Page 25 of Trust in the Fallen

Despite his tone, Elias has handled this well. Normally if a sub were to say something negative about themselves, they’d find themselves with a bright red ass and be denied for the rest of the night.

But not Leighton.

His eyes flick to me, and I nod as I carefully pull her down off his lap until her head rests on his knee, and she’s spread out for me. The shirt she’s wearing has ridden up and shows off the shapely legs that will be wrapped around my neck in a few seconds.

There’s an uncertainty in her eyes that I don’t like, but I don’t stop to ask questions. It seems as if sometimes with Leighton, the only way to get past her walls is to crash right through them until she forgets about whatever bullshit that asshole ex of hers thinks. Soon she’ll learn there are only two people on the earth she needs to please, and we’ll do just about anything to make her smile.

I glide my hands up the soft skin of her thighs, gathering the shirt and pushing it up until her perfect pussy is on display. Jesus fucking Christ. She’s beautiful.

Her arousal fills the room, and I can almost taste her. I can’t take it another second. I need to worship her. I need to show our angel that whatever lies she’s been told are just that. Lies.

I dip down and drag my tongue over her soft folds, and we let out a mutual groan. She tastes fucking divine, and I don’t waste another second before burying my face in her cunt.

I flick my gaze up to Elias, but he’s caught up in Leighton. One of his hands is wrapped around hers, holding them above her head on his other knee, while the other wraps gently around her throat, massaging her pulse point.

“That’s it, little one, grind that pretty pussy all over his face,” he murmurs, his lips brushing over her cheek in an intimate gesture I don’t think I’ve ever seen from him before. We’ve shared a lot of women, but I think we can both agree at this point we may have found the last.

His reassurance gives her the confidence to lift her hips and take exactly what she needs from me, and I’m more than happy to give her everything she could possibly want.

“You can come whenever you need to, pretty girl.”

I shoot a look at him because he’s always been stingy with giving women orgasms, always wanting to drag their pleasure out for as long as he possibly can. I don’t think I’veeverheard him give a woman free rein without the plan of overwhelming her with more orgasms than she can handle. But his gaze is stuck on her, his eyes flitting over her face, taking her in as she lets out a gentle moan.

Maybe I never allowed myself to consider what it would be like if we ever found the woman that would make us whole, but I guess this is it.

We found her.

And we’re never going to let her go.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE

LEIGHTON

The cold light of morning reminds me that last night was a one time only kind of deal. As nice as it’s been to be worshipped by the men sleeping on either side of me, it was just a bit of fun, and now I need to get back to my real life.

Even as I think it, my body tenses involuntarily. I don’t want to go back to Jason. I don’t want to hear from my mother about what a lovely man he is and how a woman like me should feel lucky that he wants to marry me. And I certainly don’t want to go back to the monotonous life I’ve grown accustomed to.

I don’t want to feel alone anymore. If only I had a choice in the matter. But I learned long ago that I don’t. I’m just a pawn in someone else’s game, and that’s all I’ll ever be.

Before last night, I’d made peace with that. I’d accepted that some people just aren’t destined to feel real love or to live a life that sparks joy in their souls. I’m just one of those unlucky people. But actually experiencing it, feeling what it’s like to have someone, two someones in this case, care for me, it’s going to make it hard to go back.

Wyatt’s arm is thrown over my middle, his warmth making it even harder to make myself leave, while Elias’s gentle breaths whisper across my cheek from where he’s buried his face in my hair. Is this what it feels like to be wanted?

I can’t remember the last time Jason held me through the night, or even when he had sex with me because he couldn’t bear to not touch me for another second. Has he ever felt like that with me? I’d often wondered if he had a reminder set in his phone once a week to have sex with me, just to keep up the pretense of our relationship, but that would be ridiculous…right?

Given I found him with another woman last night, maybe not so much.

I flex my ankle, and some of the searing pain has eased with sleep and how well it was taken care of last night. Is it terrible of me that I kind of hoped it would still be bad? That I wouldn’t be able to leave because I couldn’t walk on it?

Disappointment floods me at the thought of walking out the door and never seeing Wyatt and Elias again. But what other option do I have?

With a sigh of acceptance, I wiggle my way from Wyatt’s hold and slip down to the end of the bed, carefully testing my foot to make sure I can walk on it. I wince, but the pain is bearable.

As quietly as I can manage, I creep around the room collecting the clothes they stripped from me last night. Images of their mouths on my skin, their hands bending me in the ways they wanted, of the way every ounce of their attention focused on me, assault me with each step I take.

Even as I throw a glance over my shoulder, deciding once and for all to leave, I know I’m making a mistake. Because nothing has ever felt as good as being theirs, even if it was just for the night.

The cab ride home feels like an eternity, and yet it’s not long enough. Every mile I put between me and the brownstone feels like an entire continent and regret settles low in my belly.

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