Page 113 of Sexting My Best Friend's Brothers
“Focus,” I command. “Stay with us.”
“It’s a lot,” she gasps. “I can’t… I don’t know where to look.”
“Look at me,” I say. “Then look at Owen. Then look at Asher. You take it all.”
I look at Asher. He’s staring at the damp scrap of white cotton covering her swollen pussy like he wants to tear it apart with his bare hands.
“Asher,” I say.
He looks up at me. His eyes are feral.
“Take it off,” I tell him. “Show her we’re not here to play.”
20
TESSA
“Take it off,” Ethan tells him. “Show her we’re not here to play.”
The command hangs in the stifling heat of the bedroom for a fraction of a second.
Then, Asher moves.
He slides between my spread legs, pushing Ethan’s knee aside to make space. His eyes lock onto my crotch, dilated and dark, burning with a focus that makes my breath hitch.
He grips my hips, his long fingers digging into my skin, anchoring me to the mattress. He buries his face against the white cotton of my panties.
I scream.
It’s a raw, shocked sound that rips from my throat. The heat of his breath through the fabric is scalding.
He grips the waistband, sliding the cotton down my legs with ruthless efficiency. He tosses the garment to the floor without looking.
Then his tongue is on my clit.
My head falls back against the headboard with a thud.
I’m writhing, trapped between the three of them, besieged on all sides. There’s no room to think. There’s no room to breathe.
The air in the room is heavy with the scent of musk, sweat, and sex.
Asher is relentless. He eats me like I’m his last meal, his tongue broad and flat, lapping hard against my swollen clit. He spreads my pussy lips wider, his thumbs pressing into my inner thighs, exposing my dripping cunt completely to the air and his hunger.
He’s devouring me.
“Ethan!” I cry out, grabbing his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin.
“I’ve got you,” Ethan growls. He leans over me, biting my neck, his hands pinning my wrists to the mattress above my head. His weight presses me down, holding me still for his brother’s mouth.
Owen kneels right beside the mattress. He leans over my chest, his hands cupping my breasts, his thumbs pinching my bare nipples into hard, painful peaks.
“Look at her,” Owen murmurs, sounding wrecked. “She’s so wet. She’s soaking him.”
“She’s perfect,” Ethan agrees.
I’m drowning in sensation. The heat of Asher’s mouth, the crushing weight of Ethan’s body, the friction of Owen’s hands. It’s too much and not enough.
“Please,” I beg, my hips bucking off the mattress, chasing Asher’s tongue. “Please, I need…”
