Page 61 of Craving Consequences

Unlike me who is wilting beneath the brutal temperature, the other two are having no such problem.

They move across the driveway like gods carved from power and sunlight.

Every motion has biceps flexing, shoulders straining.

Big hands close into things and fist, lift and send the veins up hard forearms bunching.

Taut, smooth skin ripples across broad backs and down narrow waists to those damn V’s where their jeans drop so low on hips that know exactly how to move when they’re inside me.

I blow out a breath that does absolutely nothing when the heat is insufferable. When my skin is so ... sensitive and I’m so wet!

There has to be something wrong with me.

How many times can a girl climax before it’s too much?

Is there such a thing? Can a person die from too many orgasms because I’m pretty sure I’m about to hit some kind of record and they know it.

I don’t know if it’s a bet they made to see how many times they can kill me because both seem adamant to give me as many as possible until I can’t without crying.

Actually crying!

Tears and sobbing, begging them to stop as my body convulses and I’m so stimulated I can’t take it .

And I love it and need it. It’s become like a drug, an addiction that can be sated by no one else, not even my own hands.

“Okay, sweetheart?” Lachlan appears at my side with his own carton of things.

It’s dropped on the bed and the man turns to me. One arm lifts. The forearm smooths across the beads of sweat dampening his brow.

What am I supposed to say? I’m ready to go again? I’ve been ready since they stopped? That I’m so close I can’t think and all because watching them do random shit gets me hot and bothered? I can’t tell him that.

“I see.” He murmurs, and for a panicked second, I wonder if I actually said everything out loud. “Van,” he calls over my head towards the house.

Arms loaded with old blankets, Van steps onto the porch. His silver eyes flick from me to Lachlan.

“Yeah?”

I’m nudged forward like an offering. “Take care of her. I’ll finish the rest.”

The bedding is dropped down on the front steps, freeing his hands to move up and brush back damp locks off his brow.

“Come here, Everly,” he commands with a jerking motion of his chin .

He doesn’t even wait when turning on his heel and disappearing inside.

It’s pure curiosity, I tell myself as I follow after him. But I know that’s not it when I find him headed up the stairs, the sound of belt buckles unfastening drifting after him.

He’s in my parent’s room, beautiful and naked standing next to their bed. His cock is a piece of art bobbing free.

“Take your shorts off,” he says, getting up on the bed. “Panties, too.”

My fingers shake as I obey. The cool, air-conditioned breeze hits my soaked folds like a greedy tongue.

“Come here and sit on it,” he says.

I do not resist.

I scramble up onto the mattress and climb over him. I straddle his hips and drive myself down on all that perfect meat without a second’s hesitation.

We both groan. My back arches as my body gets what it’s been aching for. My core seizes every inch of him with an insatiable fist that has Van bucking his hips.

“What have you guys done to me?” I pant, grinding. “Why can’t I get enough?”

He groans again, hands clamping down hard on my hips as I ride him. My slick channel holds him, desperate and hungry as I bounce harder. Faster. Rattling the bed. Banging a dent into the plaster behind the headboard .

He lets me.

His big hands twist my top up over my breasts and let them bounce with every rise and fall of my hips. He watches them as I take my pleasure from him.

It’s not until I exhale and my body shudders. Until my nails sink into his chest and I gasp his name.

“Stop.”

Thrown, I stop and stare down into his set expression. “What? Why—?”

His hands slide up my sticky spine to cup the back of my head. I’m brought down, my mouth captured by his.

“Because this isn’t about cumming,” he murmurs against my lips.

“But...” I try to wiggle, but he pins me tighter.

“No,” he says firmly. “You want to be my good girl?” he waits for my reluctant nod. “Then sit. Still. Let me feel your pussy throb around me. That’s all you’re allowed to do.”

My walls clench instinctively and his breath stutters against my cheek. But I hold still.

“That’s it,” he whispers. “That’s what I want.”

Despite telling me to stay still, he shifts us. He scoots back across the sheets until his back is against the headrest. His arms stay locked around me. his cock buried to the hilt where I need him most.

But we don’t move .

We sit that way, locked on the edge of agony and bliss. So close to tipping on either side.

His mouth brushes my collarbone, trails along my throat and mouth. light, simple sweeps so sweet my eyes roll to the back of my head. He nuzzles along my jaw. His lips trace a path to my ear. The tenderness is such a devastating contrast to the thick slab of concrete wedged inside me that I whine.

“You feel that, don’t you?” he murmurs, nipping at my chin. “You’re so tight, Evie. So greedy.”

A small, strangled sound escapes me. My head falls back as my body seizes with need.

His fingers glide along the arc of my spine. Follow the bumps from nape to tailbone. Featherlight skims that I feel wrap around my core and squeeze. The area blazes, turning my skin to raw nerves, hyper aware of everything he’s doing to me.

I want to move. I want to roll my hips, just a fraction. Just enough to feel him. But I don’t.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises sweetly. “Let me feel how badly you want it without giving it to me.”

Tears sting my eyes, burn the corners, but I bite them back. I focus on the pulse in my core, the aching pressure of him inside me.

He cups the back of my neck and guides my brow to his. Brings us close. Tangles our every breath together .

“You’re so beautiful like this. So fucking perfect. I could stay buried in you for hours. Just like this. Just feeling you warm my cock with your little cunt.”

I whimper and clench. Hard. Unintentionally.

Van hisses between his teeth. “Easy, baby. You’re going to make me cum. I’m already so close.”

The thought of having that kind of power over him, of being the reason he loses control has a shudder running through me. Has my thighs quivering and my fingers sliding up his shoulders to thread into his hair.

“How close?” I prod.

His tight grin is pressed into my lips. “Close enough that I want to fuck your swollen cunt until you can’t remember your own name.”

The area in question thrums. It rushes with a fresh wave of arousal that washes down his shaft to soak the sheets under him.

“Yes,” I beg. “God, please, Van.”

His hands tighten. His cock twitches violently inside me. I think I’ve won, but he drops his lips to lick the column of my throat.

“Not yet, little brat.” His fingers fist in my hair and drags my head back for better access. “Just a little longer. Let it hurt. That’s what makes it so good. ”

We’re both shuddering and panting. Every nerve and muscle raw with exertion and restraint.

When he takes my mouth, claims my tongue, there is nothing soft in either of us.

We’re animals devouring. Consuming. Nails and teeth sink and bite and lick.

All the while, neither of us dare move our hips like we’re holding a grenade between our bodies that a single bump might set off.

“That’s it. Hold it for me. Fuck, you’re doing so good.”

The rough praises burned into my mouth sustain me. Hold me when all I want to do is crumble.

“Hold on,” he tells me softly, arm hooking around my middle, lifting us both.

I’m laid down with my head to the footboard and turned onto my belly. My hands are pulled to the wooden bars and clamped into place by only one of his. His other hand slips beneath me. Brushes down my belly to cup my mound.

With the slowest invasion, he pushes back inside me. He fills me until I’m gasping and shuddering into the mattress. My knees are pulled up and wide, giving him every inch to sink into until there is no more.

“Daddy,” I blurt unconsciously, unintentionally. It comes out of me with the natural hiccup of someone pleading for relief.

Van groans into the back of my neck. His fingers tighten around mine. His hips buck. Unhurried. Slow, rhythmic drives that match the hold of his finger on my clit.

No rubbing.

No teasing.

He pins my switch and thrusts with maddening deliberation.

“Faster,” I breathe, trying to lift my hips, but the position has me immobile. Completely at his mercy.

“Shhh,” he shushes me gently. “Let it happen.”

I’m ready to ask him what, when the first spark tightens my muscles. The weight of his thumb against my clit guides the fire to where I need it the most and I shudder. My thighs quiver. I try to push down, but his bulk won’t budge.

“Van ... Please, please...”

“You will learn to ache for me,” he says, voice a rough thread of control growling into my ear. “And cum for me. You will hold until I allow you release.”

His thumb shifts.

A nudge. Barely sufficient. A slow grind...

That’s all it takes.

I shatter.

The orgasm crashes into me like a tidal wave.

It drowns me, pulls me under until I’m a hazy hum of nerves and shrieking bells and limbs I can’t move as he continues with his steady pumps.

My body convulses, inner walls clenching around him with relentless spasms. I sob into the mattress as he carries me right to the end .

“That’s my good girl. That’s it.” He smooths his thumb over my clit with light strokes that have me fighting the overstimulation. Struggling as he teases my sensitive switch. “Keep going. Milk me. Let me breed your tight hole.”

It’s hard to say no when he’s driving deeper, flicking faster. It’s hard to speak at all when he’s giving me no choice.

I cum again and wheeze when he joins me. when his cock twitches deep inside me and empties.

“Take it,” he pants into the side of my neck. “Suck every drop.”

I think I do. I can’t be sure when I collapse with him on top of me. His cock stays wedged in my fluttering channel long after I start dozing in his arms.