My 22nd birthday.
Banks says, “Now we have a deadline to catch this fuckbag.”
February 4th. More than a month away.
Akara nods, “We can do it.”
Banks nods back, confidence flowing and rising up in the kitchen. I breathe that certainty in like the sweetest, most extraordinary perfume.
Bathe me in it.
Yes, fucking please.
With a racing pulse, I unzip the side of my jumpsuit. The fabric slips down my body and pools at my bare feet. Bra and cotton panties only, their desire touches every inch of my tingling flesh.
And then they look to each other. I hope they’re thinking, let’s fuck her.
I consume the moment with thirst and greed. Who’s coming for me?
Banks breaks from the counters, his stride so long—he only needs to take one step before pushing up against me, our legs interlacing. His chest presses up against my body.
Oh my fucking God. His large hand sheathes my cheek while his other palm clasps my ass, his fingers slipping beneath my cotton panties. I’m drowning in his hungered gaze and the roughness of his hand enveloping my jaw and cheek.
Like a cannon blast, he swiftly dips his head and kisses the holy fuck out of me. Our tongues meld, my head dizzies, and my palms journey over the planes of his muscles. His movements are fast and ravenous like mine, but I’m not the experienced one guiding us to the ascent. I’m second on the rope, the one keeping up with his route.
I like it that way.
Lips stinging, Banks lifts my butt onto the kitchen island. He pulls until my ass is on the edge. Legs spread around his waist, he pushes forward in a deeper kiss, and I whimper against his mouth.
“Christ.” He lets out a rough, husky sound of pleasure, and then he pushes my back flat against the cold counter. “Want her here?”
“Yep.”
Holy fuck, that was Akara.
I’m doubling-down on the fact that their communication is hot. Times infinity when it’s about me.
“Fuck,” I breathe, watching Akara saunter to the other side of the island near my head. I actually dip my head backwards over the edge, staring at his bulge upside-down.
His lip rises, seduction in his eyes. He’s the smooth operator.
Banks is the rough handler.
I love them both absolutely, totally, unequivocally.
His two palms slide down my cheeks, tingles shooting in every nerve-ending. His fingers slip to the back of my skull. He lowers his head, and my heart double-beats. His lips meld against mine in a sensual, leg-shaking, upside-down kiss, and at the same time Akara makes out with me, Banks tears off my panties.
Their movements become fast and ravenous, and I’m loving this speed.
Akara lifts up my shoulder blades and snaps off my bra. He slips the straps off my arms, and his mouth travels against the nape of my neck, then up the curve of my soft breast. His destination is my perked nipple where he sucks and nips and kisses. Electricity zips through me.
Banks’ hands chart a course down my thighs, teasing towards my pussy.
I pulse and writhe. “Banks,” I rasp, wanting him to enter me. I look up at Akara. “Kits, tell him.”
They’re both smiling and kissing different, tender places of my body.
“Tell him what?” Akara whispers against my nipple. His warm breath tickles the sensitive bud, and I grow wetter.
To Banks, I say, “Come inside me. Not cum come. Don’t shoot a load without a condom—just…put your cock in me.” God, I’m so fucking ineloquent, but my choice of words didn’t kill the mood. It did the opposite.
Their eyes and hands and lips hunger more for me, brushing against my flesh and tormenting my need. My playlist switches to the song “Who Do You Love” by All Saints, and heat builds tenfold. I’ve always thought the lyrics are about choosing between two men, and I drown into these feelings, the music, and I want to shout, when the ship goes down, I choose both of them.
“Okay?” I ask them as I reach behind me to grab Akara’s waist.
He takes my wrists in his hands, not letting me. “We’ll take your demand under consideration.” His voice is so fucking sexy.
Akara smiles like he can see how much this moment is pummeling me.
Tear me to pieces.
Ravage me.
I’m wolfing them down, even with my limbs in their possession. Banks raises my legs to his shoulders, and I’m totally exposed for him as his lips voyage to my heat.
I feel Akara watching my breath go uneven and ragged. “Fuck,” I pant as Banks kisses my inner-thigh, teasing.
I jerk in Akara’s grip, and he sinks a kiss against my neck, collarbone, nipples. The more he toys with my nipples, the more I ache and pulse.
“I can’t…” I nearly cry, my body so alight with feelings. My back arches off the island counter, and Banks eats me out like I’m sweet, glorious candy. Sucking, kissing, my clit is happy and thrumming along with the rest of my body.