Page 51 of Trust in the Fallen

We haven’t discussed how this is going to work with Leighton yet, but Wyatt and I had a brief conversation a few days ago, agreeing if we were going to make this work, we were going to each need time with her alone, as well as together.

But I couldn’t stay away even if I wanted to.

I let myself into the house and take careful steps toward the moans. As soon as I step through the doorway to the living room I find the source.

Wyatt’s body thrusts into Leighton’s, holding her close. Her eyes flutter open and closed, so wrapped up in her pleasure that she doesn’t realize she’s being watched.

Not for the first time I wonder how deep her deviant streak runs. She’s shown time and time again that she can handle our darkness, and I have no doubt that when we finally give her everything, she’ll take it in her stride without hesitation. But there’s one thing I’m not so sure about.

The club.

The memory of her reaction to the sin and debauchery as we carried her through to our office is burned into my mind. She looked horrified.

Will she ever truly be able to accept that side of us?

And if she can’t, will we be able to give it up?

Before I can think much further on it, Leighton tumbles over the edge, her body clinging to Wyatt as she falls, and he’s right behind her.

I consider stepping out of the room, letting them enjoy their afterglow, but I’ve always been a selfish motherfucker, and my cock is aching to sink inside Leighton’s perfect pussy. We agreed to let her come to us, to not push her after Jason tried to violate her, but it’s been a fucking challenge. Watching her walk around our home in nothing but one of our shirts, her ass peeping out to tease us, and let’s not even fucking mention how she presses the delicious globes back into my cock as she sleeps.

Jesus, I’ve never had more cold showers than I have in the last week and a half.

I clear my throat, and they both peer up at me. Wyatt’s shit-eating smirk tells me the smug son of a bitch is glad he was the one that got her alone first, and Leighton’s blush is equally tempting as it is amusing.

“Did I miss all the fun?” I rasp, my own arousal clear in my voice.

“Right on time, brother.” Wyatt waves me over as he rolls Leighton on top of him, not allowing his cock to slip from her cunt. He’s never had any interest in coming inside a woman much less holding said cum inside her, but Leighton is the exception to the rule. His disappointment when she told us she was on birth control mirrored my own, and I can’t help but wonder how long it will take for us to convince her to come off it.

I round the couch and take a seat beside them, taking a moment to press a kiss to the top of Leighton’s head. I’m not ashamed to admit I missed her tonight. That’s why I’m home so early after all. I couldn’t handle being away from her any longer. I never thought I’d be one of those assholes who can’t be away from their woman, but here we are.

“Take his cock out, angel,” Wyatt instructs, and she doesn’t hesitate to do as she’s told. At least she’s learning.

Her fingers brush over my hard length, and her eyes flash with lust despite having just been fucked.

She fumbles with my belt, trying to work out how to unbuckle it without moving from her position on Wyatt’s softening cock. The furrow of her brow and the way she tucks her bottom lip between her teeth as she concentrates almost makes me take over just so I can be inside her sooner, but I allow her to continue until she finally flicks the clasp open with a satisfied smile.

A deep chuckle escapes my throat, but it doesn’t distract her from her task as she unbuttons my pants and promptly unzips them.

Her eyes widen when my hard cock pops through the zipper. I often don’t bother with underwear, preferring how it feels without them, but if this is going to be her reaction every time, I might set fire to my whole fucking underwear drawer.

Wyatt’s mouth opens to give her an order, but she’s already climbing from his lap to mine before he can get the first word out.

“Is my girl desperate for my cock?” I tease, capturing her hips in my hands and relishing in the softness of her skin. Her hair falls around her shoulders and down her chest. Her rosy nipples peek out through the strands, and I itch to pinch them, to have her writhing beneath me as I torture them.

“Yes, Sir.” She nods and I swear if my cock gets any harder it could cut through diamonds.

“Go on then, take what you need from me.” It takes every ounce of control I have to lean back against the cushions and remove my hands from her hips. Wyatt and I are not in the business of handing over control, but she needs this. She needs to know that we’re willing to make concessions for her if she can just be honest with us.

Leighton only hesitates for a second before gripping my aching length in her tiny hand and positioning it at her entrance. She’s fucking soaked, the mixture of hers and Wyatt’s releases evident as I slip inside her with ease. But fuck me is she glorious.

Her cunt is my very own brand of heroine.

Her head falls back as she takes every inch of my cock, a soft moan filling the room.

She rolls her hips slowly at first, figuring out what feels good for her, and it occurs to me this might be the first time she’s ever been on top. I haven’t asked a lot of questions about her experience, but I know it’s limited, and from what I know about her jackass ex-fiancé, I doubt he was up for more than some missionary and maybe doggy style if he was feeling adventurous.

“You’re taking him so well, angel,” Wyatt praises and she looks up at him, a small smile touching her lips.

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