“I’m yours,” I tell him, opening my legs wide. “Spear me with that monster cock,” I tease, licking my lips as I visually feast on his throbbing erection. Beads of precum glisten on the crown of his cock as he lowers to his knees on the couch. His face contorts painfully, and he hisses behind gritted teeth. He shouldn’t be doing this yet, but I’m not about to tell him how much pain he can withstand.
“You want help?” Saint asks, coming toward us.
“Fuck off, Saintly.” Galen glares at his cousin while lining his cock at my entrance. “I’m capable of fucking my girl without assistance.” He eases inside me, and I moan as he gradually fills me up.
Galen fucks me hard, even though I can tell he’s in pain, but he doesn’t have it in him to fuck me slowly, and I know he wants to get off inside me.
“Saintly,” I snap, clicking my fingers. “I need your mouth.” He crawls toward me, and our lips collide in a scorching-hot kiss as his cousin penetrates me with his hard cock. Saint slides his hand under the waistband of his sweatpants, freeing his hard-on and jerking himself off as he kisses me and fondles my tits.
Galen roars, shooting his load inside me in a combination of pleasure and pain. Never one to leave me unsatisfied, he slumps to the floor, leaning forward and pushing his fingers into my pussy. He adds another digit, roughly pumping in and out of me, and I come all over his fingers as Saint jerks off onto my tits.
“I’m dead,” I moan, unable to move, my body satiated and practically stuck to the couch.
“Welcome to the club,” Galen purrs, flopping on his back on the ground. “But if this is what death feels like, you can kill me any time.”
CHAPTER 8
IWAKE UPalone on Saturday, shocked when I glance at the clock to see it’s one o’clock in the afternoon. The guys literally fucked me into a deep sleep. Not that I’m complaining. I grab a shower, pull on a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a lacy black tank and wander downstairs in search of my guys.
I find them in the study, huddled together, talking quietly over mugs of coffee.
“What are you whispering about?” I prop my hip against the door frame, eyeing them suspiciously.
Saint jerks his head up, Theo stiffens, Caz bites on the corner of his lip, and Galen’s Adam’s apple jumps in his throat, confirming my suspicions.
My eyes narrow to slits as I step into the room. “If you’re cooking something up without me, you can fuck off.” I plant my hands on my hips, glaring at them. “I’m not putting up with this bullshit again, so spill.”
“No need to get your panties in a bunch, princess.” Saint stands, sauntering toward me with a shit-eating grin. “We were always going to tell you.”
“So, tell me.” I challenge him with a deadly look.
“We will. When you’re less pissed.”
I slap his chest, growling and snarling. “If you’re trying to annoy the crap out of me, you’re doing an excellent job.”
“Babe.” He grabs the nape of my neck, holding me firmly in place. “You trust us, right?”
“I don’t know,” I hiss. “Do I?”
“Princess.” He shakes his head. “Don’t go pissing me off because we both know how that’ll end.”
“With me choking on your cock?” I try to keep the hope from my tone, but I’m a lost cause when it comes to these guys and sex. I literally cannot keep my hands, or my thoughts, off them. This week has proven that. Even injured, I’ve been indulging my addiction several times a day.
“You are so fucking perfect, Harlow.” Saint yanks my mouth to his, kissing me hard, landing a slew of drugging, bruising kisses on my lips.
“Baby.” I grab his ass through his sweatpants, speaking in between kisses. “You know I hate stuff being kept from me.”
He grinds his hard-on against me, and my pussy pulses with need. “We needed to discuss it first,” he admits, winding his hands in my hair. “There will be occasions where we have guy stuff to discuss or occasions where you need to let us protect you. You can’t bust our balls every second of every day when we’re doing it for you.”
“Want to test that theory?” I arch a brow, rubbing my pelvis against his, my eyes rolling back in my head as the bulge in his pants presses against my zipper. “And now you’ve made me horny.”
“You’re perpetually horny,” Caz pipes up. “I fucking love it.”
“You guys make me crazy wet,” I admit. “It’s becoming problematic.”
My cell phone vibrates in my pocket, and I step away from Saint to answer it, smiling when I spot the caller. “Commander. Where are you?” I ask by way of greeting.
“At the gate. Let me in,” Diesel says, hanging up before I can answer.
