Page 35 of Altered By Lead (Undercover Sinners 2)
He starts moving again while he speaks, and this time, when he fucks me, I'm so fucking full, I instantly come. It's similar to when he and Colt double-teamed my pussy, but different. More.
I'm addicted, and can't fucking wait to get two of my guys into bed together again.
That thought sends my mind back to that moment in the hospital, when Colt and Weston were both inside my pussy, their hard shafts rubbing against one another …
The thought tries to skip away from me as I crash through another screaming orgasm, but I snatch it back, grabbing on and holding it tight until my climax subsides.
"Weston," I pant, arching my neck to look at him. "I want to try something."
"Huh?" he replies, looking dazed with sweat running down his forehead.
"I want to try something," I repeat, wiggling out from under him and rolling onto my back. It's a crazy strange sensation, moving around with that massive plug in my ass, but I'd be lying if I said I didn’t like it.
"What are you doing?" he asks, looking all dazed and sexed up and high as fuck. "Aw, you don't like that?" He’s eyeing the sparkly purple butt plug as I pull it slowly from my ass, moaning all the while.
"I fucking love it," I reply with total honesty, "but I want to use it on you."
He blinks at me. Then laughs. Then frowns. Then shrugs.
"Fuck it, why not."
Weston nudges me out of the way and takes up a position on all fours in the middle of the bed. Logically, I know it's the drugs loosening up his inhibitions, but also, I'm pretty sure he'd let Colt fuck him if given the chance.
"Awesome," I giggle, hunting around for the bottle of lube and squeezing a generous amount on the plug. Then an equally generous amount on Weston's asshole. I figure, no such thing as too much lube when it comes to anal play, right?
Who the hell knows, I'm new to this. But hopefully I'll be a quick study because I'm practically gushing at the thought of taking all five team members at once.
"Have you ever let someone screw your ass before, Weston?" I ask, massaging the lube into his flesh and teasing him with the tip of my finger. Thank fuck I've taken to keeping my nails short, or that wouldn't be anywhere near as fun for him.
His breath hitches as I wiggle a finger inside. "No," he breathes. "Never."
"But you've thought about it," I say with total certainty.
Weston starts to protest, but his words cut off when I start pushing the plug into him. "Holy fuck," he exclaims at some point, and I grin. I know exactly what he means. "Holy shit, Natalia …" he trails off into mumbled incoherent noises, but his fists ball in the sheets and his hips hitch higher, encouraging me to keep going.
"Do you love it?" I ask him, breathless and panting with excitement myself when the toy is fully inserted. Just the flared end is left out—no one wants to go finishing around for lost toys—but I can't stop staring. Staring and imagining it was someone's cock instead.
Weston makes a strangled sound, but nods into the pillows.
"I knew it," I whisper, feeling all kinds of satisfied.
"I’m rolling over,” he says suddenly, voice strained with need, but also underwritten with a thread of dominance. “You’re going to suck my cock."
I don’t need to be told twice; Weston shifts onto his back and groans as the plug rubs him in all the right places. His pierced cock is already slick and salty with pre-cum when I take him in my mouth, and within seconds he's coming with a roaring scream while I swallow greedily.
When he's finally done, and his fingers release my hair, I sit back with a smug grin, licking my lips.
"Tastes like victory," I tease him, wiping a stray droplet from my cheek.
Weston's eyes narrow. "I'll fucking show you victory, gorgeous." He pounces at me, rolling me over and spreading my legs around his face. "We've got all night."
He doesn't take the plug out of his ass until we're both boneless heaps, smoking a stolen joint from Colt's room.Chapter 8NataliaThe sharp sound of Hawke's coffee mug slamming down on the kitchen table makes me flinch, and I rub at my temples. He's been in rare form all morning, and he’s officially on my last nerve.
"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" I snap at him, channelling all my hungover foul mood into my glare. "Anywhere but here, perhaps?"
Arsen lets out a low whistle, sliding a plate of pancakes in front of me. "Careful, angel, attitude like that could earn you a spanking from bossman."
No one is spared my hangover. "What do you care?" I snarl up at him, which isn't hard given how he leans over my chair. He's wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts and a frilly apron, his demon wing tattoos on full display, but he's firmly on my shit list for denying me so many orgasms lately. I didn't notice how badly I'd needed that release until Weston had given it to me. Over and over and over until I quite literally passed out.
