We groan together, the sound filling the room and stirring us to keep going.
Footsteps, then an inhale, and I picture him gripping Avery’s cheekies in his fist and bringing them to his nose to take in her scent.
Weston growls, Avery and I pausing to glance to the doorway.
He’s standing there, dark gray towel slung low on his hips, Avery’s cheekies fisted in his hand like I’d thought they’d be, his well-toned body held a dusting of lingering water droplets strewn about, his face giving away every bit of his interest.
Avery is first to speak, “We have a different kind of plan tonight. Wanna know what it entails?”
Weston cocks a knowing smirk, meets both mine and Avery’s stare, then he allows the towel to come loose and fall in a pool at his feet.
Fucking-hell.
He’s thick and I approve. His eyes rake over the two bodies on his bed, that deep British baritone making my head spin.
“Do tell, little miss.” That gravely tone sends shivers through me. The nickname we gave Avery sounds hella good coming from him.
“Shark and I will continue on doing as we were,” A level of her own dominance now lacing her words, “which in turn requires you to fuck Shark tonight.”
The beefy six-foot-six linebacker of a man bites his lip as if in contemplation, a ghost of heat in his cheeks, then his eyes flash with a newfound flame of need.
“I rather enjoy that idea,” he pauses, grabs the lube from his nightstand, then bends to Avery demanding a kiss.
That sight is so. Fucking. Hot.
Their tongues tangle then Weston breaks the kiss and moves his bruting body over to me, landing a hard passion-filled kiss on my lips. He growls again then pulls back.
“I love Avery’s taste on your tongue. It drives me mad.”
“Don’t I know it.” I give a telling grin.
He’s quick at getting right down to business, his slick lubed fingers glide up and down the seam of my ass, the same time Avery is pumping my cock and licking the pre-come off the tip.
She keeps that up I’m going to blow.
“Do you want me here tonight, Shark? Because I want to be there.” Weston states confidently, always asking for permission first.
“You know I do.” My tone is breathy and begging, the same time more lube is added, and his slick finger teases my hole. “Yes, please.”
Weston’s finger slides in and out a few times then he goes still, his domineering traits in full force.
“Mate. I will not continue until you have that fucking mouth of yours is on our lass.”
Right. How could I forget? I make quick work at parting her folds and giving our woman what she most craves. What she deserves. My tongue swirls at her clit making her buck into my mouth. Her wetness coats me the same time I hear her moan.
“Weston.” She gasps and I glimpse through the tangle our of limbs.
Weston is now two fingers deep in me, hitting that sweet spot. All the while, his other hand cups Avery’s breast, flicking her nipple with his finger, back and forth, back and forth, and playing tonsil hockey with her. He swallows her moans and pants as the two of us bring her closer to the edge.
Thank fuck she stopped stroking me. It’s there set in her hand but she’s otherwise too occupied at the moment to continue. I lap at her clit and, holy shit, by the flood surrounding my mouth, she is so damn close.
I give a good hard suck to her clit and flick my tongue rapidly. Her body stiffens but I don’t let up until she is squirming away, her sign of it being too overly sensitized. Her satisfied sigh sounds as I let up.
“Give me your mouth, Shark. I need to taste our lass again, then maybe I’ll give you what you want.” Weston shifts his weight on the mattress then takes his hand from Avery’s body and grabs my jaw, not menacing. Just right. A man’s rough tender touch.
He takes everything from me he wants, what he demands. That low growl of his fills my mouth and I can’t help as my ass tightens around his fingers at the sound.
“God, Weston,” I breathe, “make good on your promise.”