Into Their Woods (The Eerie, #1)(106)

He growls when I try to take control, nipping each of my lips in rebuke. But I ignore the censure, because Gannon and I seem to thrive on challenging one another. I simply tighten my grip and shove his face exactly where I want it.

I buck and grind against him, planting my feet on the back of the couch, arching my back into bridge pose as I steal control, wresting my orgasm away from him and claiming it as my own.

His teeth are sharper this time when he nips me, but little does he know, I like it rough. The tiny edge of pain only makes me grit my teeth and erupt into an encouraging mewl before twisting and wrenching his hair as pleasure overtakes me.

When my shaking has subsided and I’ve loosened my death grip, he pulls back and mumbles, “The kitten has claws. My turn,” he challenges, and then he grabs my ass and picks me up like I weigh less than the throw pillow in the corner of the sofa. He scoops me up so that we’re face to face and carries me around the couch, this time laying me down normally—lengthwise—down the seat. He crawls on top of me, kissing me mercilessly.

“Taste how wet I’ve made you?”

I can only murmur in response because his lips and tongue become so all-consuming. When he roughly wrenches away from me and sits up, I fully expect him to undress and demand that it’s my turn to blow him until he comes.

And, yes, please.

But he doesn’t. Gannon scoots back down the couch and dives for my pussy again like he’s starving. Like he can’t get enough. He scoops my hips into his iron grip, and this time, he’s rougher in all the best ways. Immediately, his mouth suctions so tightly against my pussy that I’m gasping—close to the edge.

As soon as I start to buck this time, he backs off.

“Asshole,” I seethe in mock fury.

“What’s that? Need a finger in that ass? I’ve got my emotional thermometer ready,” he says, wiggling his finger at me.

I flip him off, glaring, and he chuckles as he leans back down and laps at me, drawing it out. This time, when I lose control, Gannon drives a thick, long finger into me.

It slides in easily, wet as I am, and rubs deliciously inside of me as he once again sucks my clit into his mouth.

There.

I go limp in appreciation as a spiraling, sparking need starts to tingle through me.

“Fuck, you feel good,” I moan, and Gannon groans his approval, the other noises he’s making between my thighs deliciously lewd.

He slips another finger inside of me, and I close my eyes, savoring the feel of him. His languid pumps grow faster and faster, his mouth matching the tempo. I gasp and moan my encouragement. When I open my eyes, they land on an intense amber gaze—and I freeze.

Holy shit. When did Perth get home?

He stands there, snowflakes in his red hair, rivulets of melting snow running down his naked torso, watching us.

And fuck me, he’s hard.

Gannon notices me stiffen and glances up, but just for a second. Unbothered, he immediately goes back to licking my pussy as if Perth’s entrance isn’t a big deal.

“Help her out of that shirt and suck those tits,” Gannon mindspeaks.

Perth bites his lip and stares at Gannon feasting between my folds. His eyes drift up my body, hunger blazing in his amber gaze, but he doesn’t move.

When Gannon curls his fingers inside of me, I have no choice but to whimper and grovel with need.

“That’s right, kitten. I want you to cum all over my face while you scream my name. Can you do that for me? Are you ready?” Gannon speaks inside my head.

Before I can answer, a third finger joins the other two, tightening the fit and amping up the pressure and friction. I glimpse Perth’s expression of raw, unfettered desire. Lips parted, his eyes lock on mine as he watches me writhe in pleasure.

I reach for him, suddenly needing more and completely unashamed to ask for it.

Without hesitation, Perth walks toward me, his dick jutting straight up. I suddenly want him in my mouth, his cock deep in my throat while Gannon fingers and eats me into another plane of existence.

Both Perth and Gannon groan, and I’m pretty sure I just broadcast that little fantasy loud and clear.

Good.

“You need us both, Noah?” Perth asks huskily as he closes the distance. He perches on the seat of the couch behind me.

“Yes,” I gasp when he leans closer, his torso just above my head.

“You look beautiful on your back with my brother between your thighs,” he croons at me, big hands reaching for the hem of my shirt. He starts to slowly pull it up. The soft fabric drags against my hard nipples in an agonizing, torturous tease.

When I’m free of the shirt, Perth tosses it aside and reaches down to cup my breasts. His hands still carry a tiny bite of cold from outside, and the chill plays lusciously with the heat swimming through me. He kneads and cups, pressing my tits together and then releasing them before his fingertips pinch and pluck my nipples.

As he plays, he sends a mental image of me sprawled naked on the couch in the firelight with the two of them playing me like a fine-tuned instrument.

Another round of shudders make me buck.

“Hold her,” Gannon orders. “She’s got more orgasms left. And I want all of them.”

One of Perth’s hands slides from my breasts to my ribcage, helping pin me. As he leans over my body, he goads, “Need us to tame that wild wolf, Noah?”