Page 62 of Dukes of Peril

She gasps, her pussy clenching around me as I fuck my cum into her. Biting down on a groan, my hand smacks hard against the mirror. It doesn’t stop. Wave after wave of cum, my cock jerking as it feeds it into her, so slick and warm. The only thing that distracts me from it is the sensation of her fingers, fluttering soothingly through my hair.

It feels like it lasts hours, emptying my balls–my soul–into her. Vinny’s pussy wrings me of every drop, her hips giving these little, mindless nudges into mine, like she’s afraid of losing what I’ve already given.

When it’s finally done, I turn my head to catch a glimpse of her flushed face, prying my hips free of her clutches. She makes a sharp sound, grabbing for me, but I’m already gone.

And dropping to my knees.

Hooking my hands around her thighs, I hitch her closer to the edge, glancing up to watch her heavy, glazed eyes. My lips brush over the star tattooed beside her hip as I count the points.

Real.

All real.

Hovering over the dark ink, I feel it most acutely here, the purple spark illuminating every corner of my mind. Her eyes crash shut, but she writhes eagerly when my mouth ventures lower. Her pussy tastes like heaven because it’sus. My cum is dripping out, so I lick it up for her, pushing it back inside with the tip of my tongue. It’s too much, though–so much that it rushes out, filling my mouth, hot and bitter.

I spring up instantly, grabbing her jaw, working the hinge of it open with my thumb. She stares up at me with a dazed expression, lips parting. When my own mouth opens, the cum streams right into hers and she shudders, clamping her palm around my neck to bring me closer. I taste it on her tongue as I push it inside, needing her to keep it–every drop.

Finally, she swallows.

“Remy,” she gasps, chest jumping with desperate breaths. “Please.”

The frantic little squirm of her hips sends me back down, my knees protesting as they land hard on the floor. Her clit is so ripe and swollen that I can practically feel it throbbing on my tongue. Any cum that’s left between her legs gets fucked back in with my two fingers as I bring her to the edge, tongue swirling wildly around her clit.

She comes with a soundless scream, her whole body seizing as she claws my hair, demanding more.

I feel her trembles all the way down to my marrow.

It’s only when she jolts, heel slamming into my bad shoulder–too sensitive–that I fall away, crashing back onto my elbows with an exhausted sigh. She looks like fine art when I raise my eyes, though. Thighs spread, pussy pink and glistening, face red and sweaty.

I’ve never seen so much purple in my life.

My eyes fall on the star, the memory of tattooing it there fuzzier than I’d like. But I remember the way she looked, so vulnerable, yet so impenetrable as I pushed the needle into her skin.

“Vinny.” When her eyes fall on me, soft and tired and warm, I feel higher than any pill could ever make me. “I have an idea.”

11

Lavinia

Remyand I ride home in the back seat together. Nick and Sy are in the front, and every now and then, one of them will shoot us furtive looks, Nick glancing back while his brother peers through the rearview. There’s a low vibration running between the brothers, like they’re afraid to ask what transpired in the lounge. Or maybe they already know. These men know one another inside and out. I’m the new one here, learning to understand the shorthand that passes between them. The looks. The gestures.

Like Remy’s hands never leaving my body.

Right now, he’s stroking my thigh, his green eyes fixed to the patch of skin like he’s greeting it after returning from a long deployment in a war. Every street we pass, his fingers change course for a new destination, tickling the thin skin of my inner elbow, caressing the bruises on my knuckles, tracing the edge of my collarbone. It’s almost like he needs to learn my body again–making up for lost time.

I let him, because every touch makes me shiver in a new way, even though both of us are fucked out and exhausted when we finally arrive at the tower.

The climb to the top is quiet and slow, but somehow, there’s still a restless energy flowing between all of us. It’s in Nick’s blue eyes when he passes me nearing the party room, his knuckles grazing mine before sliding away.

When we reach the top, Sy lets us in, holding the door for each of us as we filter through. Both brothers watch as Remy hems me in against the arch by the kitchen, caging me with his body.

“Come to my room tonight,” he says, forearm resting over my head. He towers over me, lean but muscular, the hem of his shirt rising up to give me a tease of the strip of flesh above his low-slung jeans. As I’m staring at it–fine, maybe I’ve been missing his skin, too–he tucks his thumb into my shorts and circles the pad of it over the star, sending flares of heat radiating outward. “Please?” he adds, quiet and coaxing.

My eyes narrow. “What’s this idea of yours?” I ask. Although I’m partly nervous, I also can’t deny the part of me that’s excited, curious. With Remington Maddox, you never fucking know.

His green eyes search mine, curious in their own way. “I’ll tell you when we get there.”

In case this idea of his involves more emotionally wrought, athletic sex, I warn, “Okay, but just so you know, I’m gonna need about ten ibuprofen and a heating pad.” I wince at a spot on my side. “You were right. Haley’s dirty.”

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