"Oh fuck," Seven groans in a whisper.
"We'll fucking break her," Atticus says like it kills him to admit it, but Daddi always has to have something to argue about."I know how big I am," he tells me. "And I know how big they are."
He hooks his fingers against my g-spot, drawing a stuttered breath from my lips. "And I know how tight you are around two of my fingers, Trouble."
"Please," I beg. "I want…" A moan pushes out between my clenched teeth as I grip the edge of the table. "Let me try."
He growls, and Seven lets out another low chuckle next to me.
"You heard her." Elijah licks his lips, looking down at me through hooded eyes. "She can take it."
"Not yet," Atticus argues. "She's too tight."
At his words, he slips a third finger into my pussy, stretching me.
"I got it," Seven says, shouldering Atticus out of the way to take his place between my legs. "Our girl looks hungry, Atty. Go give her something to suck on."
Seven jerks down his pants, and my vision blurs with need as Atticus takes up position near the head of the table with Elijah, and I hear his tac gear unzipping, unbuckling, falling to the floor.
I suck in air as Seven rubs me, stealing the wetness right from my pussy to rub onto his cock before he positions himself between my thighs, bending my knees back and apart as he teases my opening with his tip.
Atticus's hungry gaze falls to my mouth, and I nod, closing my eyes as his long fingers curl around my neck, helping guide my head nearer to the opposite edge of the table. He's so fucking tall that he still has to crouch a little to get himself level with my mouth, but when he does—when I open for him—he wastes no time.
I taste the salt of his precum as his wide tip pushes through my lips, making me open as wide as the hinge of my jaw allows to take him in more than a few inches.
His hands shake where they hold my neck, and I smile to myself, wondering if he might be a little premature again. I don't know why that makes me so fucking feral. I push my throat against his tip, eyes rolling when I gag against him, purposefully trying to push him to that edge.
"Jesus,fuck, Trouble."
He pulls free of my mouth, and another hand caresses my jaw, turning my head to the right.
"Fuck my throat again," I ask breathlessly, shivering at Elijah's touch as his thumb brushes over my jaw, and I open for him. "Like before."
There's something close to pain in his expression as he feeds himself to me, inch by delicious inch.
That's when Seven thrusts into me. It's one long, brutal stroke that knocks the air from my lungs before Elijah finds my throat.
He groans as it closes around him, holding himself there for a moment with eyes squeezed tightly shut, teeth bared, before he eases back and allows oxygen to enter my lungs again.
"God,Angel. You're so good at that."
"Do it again," Atticus tells Elijah, and in my peripheral vision, I can see him touching himself, and it makes me insane.
Elijah is happy to oblige, pushing to the back of my throat a second time as Seven begins to fuck me.
I relax my throat, letting him push as far in as he can. With sex-drunk fingers, I find Atticus's hand and drag it to my throat, placing his fingers in a necklace around it.
He's careful at first, but he picks up on what I want him to do, and he does it.
Atticus gives my throat a gentle squeeze, and Elijah shudders at the added pressure as he gives several small, quick thrusts of his hips, fucking my throat.
I gasp when he pulls back with a curse on his lips.
"Are you okay, Angel?"
Instead of answering him, I twist my head the opposite way, swallowing the extra saliva down, reveling in the ache between my thighs that's growing andgrowingas Seven drops his hand to my slit, teasing sensations out of it that are fucking electric.
"A-Atticus." His name is a mumble that falls from my lips.
