Page 55 of The Dead Don't Talk
Blame it on me
Amo
There must be somethingin the smoke. The haze that’s coming from the burning stick in the corner. The fact that there’s a man snuggling with another man mere feet from me.
Another queer couple.
It makes my chest feel fuller and my cock way too hard as I press it into Moros’s thigh.
I know it’s the wrong time, wrong kind of place, but dammit, I amhorny. Like … uncontrollably so.
He’s gone so still that I sense his uneasiness, but I can’t fucking help myself. It’s like the two of them have opened up something inside me and I’m not even mad about it.
I can’t even remember what Kyrt was talking about.
“Pleassse, Moros?” I whisper to him, desperate to pull his attention from whatever it was Kyrt said that made him mad. “Please play with my hole.”
That does it.
The rumble of his response vibrates through his chest and across my face.
It makes me even hotter.
“Such a fuckingwhore,” Moros grinds out, lowering with his words, and just when I think he’s going to put his mouth on me to shut me up, I feel his rough hands between my legs. He lifts me, hooking the back of my knees over his elbows, and the motion sends the top part of me backwards.
I yelp and cringe, prepared to meet the floor with the top of my head as he straightens with me in his arms.
Instead, I hit something else.
“Damn, boss, a little warning next time.”
Wilson’s heat at my back has me groaning out a sigh of relief.
Because while I love Moros, he’s a dick.
The kind that might just knock me out to shut me up and fuck me anyway.
I should probably talk to someone about how okay I am with that or why I’m getting harder thinking about it, but I won’t.Except maybe Cassia.
I trust him … enough to not kill me at least.
“Where are you taking us?” I ask as Moros starts walking, his thunderous steps taking us back toward the main hall and away from a giggling Kyrt. He turns at the last second, just before we reach the door back to the outside, and kicks his way into a room I don’t recall seeing before.
But I’m also not all together that focused onwherewhen all I feel is the heat and hardness of Moros and Wilson surrounding me.
Fingers curling into my hair have my head pulling back to rest on Wilson’s shoulder. It’s softer than the grip on my hips that holds me up and I feel a tingle in my chest at the difference.
Like eating cold cream on top of hot pie.
“Grab his neck, baby.” A shiver runs down my spine at the smooth command, and I lock my fingers around Moros’s nape. “Yeah, just like that.”
Wilson slowly drops behind me, and I whine at the loss until I feel the back of my pants being tugged down by his thick fingers.
Cool air hits my spread cheeks, my hole, and he leaves my pants bunched just under where my thighs meet my ass.
My sight collides with Moros’s dark stare while something hot and wet pokes at my puckered rim. It doesn’t shock me like it should, the sudden intimate contact in a strange room, instead it makes me sigh.
And Wilson moans.
