Page 30 of Craving Consequences

EVERLY

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A spanking?

My breath stutters at the very prospect. That’s an offer I would pay them to commit. I can barely nod fast enough. Barely stand still when Lachlan Shaw slides his big palms down my back. Over my ass and cups them. He squeezes.

God, am I dreaming?

“What was that dress, baby?” he starts. “Who were you wearing that for?”

“No one,” I lie weakly.

How am I supposed to tell them I bought it for them? I saw it in a shop in Mayfield weeks ago and thought of them. that I imagined their hands on me. They’d think I was a terrible person.

Lachlan hums softly but isn’t convinced. “That was not a no one dress. Who was it for?”

“I...” Words tangle up in my throat. “No, I—”

Snap!

The sharp sting of plastic lights up my left cheek, stealing the air from my lungs. My whole body jolts. The spot prickles. I can’t reach it, but Lachlan smooths a palm over the spot until the prickles abide.

“No lying.”

I can’t, but the fear of another strike has me struggling to cooperate. Even as my thighs squeeze together.

“I got it ... for you and Van,” I confess weakly. “I wanted ... I wanted to wear it for you.”

The smack is harder, sharper. I cry out, the leg lifting from the sting. Tears prickle the corners of my eyes.

“Why?” I whimper. “I told the truth.”

Lachlan, expression a heavy mask of desire, smirks. “We make the rules.”

His hand slides over the curve and under my skirt. He fingers the edge of my panties. The useless strip of fabric cutting up between my cheeks.

Van steps closer. His heat is a furnace grazing my back, curling around me. His fingers command my throat from behind, and my head is gently wrenched back so I’m staring up into the molten hunger burning in his eyes.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he asks, voice low, lethal, laced with something darker than anger ... want. Ravenous need.

I try to shake my head but his grip only tightens.

Lachlan slides his hand higher under my skirt, knuckles brushing the slick, soaked center of my panties .

“You did this,” Lachlan growls, lips at the arch of my exposed throat. “You opened my cage, and I don’t know how to go back in.”

I shudder at his words. At the confliction in his voice. At the open-mouthed kisses trailing down my collarbone. His fingers hook inward and slip between my lips. Slide over the hard knot of my clit.

“Lachlan!”

Van loosens his possessive grip to slide down, following Lachlan’s wandering lips. His fingers hook into the collar and drags it down, stretching the band containing my breasts.

Lachlan is on me before I’m even fully bare. My nipple is in his mouth, sucking and nipping in time to the roll of his fingers between my thighs.

“Please,” I whine.

“Fuck, you beg so sweetly,” Van groans into my ear. His fingers bunch into my skirt and hikes it higher around my hips. “I want you on your knees, begging to suck my cock while Lach fucks you from behind.”

Without a thought in my head, except that I never want them to stop, I reach around and cup him. It’s a bold, surprising move that startles even me, but Van groans low and throaty and nothing short of death is getting me to release my hold on the hot, girthy bulge now cradled in my palm .

“Want him,” I pant, squeezing and rubbing from base to tip through the denim.

Van snickers low. “Then take him.”

I shake my head. “In me.”

“Spread,” he hisses into my jawline. “Let me in.”

My legs part obediently, and I’m rewarded with the plunge of two fingers from behind. Lachlan’s fingers never cease their circling. Their unhurried flicks while his friend pumps into me with hard, steady thrusts.

“You’re perfect like this,” Lachlan lifts his head off my breast to nip at my chin with his teeth. “Between us, open and helpless. A pretty toy for us to use.”

I whimper because he’s right. I feel perfect.

Owned and protected. My muscles ache from holding myself up, but I know they won’t let me fall.

I could jump off a ledge and they will be at the bottom to catch me.

It’s a certainty that gives me the confidence to submit without fear. To fall without hesitation.

Van’s fingers curl inside me just right, stroking something so deep I forget my name.

“Again!” I wheeze, thighs trembling.

“Here?” he taunts, hooking his knuckles and catching that same spot...

“Yes!” My fingers close into his forearm. Not to stop him. But to hold him there .

“God, you’re tight,’ he growls, curling his fingers again and dragging them down my walls. “Can’t wait to get my cock in here, see how deep I can go before I split you open.”

I moan, head falling back against his shoulder. Hips writhing to meet every conflicting assault from both — Lachlan’s deliberate strokes. Van’s punishing thrusts.

“I want it,” I gasp, eyes twisting shut as the pressure builds up my belly. “I want you both ... so close...”

I barely understand the words coming off my tongue. I know nothing, except that I am inches from the cliff. The fireworks cracking behind my eyelids.

Van’s phone bursts to life between us like a bomb. I flinch at the interruption. Lachlan’s arms tighten, hold me in place as Van curses and drags the device free with the hand he’s not using to send me to heaven.

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow down. He stays inside me while putting the phone to his ear.

“Hey?”

My guess is Lauren just like I’m guessing Bron had called Lachlan earlier. It’s in their voices. Plus, I haven’t called or texted either of them since yesterday morning. Bron may not notice, but Lauren has.

They don’t let it distract me. I am given no chance to even consider what’s happening when Lachlan pulls me flush against him .

“Why did you stop?” he growls into my ear.

“Phone?” I murmur stupidly.

His fingers circle harder, almost matching Van’s pace. “We didn’t tell you to stop.” He nibbles on my jawline. “Cum, Everly. Soak your panties. Then take them off and give them to me.”

Despite the renewed flame snapping through me, I chuckle. “Don’t you already have one of my panties?”

His smirk is sly as he leans in and sucks on my bottom lip. “I want a collection in my nightstand. I want to reach over in the morning, pick one and wrap it around my cock as I jerk off to the smell of you.”

His kiss deepens, swallowing my moan. I melt against him even as Van continues to work me from behind. He hasn’t missed a beat the entire time he talks on the phone.

“Lachlan, please...”

I grind, shameless and desperate against them, chasing my own release.

Lachlan pinches my clit and just holds it. He kisses the gasp caught on my gaping mouth.

“I woke up this morning throbbing, Everly. Your smell was all over me. All over the bed. All I could think about was spreading you open like you were for me last night and pumping you full of my seed before holding you down and letting Van use you. ”

“Oh, God. Please,” I whimper, humping his hand harder.

“Yeah. No, I haven’t heard from her.”

My blood turns cold at the mention of her. He definitely means me, and the only person who would call Van to ask about me is Lauren.

“Yeah, I’ll keep trying. She’s probably busy.”

I hear the faint hum of Lauren’s voice bleeding through the moment.

There is worry and something else that I can’t think to decipher.

I should probably feel panic somewhere beneath the sweet torture, but it’s lost in the way Lachlan cups my face with one hand and Van meets that knot inside me with his knuckles.

It’s hard to focus when it all feels so good.

Too good.

I can’t contain the long, low groan as I reach the edge.

“Hey, was that—?” Lauren’s voice sharpens through the speaker.

Van smothers the phone against his shoulder, freeing up his hand to slide across my quivering belly, holding me steady as I ride his fingers. Set my own pace.

“I said cum, Everly,” Lachlan growls in my ear.

And I do.

I break in their hold. My body seizes. Knees buckle. My nails cut into Lachlan’s chest as I twist his top in my fist. I am vaguely aware of the sounds coming out of me. Vaguely aware of Van’s hissed curse and hasty, “I gotta go. ”

Hand free, it clamps down around my throat, dragging me back into his chest. “Couldn’t wait, huh?” he snarls, pounding in harder, forcing every last shudder from me. “Had to cum while I was on the phone, didn’t you? Had to let everyone know what a greedy little hole you have.”

Dizzy, breathless and barely coherent, I can’t stop him when his cum-sticky fingers leave my sated channel to stuff into my mouth.

The taste of my release coats my tongue. It fills my throat as he forces me to clean myself off his skin.

Back at my nipple with his teeth and tongue, Lachlan takes his friend’s place at my opening. He hooks two fingers in with the same unhurried ease as when he’d been teasing my clit.

“So greedy,” he agrees, sucking lightly. “Bet she’d let us do it again.”

I whimper, throat full of Van’s fingers. Hips twitching, overstimulated and desperate for more.

Van pulls free of my twisting and lapping tongue with a pop of my lips. His voice is gravel and sin cutting into the side of my face.

“Is that true? Does your cunt want to go again?”

“Please ... please!” my voice hitches with the hard plunge of Lachlan’s fingers going too deep.

Van kisses my cheek sweetly. “I need another one, baby. One more then we’ll bend you over and fill you up again. ”

The thought of them using me to empty in has my insides fisting. Has me practically coming apart on the spot with such blissful violence. I am prepared to do anything they ask just to feel them in me.

But Van suddenly jerks back with a sharp hiss of Lachlan’s name. I barely have a chance to feel the loss when Lachlan is pulling my dress into place. Covering me up. I start to protest when I hear it. The faint shuffle of feet on loose stones.

“Hey, Everly, Bron is looking for you.”

Just like that, it all ends when Bryan’s voice breaks through our little bubble.

Both men step back just as he rounds the storage door and darkens the afternoon light. Lachlan kneels at my feet, head down with the pretense of gathering the spilled items off the floor. Van grabs a random bin off a shelf and holds it at his midsection.

It would all have been wildly comical, except my clit is throbbing. I can barely stand as my knees continue to tremble. I’m panting and my face is flushed, and I’m so pissed I could punch Bryan in the smiling face.

He holds up his phone. “He’s been texting the group asking if anyone’s seen you. I guess your phone must be dead. I told him you were here.”

Idiot.

But it’s not his fault. Mostly .

“Thanks, Bryan. My phone’s in the truck.”

He nods like that makes sense. “I’ll let him know.”

He’s already texting as he turns and hurries out.

Silence follows his departure. I know we’re not continuing even before Lachlan straightens with the box of upended Thanksgiving decorations.

His expression is a closed vault. Iron clad and dark as he faces me. “Get your things, sweetheart.”

There’s no tenderness in his voice now. No teasing. Just the hard, tight command of a man already halfway back behind his walls.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I reach down and brush my dress down over my still trembling body, still sensitive skin. My panties are a wet knot wedged between my legs, and I wonder if Lachlan still wants them.

Van sets the bin back on the shelf, face hard with his own annoyance. He rubs a hand back through his hair and scowls at the spot Bryan had stood.

I get it. There is no doubt in my mind that we all want each other. That it’s mutual and hot, but it’s also very clear that we can’t be trusted alone together.

It’s no one’s fault, but after all this is said and done, after the party, it would be best for all of us to go our separate ways.

I don’t like it. The very thought has my heart twisting, but it’s necessary if I want them to be okay.

How can they live simple, happy lives if I make things worse for them?

I can’t be the reason they lose everything.

Resigned, I drift over to where my dad kept the party supplies. There isn’t nearly as much as Christmas or Halloween, but there are bins of paper plates, cutlery and streamers. I even find several Ziploc baggies full of balloons. Each one is labeled in Dad’s chunky print.

Bach/bachelorette.

Baby shower.

Bar mitzvah.

Birthday balloons are at the very bottom. I chuck it into one of the bins.

With a deep sigh, I plant my fists on my hips and squint up at the blue tote high above my head. It has no label. Curiosity has me bracing my foot along the bottom edge and reaching. My fingers brush the rim. It shifts.

Slides.

I don’t even have time to scream before strong arms grab me around the waist and yank me backwards into a hard chest. The bin cracks across the floor, lid popping off and upending an explosion of colorful lace and tulle.

I don’t even have time to process what it all is when my pulse is racing.

Breathing hard, I tip my head back to find Lachlan standing at my back, face stormy with concern .

“You okay?” he asks softly.

I nod slowly. “Thank you.”

I wait for him to let me go. To step back and put space between us. Unlike Van, I know he understands the importance of keeping our distance.

But he stays. He keeps his arm fastened around me like he might never let me go. His heart is a steady, confident drum beating into my shoulder blade through the strong wall of his chest.

It’s taking everything in me not to lean back and succumb. Made even harder when he brushes my hair back, lets his fingers graze my cheek, trace my bottom lips.

“Lachlan...”

His sigh reverberates through me. “You’re fucking killing me, sweetheart.”

It would have hurt less if he’d driven a dagger straight into my heart and twisted. His solemn confession is pain unlike any other and I am frozen to do anything but bite back the tears building in my throat.

“I’m sorry,” I say in barely a whisper.

His features soften even while his heart continues to break behind his eyes. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

With that, he brushes the sweetest poisonous kiss to my lips before letting me go.