Don’t get me wrong. There’s plenty of kisses and touches, even the occasional morning orgasm, but after a week of being here, we haven’t had sex once.
If it weren’t for how obviously obsessed they are, I’d start to think they don’t want me. But that would directly contradict the three hundred things they do a day to prove I’m theirs.
Despite the lack of sex, Asher has been making a point to train my ass. Usually, he has me wear a plug for a few hours a day, each time reminding me that I need to be prepared to take them both at once, a mental image that has been stored in the spank bank since the first time he mentioned it.
I huff out a sigh and drop my Kindle to the bed beside me.
I can’t remember ever being this sexually frustrated in my life.
I know better than to touch myself without permission, but my poor pussy is aching, and I don’t know if we’re at the stage where I can ask for what I need.
The relationship Asher and I had a week ago feels vastly different from the one we have now, and that’s just another thing I’m not sure how to tackle.
“You okay, sweetheart?” Rowan asks from over the top of his laptop.
He’s still working despite it being almost midnight, but he makes a point to come to the bedroom at the same time I do each night.
Just another thoughtful thing they’re doing that I’m apparently ungrateful for because all I want is to be fucked.
Asher is out at a fight night. He wanted me to go with him, but that was very quickly shut down by Rowan, even after I begged because I really need to get out of this house.
“I’m horny,” I blurt out, immediately covering my face with both hands.
Oh my god.
Did I really just say that out loud?
A deep chuckle meets my ears, and when I peek out from between my fingers, his amused smirk is staring back at me.
“Have we not been taking care of you, Hannah?” he rumbles.
I shake my head slowly, dropping my arms around my waist.
If I knew I was going to word vomit what I need, I would have put on something nicer than one of Asher’s old college shirts.
“Come here.”
I’m off the edge of the bed before he can finish his command, earning me a rough chuckle.
“On your knees, Hannah.”
As gracefully as I can manage, I sink to my knees, remaining in place beside the bed while I wait for further instructions.
He uses a single finger to beckon me toward him, and I waste no time before crawling across the room to him, the carpet soft beneath me.
“So pretty crawling for me,” he murmurs. He closes his forgotten laptop, his eyes drinking me in.
There’s something about being wanted by a man like Rowan Cane that has my pussy clenching with need.
Fuck.
I need this so badly.
I pause between his spread thighs, carefully positioning myself with my hands resting on my knees and my back perfectly arched.
A rough groan rattles through his chest.
“You’re so perfect for us,” he praises, brushing his fingers down my cheek. “So fucking beautiful.”
