Page 73 of Filthy Rich Ex's Brothers

With each thrust, she whines, moans, lets out notes of pleasure that I want to bottle and keep forever.

Her first orgasm builds slowly, unfurls the same way, so I wouldn’t notice it except for how tight her pussy gets around me, how her nails dig into the flesh of my shoulders. Maybe Ryan doesn’t notice, or maybe he just wants to fuck her through it, because he continues on, pumping his hips until she starts to orgasm again, her cries echoing out into the night around us.

This time, when her pussy closes in tight around me, I can’t help it—I come,hard. I empty myself inside her as Ryan does the same, our bodies jerking and writhing together.

When we disentangle, Serena has a sleepy, happy smile on her beautiful face.

“Good?” Ryan asks her, and she nods back, murmuring, “Good.”

For a long time, we lay together, breathing in the sweet, lemon-scented air. Finally, Ryan says we should probably get back inside.

So I scoop Serena up in my arms, carry her inside to my room, clean her up, and tuck her into bed beside me. I couldtotally get used to having her with me, her body curling into mine, her soft breath warm over my chest, my entire room filling with the scent of grass, lemons, and rosewater.

I wake to the smell of bacon and coffee, and decide that Ryan is good for more than one thing. My mind returns to the sounds of Serena moaning last night, and I think that if she’s going to react like that to the two of us, I don’t mind working together with Ryan to get it done.

When I stumble out toward the dining table on the terrace, Serena and Travis are already seated. Serena looks, as always, incredible. Her curls are loose around her shoulders, and she’s wearing a silk two-piece sleep set, a pink spaghetti-strap tank and little shorts that ride up her legs.

I could sink my teeth into the soft skin on the inside of her thighs, and I plan to when I get the chance.

“Oh, good, you’re up,” Ryan says, bustling through the other door—the one that comes from the kitchen—with plates, sliding them onto the table and shooting me a conspiratorial grin. “I was going to send Serena to wake you up…”

Serena blushes, and I glance at Travis, but he’s staring down at his phone. We’d agreed to sharing her, but does that includethis? Ryan and me with her, at once? Might feel like shit for Travis, if he finds out he’s being excluded.

Not that I’m interested in Travis being there—Jesus Christ. The thought of doing that with my brother makes my stomach turn.

But, I realize, watching Ryan as he sits down next to Travis and starts in on his food, it’s possible that Ryan and Travis did alittle tag-teaming of their own. Which I would be more than fine with.

After last night, telling Serena about my mom’s birthday, I felt closer to her. Wanted more with her. More than just sex.

We’ll have to talk about it. But right now, I’m fucking exhausted from the midnight stroll and subsequent dreams about Serena’s hips and thighs, her ass and tits. Fucking hell, I barely slept at all.

“So,” Travis says, dropping his phone and reaching for his plate. “Everything is taken care of.”

I pause in pouring maple syrup over my French toast and stare at my brother.

“Taken care of?” Maybe it’s too skeptical, but I grew up watching our father dismantle entire empires with his ruthless strategies. Businesses went under, people lost their families and homes, and some were never heard from again, though he vehemently denied he had anything to do with that.

“Probably decided to eat the end of a barrel,”I heard him say, once, to an associate who asked about it. “When he realized his life was worth less than nothing.”

And that’s not even close to the most cut-throat thing I’d heard my father rattle off, sounding like he couldn’t care less.

“Yes.” Travis pauses, takes a sip of his Americano, then nods in appreciation to Ryan, who beams like a golden retriever. “The PR team has been working morning and night, and they’ve got every publication worth anything on lock. We have bribes and security in place. And, most of the information that we’ve gathered from the PIs is that Alex doesn’t exactly have access to the funds to be pulling any of this off in the first place. He got that first story pushed through a connection, but they pulled back at the first whiff of an offer from us.”

“…so Priscilla isn’t giving him access to Stephen’s funds?” I have to admit, I’m impressed that the little socialite has the nutsto say no to her son. I’d have expected him to have been pulling from that money this entire time.

“Apparently not,” Travis says.

“So…” Serena shifts beside me, and the smell of roses drifts up from her body. Is that her perfume? Or shampoo? “What does that mean?”

“It means…” Travis pauses, lifts his brow, and looks around at all of us. “We can return to the city without worrying about what Alex might do. If we want to.”

A heavy silence falls over the table, and my right eye twitches.

It’s an unspoken acknowledgment that this unique arrangement bloomed under perfect conditions. There’s nothing more romantic than the Italian countryside. Nothing more private than this big house with its gated grounds.

What happens to this foursome when we drag it back to the city? Smother it with too many commitments and ask it to continue on, with everyone’s eyes on it?

Of course, money like ours can find a certain level of privacy anywhere. But we would be asking Serena to change everything about her life.