Dante breathes out, “Ummph…damn,” and I take that as my cue.
I crawl up, kneeling behind Lucas and flipping the top on the lube. Even though he said he prepped, I use a generous amountwhen circling his rim. I work in one finger, then two, then three, to the sounds of his muffled whimpers.
Goddamn, I’ll be hearing those whimpers in my dreams.
Slowly, I fuck him with my fingers, kissing and biting his ass. I sink my teeth into the muscle hard enough to leave a mark. If he is screwing someone else—a lethal situation that better end tonight—I want that soon-to-be-missing person to know he’s mine.
I wonder if he’ll let me tattoo my name on him:Property of Desmond Rossi.It’d hold significant meaning in New York, not so much in LA. We’ll have to move.
Lucas squeezes around my fingers, breaking me from my possessive thoughts, and pushes back against me. I interpret that as a silent indication he wants me to fill him.
Thank fuck, because I’m steadily leaking precum and dying to get inside him. I tear open the condom and roll it on, hoping to ditch them next time. I want to feel him raw, load his ass with my cum. My dick kicks in agreement as I line us up.
“Hurry up, Des. I’m not gonna last long. His mouth is fucking phenomenal.”
My twin’s strained words and Lucas’ erotic moans send zaps of pleasure straight to my balls, drawing them up tight.
I seize his hips and slide into him in one smooth, firm stroke. To say he feels like home would be cheesy, but… “Jesus, fuck, your ass just swallowed my soul.”
Dante releases a babble of expletives, but my gaze remains glued to the sight of Lucas stretched around my girth. It’s hypnotizing. Addicting. “All mine.”Ours?I don’t know; my head is on cloud nine.
I pull back until only the crown of my cock is squeezed by him and punch forward, driving all the way in. He cries out, gripping me like a vise and miking me. Fucking heaven.
The three of us turn feral, falling into a mad rhythm of desperate moans and slapping skin. I fuck Lucas hard and deep while his head bobs, blowing my twin. Nothing could be more perfect.
My heart hammers, muscles coiled tight, and my breath hitches in my throat. Wildfire consumes my body. I won’t last long. “Come with me, piccino. Make yourself come.”
I piston in and out of his ass while he jerks himself furiously. He lets out a strangled cry, pulsing around me as he comes, and I’m a goner.
“Fucking…fuck.” I slam into him, jolting and cursing this condom for ruining my best orgasm. We’ll have to try again. Tomorrow morning. If he lets me.
The momentum of my final thrusts causes Lucas to choke on my brother, and Dante growls.
“I’m gonna come, baby. Keep sucking my cock… So fucking good…” His words trail off with a rumbling groan.
I gasp for breath and shudder with aftershocks. “Do I propose now or…?”
Chapter 13
Ethan
Iwake with Jackson nuzzled against my side, his leg between mine, his hand resting below my collarbone. I’d fallen asleep last night playing with his hair while he talked about Aurora and how he believes she and Reece are fighting, how he thinks Reece is struggling.
I get it. Reece and I share certain similarities. We both believe a man’s role is to protect and provide, and right now, he’s injured, reliant on others. I’d hate it too.
I’m not worried about Reece. He’ll manage, he always does. Even if he’s struggling, he’ll look after our girl, and he’ll let me know if he can’t. Plus, I have the twins. They’ll safeguard what’s mine as if it were their own, and they’re damn good at it.
I’m more worried about the man lying on my chest.
Jesus, I never thought those words would enter my consciousness.
I turn my head and inhale the scent of coconut and citrus. I run my fingers through Jackson’s soft hair, and a highlight reel of him sucking me off last night replays in my mind.
The way he stared up at me, pleading eyes brimming with desperate hunger, as if he wanted to devour every part of me—body, heart, and soul.
The image alone stirs something deep within me.
He’s addictive and unpredictable. I thought being in love with Aurora was scary—Jax is ten times worse. I can’t control him.Hecan’t control himself. When he’s depressed or on the edge, or when he puts himself in danger to protect us…
