Page 50 of Trust in the Fallen

I expect him to look at me like I’m being stupid, because that’s exactly how Jason would be staring at me right now, but there’s nothing but softness in his eyes. He plucks the glass from between my fingers and deposits it beside his own.

“We can take care of ourselves, angel.” He flips us so fast I barely catch the squeal before it tears from my throat. His huge frame presses mine into the couch, the evidence of his erection pressing into my belly. “But the fact you’re worried about us makes me want to fuck you so fucking hard you can’t breathe.”

I gasp at his words. You’d think I would be used to their filthy mouths by now, but growing up in such a conservative home has obviously left its mark. I take a steadying breath, pulling all the false bravado I can manage and look him right in the eye. “Then why don’t you?”

His eyes flare with heat. “Is that a challenge, Leighton?”

I shrug under his weight, but the heat in my cheeks will be more than enough for him to know I’m anything but nonchalant.

Before I can take another breath, his lips crash down on mine, his need bleeding into every press of his lips. His tongue demands entry, and I open willingly, needing to feel all of him against all of me.

He shoves the shirt I’m wearing up my thighs and quickly tears my panties from my body, the bite of the fabric only making me kiss him harder.

I run my hands down his back, clawing at his shirt until he pulls back for long enough for me to push it over his head.

His hands travel over my ribs, careful as he brushes the ones that haven’t quite healed yet. He catches my lips again in a ferocious kiss, like he won’t be able to breathe if he isn’t kissing me. And honestly, that’s exactly how I feel right now.

I reach for his sweatpants and shove them down as far as I can before he takes over, discarding them across the room.

He pushes a hand between my legs and when his fingers move over my wet folds, he groans deeply. “Is all this for me, angel?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

His fingers pinch my clit, and I cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He smiles down at me, his eyes glinting with satisfaction that makes my stomach flutter. I’ve spent my whole life trying to please everyone around me, but with them, it’s as easy as breathing. “Good girl.”

He lifts one of my legs, pressing it against my chest while he keeps close attention to my reaction. He lines up his length with my entrance and sinks forward slowly.

We let out a collective moan, and he drops his forehead to mine. His hips drive back and forth, unhurried, never allowing his gaze to stray from mine for even a second.

There’s something so intimate about the moment, about how he holds my body as if it’s the most precious thing to him, how he peppers kisses along my cheeks before returning to staring into my eyes, how he drives into me with deliberate movements that bring me closer to the edge with each thrust.

“Fuck you feel so good, angel,” Wyatt grunts right before he crashes his lips down on mine again. It’s the first time I’ve been with one of them without the other, and while I’ve wondered how, and if, a real relationship between three people could work, I haven’t been brave enough to ask the questions that sit on the tip of my tongue.

But right now none of that matters. All that matters is the man thrusting into me like he’ll die without me, and it’s that thought that brings me right to the edge.

“Come, Leighton. Come right the fuck now,” he demands through gritted teeth, and I follow his command without hesitation.

The orgasm that crashes over me steals the breath right from my lungs. I claw at Wyatt’s back, trying desperately to hold on through the violent tremors that rack through my body.

His muscles tense under my hands, and he lets out a roar as his release fills me.

Wyatt collapses on top of me, but he’s careful to keep most of his weight from me. His face buries into my neck while mine does the same to his.

For a moment I allow myself to consider what a life with these men could be like. How would it feel to be cherished every day? What would it be like if I never had to go back to Jason, if I never had to see my parents again?

Bliss.

Someone clears their throat in the doorway and we both look up to see Elias leaning against the frame in a fitted suit, a smirk etched into his full lips. “Did I miss all the fun?”

CHAPTERFORTY-SEVEN

ELIAS

Iheard their moans from the porch steps, and for a moment I hesitated, not wanting to interrupt their time together.

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