Page 70 of Snowed In with Benefits

“Beg for it,” I whisper.

“I’m begging.” Her voice is stronger now. Something shifted when she said the words, like saying them made them real, like the sound of her own voice asking for what she wants gave her permission to want it even harder. “Please, Hunter. I want you all so much, please touch me, please, please fuck me.”

This is the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. I’m hard as hell, and I can tell that the other two are turned on by her wanton pleading too. Emmett’s breath catches, his big hands flexing at his sides like he’s fighting the urge to reach for her. Beau groans, low and rough, and shifts his weight forward. I like seeing them like this. Beau is more alive than he’s seemed since he got out of prison, his eyes bright and hungry, that guarded look he carries around like armor completely gone. Emmett isn’t locked inside himself the way he sometimes gets, he’s fully engaged in the moment, fully present, and the intensity rolling off him is almost visible. These are my brothers. I know them better than anyone. And I have never seen either of them look at a woman the way they’re looking at her right now.

I grin, refocusing my attention on Josie.

“I want you,” she says. “Please.”

I kiss her forehead gently. “You did so well,” I tell her. “So we’ll give you exactly what you need.”

The three of us move on her at once, and it’s not something we planned, not something we discussed. It’s instinct. It’s the same instinct that made all three of us stand up when she asked for more, the same current that runs between us when we’re working the property and one of us needs help without asking. We just know.

Beau nibbles on her ear while his hands pull her flannel off over her shoulders. Emmett kisses her hard, hooking his fingers over her rolled waistband and tugging it down over her ass. I wind my hand in her hair and pull gently, giving Beau deeper access to her neck, while my other hand slips under her t-shirt. She’s trembling under all six of our hands, not from fear but from the sheer overwhelmingness of being touched by three people who all want her at the same time. I can feel her pulse hammering under my palm where it rests against her ribs.

“Oh, you’re bad,” Beau groans. Her hand has brushed against the front of his jeans and he’s loving it. His hips twitch toward her touch and I catch the look on his face, that mix of surprise and pleasure, like he wasn’t expecting her to reach for him while the rest of us were taking her apart.

“Arms up,” Emmett growls, and pulls her t-shirt over her head when she complies. The cool air hits her skin and she shivers, goosebumps rising across her chest and stomach. Three pairs of eyes on her bare skin. She’s beautiful. She’s always been beautiful, but right now, flushed and panting and half-naked on our kitchen table, she’s something else entirely.

“Like this, sugarplum?” I whisper in her ear, and her little moan tells me everything. It tells me she’s ready. It tells me she wants this as badly as we do. It tells me that the good girl is gone and the woman who replaced her is hungry.

“We should move to the bedroom,” she gasps.

I laugh. “I don’t think that’s going to be necessary.”

Emmett moves aside, giving me center stage. I grab her thighs and pull her to the edge of the table. The dishes behind her rattle and something else slides off and hits the floor, but nobody looks. Nobody cares. The kitchen is already wrecked and we haven’t even started.

“Jesus, you’re so wet already,” I groan as I spread her legs. She’s soaked through her panties and the sight of it, knowing that our hands and our mouths and our words did that to her, makes my cock throb.

“I did that,” Beau claims like he’s calling dibs.

“Don’t think so,” Emmett snorts. He unhooks her bra and cups one of her breasts in his hand, his rough thumb dragging across her nipple. She makes a sound in her throat that drives me wild, a sound that’s somewhere between a whimper and a moan, a sound that says she’s losing control and she doesn’t care. I shove my pants down and release my cock, fully hard and ready for her. But I need that sound again. I need to hear how badly she wants me, wants this, wants all of us.

I pull her panties off, then tease her clit with the head of my cock and she shudders, moaning. I’m desperate to feel her around me, and with the way she’s wriggling, she’s just as desperate for me. She locks eyes with me, her warm brown eyes going dark with desire. She reaches for me and I start to push into her, then stop.

“Shit. No condom.”

She grabs my arm hard. “I don’t care,” she says. “I’m clean, I’m on birth control, just… please.”

Something about that lights me up from the inside. Not just the permission, but the desperation behind it. She doesn’t want anything between us. She wants to feel me, all of me, and the trust in that is staggering. “I’m clean, too,” I tell her, barely holding on to the last edge of my sanity. “So are they.”

Emmett and Beau both nod.

“Then what are you waiting for?” she pants.

Nothing. I’m not waiting for a goddamn thing. I press into her bare. Her throat opens and the sound she makes is so fucking perfect I can hardly restrain myself. The heat of her, the slick tightness, the way her body opens for me and then grips me like it never wants to let go. I thrust inside her, feeling her heat and wetness all around me, listening to her moan and whimper. She hooks one leg around my hip, pulling me deeper, and I groan against her neck.

Emmett and Beau have both dropped their pants. Emmett is stroking himself, watching me fuck her, his jaw tight, his eyes burning. Beau’s eyes are glued on her face, and he’s touching himself while he watches her come apart. There’s something about the three of us like this, all of us hard, all of us wanting her, two of us watching while one of us has her. It should feel competitive. It doesn’t. It feels like we’re all part of the same thing, all connected through her, all feeding off the same energy.

I want to stay here, just like this. Part of me wants to keep her all to myself, just right now, just this time. I want to feel her come around me and know that I’m the one who got her there. I want to be selfish. I want to be greedy. I want to be everything she was afraid of being when she asked for more.

But I don’t. Just as she’s nearing climax, I pull out of her. She gasps in shock and dismay and I wink at her, tagging Beau in. He doesn’t hesitate. He comes around and buries himself in her as she arches off the table, crying out in ecstasy. He fucks her the way he does everything. Deliberately, intensely, with laser focus. His hands grip her hips and his eyes never leave her face, reading every expression, adjusting his rhythm to match what she needs. Beau has his turn for a good long while, letting her come around him, and there’s a sting of something that isn’t jealousy but is more like envy. I want to be right there, right now. I want to be the one making her make those sounds. But watching him do it, watching the way her back arches and her mouth falls open and her hands scramble for something to hold onto, that’s its own kind of pleasure. A different kind. The kind that makes my chest tight and my cock ache.

Beau pulls out. Emmett goes in. He holds her thighs up against his belly, plunging into her as she cries out. He’s bigger than the rest of us, we just prepared her for him. She takes him with a gasp that turns into a groan, her body stretching to accommodate him, her fingers digging into the edge of the table. He fucks her hard and rough, but he’s just as wrecked by it as she is. His forehead drops against her and his breath comes in ragged bursts and I can see his arms shaking with the effort of holding back.

“Fuck, what are you doing to me?” he mutters.

I completely get it. I know the feeling. She does something to all of us, something none of us expected, something none of us were prepared for. I’m clenching my fist, fighting myself, wanting to be inside her once more, not willing to interrupt. Emmett catches my eye. He nods once then pulls out of her. She cries out again, this one tinged with the ache of loss, and I hurry to fill the gap.