Page 145 of I Will Revel in Glory (Death by Daybreak MC 3)
The sound of him removing his belt and unbuckling his jeans makes me squirm.
I lift my eyes up, flicking my attention to the side and finding Grainger’s hungry gaze on me. He watches my face as Beast slides a finger down my slippery folds, teasing me as I huff out a breath. I’m still wearing his jacket, too. That must account for something.
Beast pushes a single finger into me, and I gasp. Holy shit, that’s tight. Why am I so damn tight tonight? Must be because my leather pants are creating a cage around my legs. There’s no give there. I’m stuck with my thighs pressed more or less together.
He works that single finger in and out, the slick sound of my flesh echoing in the suddenly quiet room. There’s the fire’s heated breath battering against the glass of the decorative screen. There’s the sound of the whiskey burbling as Grainger lifts it to his wicked mouth, his eyes still locked on mine.
I keep watching him as Beast inserts a second finger, and a moan escapes my lips. I should probably shower some of this blood off before fucking, but … I’m not going to. I don’t want to wait. Besides, what did Giulia say? She and Cosimo liked to … well, if she can get off on horrible things, so can I.
I did it, Posey. I got them for you. I got them.
If vengeance is wrong, then why does it taste so damn sweet? Why does it make me want more? I’ve done a good thing tonight. Two people who wrought nothing but destruction and pain in their wake are gone; they can’t hurt anyone else.
Tell me that’s a sin. I’ll wait.
My hands curl against the rounded arm of the couch as Beast works me up enough that I’m sweaty and hot and pulsing around his fingers. The motorcycle boots I’m wearing give me some extra height, but I bet Beast could fuck my feet right off the floor when he drives into me …
When he removes his hand, I let out a small sound of frustration that’s very quickly replaced with a gasp as the head of his huge cock presses against my entrance. It’s hard to believe he’s ever fit inside of me, let alone that first night. The third guy, the third time, that I ever had sex, and I was able to take him.
Like a screwed-up, carnal version of fate.
My husband presses himself against me, parting my wet folds and stretching my tight channel with a slow forward movement of his hips. My breath comes in harsh, desperate pants, but I never look away from Cade Grainger.
We stare at each other, and he ends up frozen with the bottle halfway to his lips. Sin is just behind him, still leaning against the wall. I’m not really looking at him, but I can feel the tension in him, the anger. I want it. I want it unleashed on me.
And Crown?
He moves closer, like he’s being drawn to us, sitting down on the coffee table, close enough to touch.
Beast buries himself balls-deep, nearly hitting the end of me, and I bite my lip hard enough to make it bleed. My husband has a big cock, no doubts about that. For a moment, he just places his warm hands on my ass and waits for me to adjust to his girth, his length.
And then he starts to fuck. Nice and slow, all the way in and all the way out. Just as I predicted, when he slams into me, his pelvis against my ass, my feet nearly come up off the ground. I’m off-balance, draped over the sofa arm, still staring at Cade motherfucking Grainger.
Without taking a drink, he finally drops the liquor bottle by his side.
“Fuck,” he says again, and then he passes it over to Sin. Unlike Cade, my youngest lover lifts the bottle up and drinks several shots worth in one go, the inked column of his throat moving as he swallows. Grainger uses his now free hands to open his jeans, taking a seat in the leather chair nearest him so that he can spit into his palm and then fist his cock with a tight grip.
He starts to jack himself off while my husband stretches me wide, sliding in and out of my eager body with little resistance. I warm up to him quickly, sounds of sinful pleasure tumbling past my lips as I arch my back to encourage Beast to move deeper, harder, faster.
Crown stays where he is, completely still, watching from his spot on the coffee table. There’s a glint in his gaze that says he wants to punish me later for my antics tonight—both carnal and violent—but also that maybe he doesn’t hate this as much as he thought he would.
