His breath fans against my pussy and clit, pulling against the front of my thighs to draw me back to him. I didn’t even notice, I’m gyrating for more. Need and want him inside me now more than ever.
“She’s fucking perfect, Mas. You see the way she sucks my cock? Fucking champ material.”
I’m not even paying attention to Emilio, more like riding a bike. Too caught in my head. Too worried about the taboo that this is, rather than enjoying it. Screw that. If I’m going to do this, I need to burn it down. Especially since I’m not sure I’ll let myself do it again.
“And this fat ass . . .”
A crack hits my butt, and I jolt away from the smarting pain ringing from it. The smack is so loud it gets Massimo to pause. He’s quick to shift away from licking to plant wet kisses across the painful area. Emilio groans, probably from me running from the pain and forcing more of his cock into my mouth. He’s thick and long. Veiny and warm. He’s already leaking with precum in my mouth.
He grips my other cheek, gives it a hard shake, and I brace myself for another smack that doesn’t come. Instead, his hand moves into my hair, cupping my head and setting the pace he wants. It’s rapid and ragged, the opposite of the sweet and slow sucking of his brother, slathering everything from my clit to my back door.
I close my eyes. Sensations flood every part of my body. Good and amazing. Rough and soft. The combination is making my head swim. Emilio stuffs his cock down my throat with the same recklessness as he did with his tongue. It makes me gag and cough.
“Em, stop! She’s not a fucking blow-up doll.”
Suddenly, everything stops.
My eyes fly open to see Massimo pushing off the bed, shoving Emilio back and out of my mouth. He wobbles, grasping at the air to keep from falling. The shorts are trapped between his legs and stuck on the plaster, causing him to fall into his brother. Massimo pulls his arm back, fist coiled and ready to strike. I’m off the bed and between them in a flash.
“No, stop it. Don’t you dare touch him.”
CHAPTER 13
EMILIO
Mas’s forearm jams across my throat before I even finish the damn sentence. My ass hits the wall. The cast scrapes the baseboard. If I didn’t have this stupid leg anchor, I’d already have him flipped on his back.
“You’re just showing off,” I choke out, shoving at his arm. His muscles feel like damn steel pipes.
Sofia’s voice cracks through the air. “Papito! Get off him!”
She stomps her foot like a pissed-off cartoon character with steam coming from her ears. Mas doesn’t move. He’s shaking, jaw tight, spit flying.
“Not showing off. I’ll beat you to a pulp if you ever treat her like that again. She’s precious, and she’s ours. I won’t let you ruin this because you’re a selfish fuck!”
I flinch when his spit hits my face. Gross, but it’s also my signal. He’s dead serious. That vein in his neck bulges like he’s two seconds from swinging.
“Mas, you’re losing your damn mind,” I rasp, pressing against the wall. “She’s not ours. Hell, she’s not even yours!”
That stops him for half a second. His fist cocks back anyway, ready to rocket straight into me. I tilt my head toward Sofia, voice breaking into a laugh that’s half-dare, half-plea.
“Tell him, my angel. Tell him the truth.”
The look on her face kills whatever noise was left in me. Mouth open. Eyes soft but wrecked. No words, just that silence that says everything. Mas sees it too. The fire drains out of him. His fist unclenches, his forearm loosening from my throat. He steps back, breathing hard, eyes flicking between us like he can’t believe what just happened.
I rub my neck, smirking even though my pulse is still racing. “Told you, bro. You keep building castles outta sand, don’t get mad when the tide comes in.”
But under the smart-ass grin, my chest hurts like hell. Because I like her. Not as much as Mas, but I could get there real quick. And it wouldn’t have taken me five weeks to get her almost in bed. Mas steps back like she slapped him. His chest is heaving, nostrils flaring, eyes still wild. He looks wrecked. Not angry wrecked. Heart cracked in half sorta wrecked.
And I hate that I recognize it. I’ve seen that look before.
On him.
After her.
Sofia shoves herself between us, one hand on my chest, one on his.
“Ay, enough!” Her voice isn’t loud, but it slices through us. “Both of you.”
