Page 18 of Trust in the Fallen

I push my boxer briefs off and I climb back onto the bed and take my spot back behind her. There’s something about having her body wrapped within mine that settles the demons that usually run rampant through my mind. She calms me in a way that’s so foreign I wouldn’t believe it was possible if someone had told me twelve hours ago.

Her breathy moans make my cock ache so badly I’m certain I’m going to die if I don’t get inside her soon, if I can’t feel her tightness wrap around me. By the way Elias is looking down at her, his hand fisting his own cock, it’s evident that he’s right there with me.

She bites her pouty bottom lip and squeezes her eyes shut. She’s trying not to speak, to beg for the release Elias is teasing her with. The man’s a master of control. He’s always been the disciplined one while I’m the indulgent one. If I were in his position I’d be overwhelming her with orgasm after orgasm until she was begging me to stop, until her pretty pussy was so sensitive it was painful, and then I’d probably make her come a time or two more.

“You’re so pretty when you’re chasing your pleasure, angel,” I whisper against the shell of her ear. “I bet your greedy cunt is soaking his fingers, isn’t that right, baby?”

She gasps out a moan and nods against my chest.

“Words, Leighton,” Elias reminds her. He withdraws his fingers from her pussy, and before she can let out the breath of disappointment, a hard slap hits her wet folds, causing her to scream.

“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry,” she rushes out.

I brush my finger up her sides gently, soothing some of the sting as goose bumps spread across her milky skin. Jesus, she’s perfect. Every inch of her is soft and unblemished, a direct contrast to the darkness Elias and I carry around with us.

“I think she’s ready.” He looks up at me, the lust burning in his eyes brighter than I’ve ever seen.

I smile down at my angel, her eyes darting between us like she can’t quite work out what we’re talking about. “Come here, baby.” I lift her and carefully turn her until she’s facing me, her knees trapped between mine.

Her gaze darts from me to Elias over her shoulder, but I quickly capture her chin between my fingers and bring her lips down to mine, desperate to taste her. “One day we’ll both take that pretty pussy together, Elias will fuck your pussy while I fuck your ass, we’ll have you in every single way we can think of.” Her eyes widen until her brows are almost in her hairline, and I can’t catch the chuckle before it leaves my throat. “But not yet.”

I slip my fingers into her hair, fisting the soft strands and pulling her until her lips clash with mine. My tongue demands entrance immediately, needing to taste her, to claim her, to take the air right from her lungs so she can’t breathe without me. Because I have a feeling after tonight, I won’t be able to suck in a breath without her.

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

LEIGHTON

They’re too good at this. It shouldn’t be possible for two men to be able to constantly render me speechless while simultaneously reading my body better than even I can. And yet here we are.

Wyatt takes my lips hungrily, his tongue demanding entrance, and I’m powerless to deny him.

I can’t breathe.

I’ve never been this wired, this in need, in my life. I thought romance novels were lying when they said you could feel so consumed by another human being, or in my case, two. But they weren’t lies, or even exaggerations. If anything, they played down just how much fire someone else can ignite in you.

I’m on my knees between Wyatt’s legs, his hands holding me steady, but I feel anything but. Giving control over to someone should come naturally seeing as I’ve been doing it my whole life. First my parents, every move dictated, every after school activity organized, and then Jason. Heck, Jason was decided by my parents, too. They decided I would marry him. They told me I would live my life as nothing more than arm candy for a man set for greatness. I had no choice in the matter.

But I have a choice in this. And I hand the control over willingly. I was taught never to trust easily, except where my parents were concerned of course, but this comes as easily as breathing. Submitting to these men, handing my decisions and body to them is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.

“You okay, Angel?” Wyatt asks me quietly. His palm presses against my cheek, the warmth of his calloused hand giving me something to cling to.

I nod. “Yes, Sir.”

He smiles at me, his eyes showing a vulnerability I don’t remember ever seeing in Jason. “Good girl. You tell me if that changes, yeah?”

I give him a small nod but decide words aren’t necessary in this instance. I don’t know that I’d ever get the hang of this, but for one night I can feel my way through.

A satisfied smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and he fists a hand in my hair as he looks up at whatever Elias is doing behind me.

Part of me wants to look, to see his dark eyes and see firsthand what he’s doing, but Wyatt’s grip on my hair holds me in place, keeping me from doing something that would almost definitely lead to more punishment. Not that I’d be altogether upset about that. There’s something freeing about the pain. Which is strange because my pain tolerance has always been next to nothing. But it’s different. Everything is when their hands are on me.

Fingers move between my ass cheeks and circle my puckered hole, the one Jason never would have dared to think of touching. I flinch but force my body to remain still.

“Relax, pretty girl,” Elias soothes, trailing his deft fingers lower until they dip into my wetness. My entire body buzzes with barely-contained need, the evidence of my arousal dripping down my thighs. “Someone’s needy.”

Wyatt chuckles and tugs my hair until I’m forced to look into his eyes. They’re harder than they were before, like he’s trying desperately to hold on to control. The flecks of darkness make my stomach clench, something I’ve never been attracted to before. Safety has always been what I craved, but right now, the danger these two men emit is better than any sense of calm I can imagine. Maybe it’s the way my core is pulsing that stops all rational thought, or maybe there’s something that’s been dormant within me, waiting for something to break it free.

“She does look desperate, doesn’t she?”

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