Her bra follows in seconds, her pants and panties soon follow, and suddenly she's bare—her breasts flushed, her nipples tight and begging for attention. I lean back in, taking one into my mouth, sucking and teasing with my tongue, while she writhes between us, gasping both our names.

Then I shift her, pulling her into my lap so her back's flush against my chest and her legs are spread wide open for Lennon. I cradle her breasts in both hands, kneading them, tweaking her nipples, as he leans forward and sucks one into his mouth.

She moans loudly, riding my thigh, her slick heat grinding against me. Every shift of her hips brushes her ass against my cock—maddening, electric friction that pushes me closer to the edge.

She's trembling. So close already. And fuck, so am I.

Doing this to her—hearing those wanton cries, feeling her shudder against me—it pushes me right to the edge. I can't take it anymore.

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