Page 81 of Filthy Rich Ex's Brothers

Keep her here, like this, something all to myself.

Maybe here, with Ryan, I’ve found the bridge between those two instincts. He and I can enjoy her together, revel in her beauty, share our appreciation without it being a territorial thing.

“Oh—oh!” Serena cries, back arching, legs tightening around Ryan’s face. He stands, swiping his hand roughly over his mouth, and I move around to the spot he just occupied, finding her pussy warm and loose for me, worked through by his tongue.

When I slide inside her, I feel her body reacting to the pressure, her pussy tightening in around me. I grip her hips, pump with abandon, letting the want take over. Everything else in my life is about control, but with Serena, I can let go of that, let myself justactandbewithout thinking so goddamned much.

“Here,” Ryan is saying, climbing onto the bed, lifting Serena’s shoulders. I slip out of her, and she blinks dazedly, following Ryan’s lead as he settles her back down over his hips, facing me. Then, I watch as he probes for a moment before sliding his condom-covered cock inside her ass.

Serena moans loudly, and I have to grip the bedpost. Ryan’s eyes fly to mine as he tugs her down, so her back is against his chest.Fucking hell, she’s flexible. And now her pussy is wide open for me.

“Is that good?” Ryan asks, his mouth against her ear as he moves gently, sliding in and out of her with the ease of someone who has done this before.

“Y-yes,” she says, shakily, eyes heavy-lidded, hands on Ryan’s thighs.

“Do you want Travis to fuck you, too?” he asks, and my cock twitches, gaze traveling over the soft insides of her thighs, her pink clit.

Serena lets out a desperate noise, and I’m already stepping back toward her, lining my cock up at her entrance again before she says, “Yes.”

This time, she’s even tighter, and I grunt, hands on her hips, words coming out tight and hard: “Tell me if you need me to slow down.”

And with that, Ilet go. Fuck her hard, fast, thinking about nothing but the pleasure, my rock hard cock inside her and how fuckingtightshe is around me. The room fills with the sounds of her cries and moans. Ryan barely has to move, with how hard I pump into her, and I see through hazy vision that he reaches up, palming her breasts, before his right hand travels down to her clit, applying just enough pressure that she jerks between us.

“Fuck,baby, hold on,” I demand, my orgasm just on the horizon, dragged closer by how fuckingtightshe is.

And I never knew it could be this good.

When I fucked Serena at the beginning, I thought it was the best I ever had. It was new, and she was so special. And I know those times will always linger in my mind.

Butthis? Seeing how good we can make her feel,together?

I’m never going to stop wanting this.

When I come, it’s long, drawn out, and I leak out of her, all over the bed and Ryan, but he doesn’t care because he’s coming too. We’re a tired, limp pile of bodies, and we stay that way for a while before I finally get control of myself again.

I go to the bathroom, clean myself off, and bring back a warm cloth for Serena.

“If you want,” Ryan yawns, head lolling back into his pillow, “you’re welcome to stay, man.”

The thought of sharing the bed with Serena is tempting, but I’m wide awake, wired, while the two of them are already drifting off. So I just shake my head, drop a kiss on her temple, pull on my pants, and slip back out into the hallway.

Chapter 44

Graham

Iwake up at some point in the night, headache gone but a different ache having taken its place. For a brief, flickering moment, I think about going to Serena’s room, but either Travis, Ryan, or both are in there at the moment, and I have no interest in climbing into bed alongside them.

So, instead of seeking out comfort in the form of another body—herbody, her hands, her warm lips and soft voice—I head down to the den and find a nice whiskey to take the edge off.

The den is dark and quiet. In fact, the entire house is.

I meant what I said to Serena about traveling. I prefer to be alone. It’s not that I don’t enjoy being around other people—of course I do. But I enjoy it in smaller amounts than others, I think.

By the time we turned in for the night, I was more than ready for some space to myself. Serena’s friends are charming and interesting—like many of the people I’ve met in my travels. But charming and interesting don’t seem to stop me from hitting my social capacity.

In fact, the only person I’ve spent a significant amount of time around, without feeling spent, is Serena. When I’m with her, I feel alone. Maybe to another person, that would soundlike a nightmare. But to me, being alone is when I’m most comfortable. It’s almost magical to be able to include her in that.

As I mull over the night, Serena’s friends, and my relationship with Serena herself, I move throughout the den, tidying up the space. Although it’s late August, there’s a whistle of cool air, a gentle, steady drizzle outside the windows. I examine the fireplace, find it’s gas-operated, and start it up, waiting for the satisfyingwhooshof heat before finding a drink.