He’s frozen, completely rigid in the armchair, one hand gripping the backrest like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. His chest rises and falls too fast, eyes dark and blown as his attention flickers between me rocking against Beau’s lap and Connor openly touch himself over his jeans.
He looks like he might actually pass out.
The realization sends a pulse of heat straight through me as Beau pulls me back into another deep, filthy kiss.
His mouth moves over mine with unhurried intent, tongue sliding in a way that makes my hips roll down into his impossibly harder, chasing that solid pressure even through layers of fabric.
His huge hands stay on my ass, and I feel how hard he is beneath me, how controlled he’s being—
And it makes mereckless.
I rock down harder, and Beau groans into my mouth, low and rough, teeth catching briefly on my lip.
“Fuck, Emery,” he mutters, breath hot against my skin. “You’re doing this on purpose.”
I smile against his mouth. “Maybe.”
That’s when Connor steps closer. I don’t hear him at first, so much as Ifeelhim—heat at my side, the shift in the air, the way Beau’s attention flicks briefly away and then back again, sharper now.
Connor’s voice is rough when he speaks.
“Alright,” he says, tone easy but eyes dark. “My turn.”
Beau huffs a short laugh against my throat. “Nah.”
Connor lifts a brow. “Excuse me?”
Beau’s hands tighten on my hips.
“I’ve got a better idea.”
The look Connor gives him is all curiosity and challenge. “Yeah?”
Beau leans in and murmurs something in my ear that makes my breath hitch instantly, and my knees almost give out.
“Oh,” Connor says, understanding dawning slow and bright across his face. “Thatisa good idea.”
Beau slides his hands up my sides, unhurried, and then,together, they strip me.
Connor’s fingers tug my shirt up and over my head while Beau’s mouth trails down my throat, kisses hot and open, distracting me as hands work at my waistband. My clothes are gone piece by piece, each touch intentional and reverent.
By the time I’m naked, I’m trembling.
Connor backs away first until he drops onto the couch and sprawls back against the cushions, hands laced behind his head, jaw slack with want.
I swallow thickly as Beau turns me without a word, his palms firm as he steers me backward, positioning me exactly where he wants me.
“Sit.”
My knees bend as Beau guides me down.
I hover just above Connor's face, and feel his breath first: hot, and oh so intentional. His hands slide up my thighs, his fingers spreading me open before I even realize I’ve stopped thinking, and then his mouth closes around me.
The sensation is instant and dizzying; his tongue pressing deep before pulling back just to make me gasp.
My knees wobble and I cry out softly, hands flying out to brace against Beau’s forearms as Connor groans into my cunt.
“That’s it,” Connor murmurs, voice muffled and rough against my skin. “Christ, you taste unreal.”
