Home > Books > Lords of Mercy (The Royals of Forsyth University #3)(92)

Lords of Mercy (The Royals of Forsyth University #3)(92)

Author:Angel Lawson & Samantha Rue

Rath watches her with parted lips, his wet hair hanging in his eyes as he flexes his hips. Story takes the tip between her lips, and looks up, holding his gaze as she sinks down.

“Fuck,” Rath sighs, shoulders going slack. He touches the part of her cheek that hollows with a suck, but it’s weirdly tender—a brush of his knuckles against the flushed skin. “Your mouth’s so fucking good, baby.”

She hums and it looks indulgent, the way she slowly slides away, a thin string of spit following her retreat.

I fist myself, stroking my dick through the ache of want that’s got it pulsating so hard and ready when she finally appears between my legs.

“And you,” she whispers, raking her lip through her teeth as she watches my hand squeeze the shaft. “It’s so thick that sometimes it hurts, and I think…” She glances up at me, quick and reluctant. “I think I kind of like that part of it. But the best part, by far?” My body stiffens as she leans in. The warmth of her breath against the tip is enough to make my toes curl, but then she drags the slick point of her tongue over it, eyes sliding closed. “You taste the best.”

“Yeah?” My voice feels like it’s dropped three octaves as I run the head of my cock over her tongue. “You like my cum, little sister?”

She answers by taking me into her mouth—just the tip—and humming. I catch a peek of her tongue as it swirls around, like she’s trying to catch the taste. I lean back, groaning at the heat of her mouth, and rest on my palms to watch. Rath and Tristian are ramping up, too, their dicks in their hands.

Fuck.

How long have I wanted this, craving the sight of her head in my lap? How many nights, mornings, afternoons have I spent with my fist around my cock, imagining what it’d be like to have her sucking me like this? All those nights back home, sneaking into her bedroom and running my cock over her mouth, don’t compare. That day down in the basement, making her suck me as punishment as the whole frat watched…

I wish I could just fucking erase it.

This is what her first real, coherent taste of me should have been. Her slick lips gliding down my shaft, hands so soft and insistent as they touch me. I’m fucking drowning in the heat and suction, and I know when my dick starts surging with precum, because she chases it greedily as she takes the flavor onto her tongue.

Tris slides over, cupping a palm against the back of her head. “Come on, sweetheart. Show your big brother how deep you can take it.” He pushes her down, but I can feel that he doesn’t need to, that she’s driving it into the back of her throat under her own will, fingertips pressing divots into my thighs.

Suddenly, the air feels too thick, too hot. I’m gulping it down and shaking with the effort it takes not to just…grab her face and fuck the absolute shit out of it. How the hell do Tristian and Rath handle this? How do they keep from fucking it up and losing it?

Tristian looks at me, saying, “Do it,” and I laugh. It’s a ragged, broken sound, because these three people know me too well. “Fuck her throat, Killer,” he insists, and behind his words, a moan emerges around the head of my cock.

She drags herself off my cock, sucking in a series of wet, deep breaths, before staring up at me. “I can take it.”

Her jaw is loose beneath my thumbs when I cradle her skull, guiding her back onto my cock. The Molly must still be pumping through my veins a little bit, because when I buck forward, cock hitting the back of her throat, something thunder-like erupts in my chest. I wrap her hair around my fist and thrust, bringing her down as I drive forward. For a short moment, it’s mindless, animalistic, brutal as I pummel her throat, because that’s the reality. I can’t control myself. I never could—not when it comes to her. But at the same time, I know.

I know my brothers will stop me if I go too far.

It’s what allows me to really let go, to hold her head in my wide palms and growl as I fuck into her mouth. She’s making these sloppy sounds, deep in her throat, almost identical to the water slapping against the walls of the tub.

Tristian is the one to ease me off, thumbing a tear track from her cheek when I free her. “That’s my girl.” His encouragement propels her to suck and lick my head, sending shivers down my spine. Tristian strokes his cock slowly, not in any rush as he looks up at Rath, “Come over here and touch her tits. Keep her warm.”

Rath stands, water sloshing around the edges of the tub, but when he moves behind her, the first thing he does is start peeling that white shirt up her body. He tugs her away from me, shushing her when she makes a plaintive noise. “Just real quick, baby.” True to his word, he gets the shirt over her head and lets her go at my cock again.

 92/220   Home Previous 90 91 92 93 94 95 Next End