There’s no hiding the raw, halfway wounded sound he makes as he comes. I can barely make out the curse he spits into her red, abused mouth, because it’s just as gnarled as his breaths. Story writhes between us, making a sound that’s all at once satisfied and frustrated, and I can take a guess why.
“Is he filling you up, sweetheart?” I press the question into her temple so I can feel her restless nod. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get what you need.” It takes Killian a long moment to peel himself away, red-faced and huffing as he captures her mouth, drawing out the vestiges of that connection that’s still got him gooey-eyed and uncomfortably soft.
When he finally does, it’s possible he collapses on the couch beside us, but I’m too busy burying two fingers in her cunt to notice. “Fuck, I can feel him in there. So wet. You want to see?”
She looks absolutely wrecked, pupils blown wide, flushed, chest heaving.
When she nods, I doubt she even knows what she’s agreeing to. But when I slip my fingers out of her pussy, pressing them to her lips, she takes them in, tasting what she and Killian are like together. It’s one of the best things about Story—how nasty she’s willing to get. She probably doesn’t even mean to bat her eyelashes at me, watching me with glazed, heavy eyes as I feed her the mingled taste of their obsessions for one another.
I have to know.
Grabbing her chin, I wrench her face to mine, licking into the crease of her lips. They’re sweet and bitter, her slick tongue pushing the taste into my mouth. Whatever threads of control I’ve had are rapidly breaking, and the whine she makes into my mouth isn’t helping.
Her answer when I ask, “You need some more?” demolishes it entirely.
“Please,” she whimpers, guiding my hand back to her center.
It’s only then that I notice Killian really has collapsed beside us, and only because I’m lifting her, turning to pour her into his lap this time. It feels right, arranging her there against his chest, pushing her knees to straddle him, watching as he just…takes her, folding her into him.
Frantically, I unbutton my pants and shove them down, getting my aching dick out. She looks tired and strung out as she rests her cheek on his shoulder, but when I grab her hips, hiking her ass up, she’s quick to comply, weak legs struggling to get her knees underneath her.
The noise she makes when I thrust into her is a gasp of surprise, followed by a mewl of approval.
“Hold her,” I tell Killian, who lazily pushes his fingers into her hair and cradles her against his body. I fuck her, hips pounding hard into her ass. It’s just as tight as Killian said. Only her pussy is fucking sloppy wet now, filled with his come. She reaches back to touch me, her fingertips skating over my thigh as I hammer into her. This isn’t like it was with Killian. I don’t need to be taught when to be gentle and accommodating. I fuck her hard and fast, yanking her hips into mine with every thrust, and all she can do is hang on to Killer and ride it out, burying her sharp cries into his neck. When I glance at the mirror over the drink cart, I see a man possessed, still clothed, strung tight and ready to snap.
“Damn, Tris,” Killian mutters, watching as he idly strokes his fingertips through her hair. “Look like you’re about to detonate. Should jack off more.”
I huff, already so close I can feel my balls start to tingle. “Get her off,” I grind out. “Now.”
Killian reaches between them to do just that, and whatever he’s doing with her clit is making her clench up around me, a rhythmic pulse that just drives me faster and harder.
“Don’t stop,” she’s saying, abandoning Killian’s arm to clutch at the back of the couch.
It takes everything in me to wait until she finally seizes, shoulders jerking with a delicate shudder as she comes apart around me. When she does, Killer speaks, his words hazy and indistinct, obscured by the rush of blood in my ears.
“Come on, Tris. Make her yours.”
I let go, slamming hard into her pussy. For a white-hot second, that’s all I can think about—adding my release to Killian’s inside her, cock pumping her full, making her pussy mine.
Making it ours.
“How’s that feel, little sister?” Killian is saying, holding her by the hips. “Having us both inside? Knowing you’re ours?”
“Full,” she answers, panting. “Feel so full.”
She drops her head to Killian’s shoulder and his eyes meet mine. The moment is uniquely intimate—the two of us claiming her, filling her up, making her fall apart. We’ve always been brothers, we’ve always shared, but it’s never been like this, and at the same time the warmth spreading across my chest tells me it was always going to lead to this.