Page 4 of Craving Consequences

“I could never say this to you sober.” She chuckles sluggishly. “I would let you both ruin me. All night. Just let you take turns using me until I’m too exhausted to move and keep going even after until I can’t sit—”

I’m going to hell.

I know it even before I kiss her. Before the vicious hum of hunger overtakes my senses and claims my body.

I’m booking my one way ticket and I can’t give a fuck when she moans low and throaty, and melts into me.

Her arms circle my neck. Her fingers thread into my hair.

She kisses me back like I’m offering her eternal life.

But she stops. She steals the only thing keeping me alive to tilt her head back and take Van’s mouth.

And he lets her. He growls into her swollen lips and forces his tongue in between. The hand in her hair drops to her throat, an iron clamp shackling her to him.

My dick is on fire. It’s a greedy bulge begging to fix the problem she came to the bar to fix. It pulses with every little whimper she releases while my best friend claims her mouth. Slides his hand down her collarbone. Cups her tit.

I watch like I’m in a dream as he pushes the useless fabric to one side and bares her to me.

For me. I know it’s my gift when he withdraws and returns to gripping her throat.

He’s daring me to take the offering, to accept my fate.

And, God, help me, but there is no refusing when the mound is a perfect, plump globe with a rosy tip.

It’s begging for attention and who am I to deny her ?

I can’t stop myself when my head drops and I lick it. Flick it with my tongue. A little tease that has her releasing a hiss and arching her back, begging for more. The nipple shrivels before my eyes and I smirk inwardly.

“So responsive,” I taunt, tracing a lazy circle around the peak, but never touching the sensitive tip. “Will you beg, Everly?”

I nip just hard enough to make my point. I sink my teeth into the helpless bud and tug. It’s amusing to watch her body shudder with the pain. To hear her weak whine get swallowed by Van’s tongue pushing between her lips

“Answer him,” he orders, fingers flexing at her throat as if in warning.

“Please! Don’t stop,” my eternal sin moans into my friend’s mouth.

“We’ll work on it,” I tell her, scattering open-mouthed kisses up the underside while baring the second breast to my palm.

She’s trembling now, not just from the pleasure, but the knowledge that she has zero power here. She’s completely at our mercy and no one is going to save her.

I palm her breast and squeeze just hard enough to keep her on edge. My thumb drags shy of the peak and I smirk when her breath stutters and her hips twitch.

Van’s fingers close around her jaw, forcing her face back on his shoulder, restraining her. “Lift your skirt. ”

I draw back just enough to watch her untangle her stiff fingers from the wrinkled state of my top and slip down to the strip of fabric barely covering her. They’re shaking as they hook into the hem and drag it up over her hips.

Her thighs squeeze together instinctively. A futile attempt at modesty that is endearing.

Van clicks his tongue in disapproval. “You begged for this, remember? It’s too late to hide your cunt now.”

Everly tries to say something, but it’s a garbled sound that trails off to nothing when Van slides his hand down the curve of her throat, down her chest. He ghosts his fingers over the nipple of the breast I’m cradling before resuming his journey across the plains of her belly.

“Spread your legs, Everly, or I’ll fucking leave you like this.”

The fear of his threat has her obeying quickly and without hesitation. The thin band of lace wedged between her small lips has my stomach dipping. My cock throbbing. It’s soaked with her release, the scent overwhelming with the hook of Van’s fingers in the fabric.

“That’s a good girl,” he taunts, lips brushing her ear. “Give me what’s mine.”

I think I should be annoyed by his claim, but watching him expose her, watching his long fingers slip between her folds and tease ... who gives a shit about technicalities ?

“Her cunt is so wet,” Van murmurs, low and husky. “Tight.” He turns his face to her ear. “Let me in, Everly.”

Everly’s tense. Brows pinched with pain. Her gasps, shredded, and I know he’s working his finger inside her.

“Trying. Your finger is too big.”

Van snickers, dark and twisted. “My cock is bigger. Let. Me. In.”

I cradle her face and draw her mouth to mine. “Easy,” I whisper against her stiff lips. “You’re doing so good.”

“Don’t lie to her, Lach. She can barely take two knuckles. If she can’t take one finger, how will she take my cock? Open!” Finger glistening with her cream is brought to her face and forced between her lips. “Suck. Get it wet.”

She does obediently. Cheeks hollow around the digit he pumps between her lips. I know she can taste herself and I want to make her do this again but with my cock.

“Ready?” I ask her.

She nods, eyes locked with mine.

Van grunts as he extracts the finger. He examines it before descending once more.

“This is what you came here for, isn’t it, Everly?

This is what you wanted.” He’s between her quivering thighs once more and in with a single thrust that widens Everly’s eyes and steals a gasp from her.

“Better,” he purrs, wrist pumping. “But I know you can take more. Your pussy is meant to be stretched and dripping.”

“Yes.” She licks her lips still wet from Van’s kiss. “Stretch me,” she begs, voice rising as she crests. “Use me.”

“Your cunt wouldn’t be able to handle us both,” Van scoffs. “You can barely take this.”

“I’ll get better. I promise.”

Her desperate pleading has me cutting my teeth into her bottom lip.

“You want us to stretch you, sweetheart?” I provoke. “Get you open wide enough to take us both in your tight little cunt?”

Her eyes practically roll back in her skull as her entire body bends. Her head falls back against Van’s chest and I take advantage of her exposed throat with my teeth. My tongue. I trace the hammering vein. Suck the salt from her skin.

“Do you think you can take it?” I taunt, pinching and twisting her nipple until she wails.

“Please, Mr. Weaver. Don’t stop.”

“Van,” he corrects low in his throat, thrusts quickening. “And answer Lachlan, baby. Can you take it?”

Her head bobs, no words coming from her parted lips. Only a series of incoherent whimpering that pitches in volume when Van meets my eyes, his cold and hot at the same time as he bares his teeth in an almost-challenge and Everly screams .

It’s pain and pleasure. It’s the sweetest agony. The cruelest torture. I imagine Van must have added an extra finger, but he may as well have torn her apart for the way she comes undone in our arms. The way her fingers twist in my top and I have to hold her up when her knees give.

“Please don’t stop,” she pants into my chest. “More.”

“That’s it,” Van drawls. “Such a good girl. Ride my hand, Everly. Show me how good you’ll feel riding my cock.”

I have never hated and loved anything more than this moment.

She’s falling apart between us, my shirt fisted in her trembling hands, her breath a hot, broken thing burning my chest. She’s trembling like she’ll shatter if I let her go.

I feel every shudder as if they are mine.

Every flutter of her pulse. Every quiver of her thighs squeezing Van’s moving hand. Every desperate grind of her hips.

And all I can do is hold her tighter. Not because I have to, but because if I don’t, I might do something reckless ... like shove Van aside, drop to my knees and clean her mess.

It must have shown on my face because the bastard smirks like he knows he can read my mind. He pushes in deeper, pumps harder, dragging another helpless, breathy whine from Everly. Her body jolts with every thrust of his fingers, caught between pleasure and surrender .

But he doesn’t allow her to submit. He gives her no relief when he waits for that sound, that desperate little cry I know will haunt my dreams before he stops. Leaving her teetering on the edge.

“No...”

Van ignores her. We both do when he’s watching me with smug arrogance. A challenge. A dare to take my turn, to see just how soaked she is. To feel her like he had. To stop being a little bitch.

He raises his fingers, two glistening digits and slips them into his mouth. His tongue curls, slow and obscene, around each, and the sound he makes has my blood rushing south so hard I see red for a second. My molars creak. My grip on Everly’s waist bruises. My self-control frays at the edges.

I could take her. Press her into the nearest wall and bury myself into everything Van just primed. I could ruin her in ways she’s never imagined.

But I don’t. I can’t. I know if I start, I will never stop.

I will never give her back. I’ll rip her away from Bron. I’ll fight him to keep her and that isn’t what a good father is supposed to do.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Everly rasps, face wedged in my chest. “I’ve dreamt of belonging somewhere .

.. to someone. To you...” She lifts her head, eyes dazed and shimmering with unshed emotion.

A flush spreads across her cheeks, but she doesn’t look away.

“I’m so scared I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone. ”

Her words are a blade and a balm, cutting me open and healing me in the same breath.

She’s carving my soul open without even trying and I’m struggling to keep my idiot tongue in check when all it wants to do is confess all my own aches and longings.

I am drowning. Suffocating as the words lodge in my throat, begging to tell her I’ve dreamt of this .

.. of her, too. I’ve imagined a million different ways where I am in her life, being the man she needs.

I want to gather her in my arms like something sacred and tell her I’m not going anywhere.

But my throat is tight with all the things I can’t say because I am a coward, and I know I will never heal from the heartbreak come morning if I speak.