Page 8 of Dripping Pearls

"He's saying that you're ours, Lola," Braxton answers for me, his voice firm and clear, leaving no room for misinterpretation. "We should have claimed you the minute you stepped off the elevator. We're claiming you now, lamb."

"C-claiming me?"

"Claiming you," I whisper in her ear. "Every inch of you is ours. We take care of you. We protect you. We hold you when you're afraid. We fuck you. You belong to us, Lola baby."

"Liam," she whimpers, trembling in my arms.

"You want that, don't you?"

"I…"

"Don't lie to us now, sweet girl," I croon, slipping my hand beneath the hem of her shirt. "You can have whatever you want. You just have to say the words."

"But…" She breaks off on a moan as I slide my palm up her belly, marveling at the way her entire body responds to my touch. Gooseflesh breaks out on her arms. The muscles in her abdomen contract beneath my hand. She arches toward my touch as if to get closer. Jesus, this woman is going to be a revelation when we get her naked.

"Tell us the truth, lamb," Braxton orders.

"Yes," she blurts.

I cup her right breast in my palm, earning a little cry of relief from her lips.

"Good girl," Braxton says.

"Jesus, Brax. She's a handful." I squeeze her tit through her lacy bra, leaking cum into my boxers like a faucet. Her tit overfills my hand, her nipple a hard point against my palm. "I can't fucking wait to see our marks all over these."

"Keep your mouth off of them until we get there," he snarls. "I don't want to wreck this car."

Lola whines her disappointment.

"It's okay, Lola baby. We'll make you feel real good when we get to the house." I nip at her throat again, raking my teeth down the tendon in the side of her neck. I ache to mark her right there so everyone knows she's been claimed, but I fight the urge. When we mark her, we do it together. I can't be greedy, not when Brax hasn't even gotten a taste of her yet. But that doesn't mean I can't play…or let him enjoy the show.

Drawing her shirt up her body with one hand, I yank the cups of her bra down with the other. She cries out as the lace rakes across her sensitive nipples. If anyone happens to look in our direction, they won't see anything. Braxton's windows are tinted within an inch of being illegal, and everyone is too focused on the road ahead to pay any attention to what we're doing anyway. Besides, this is Los Angeles. People fuck like rabbits all over this city.

"Pinch her sweet little nipples," Braxton growls from the driver's seat. "I want to hear her moaning your name."

She squirms in anticipation, her eyes dilated with desire. If she's still confused about what's happening between us, she doesn't voice it. She doesn't tell me no or try to stop me either. She's an eager little thing, panting with excitement as I tuck her shirt into the seatbelt to keep it out of the way.

"Do you like having your nipples played with, Lola?" I chafe them with my palms, teasing her. They're fat little peaks, as pink as her cheeks. If her cunt is the same color, I'm going to lose my goddamn mind when I get my mouth on it. I may never stop eating it.

"I don't…I don't know."

I freeze. So does Braxton.

"You don't know?"

"I've never…."

"Jesus Christ," Braxton breathes.

"She's a fucking virgin," I growl at the same time.

"Is that bad?"

Bad? God no. But it's painful as hell knowing she's untouched and we're stuck in this fucking car, in this fucking storm, unable to claim what belongs to us.

I pinch both of her nipples at the same time, twisting gently.

"Liam!" she cries out, her ass leaving the seat.

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