Page 29 of Kitty Season (Green Line Ice #2)
I honestly can’t believe this is happening.
The virgin confession I’ve held so close to my chest it doubled as a second skin, was taken not as something I should feel shame for, but as a challenge.
Now, it’s going to be over before it begins, because I’m going to come in my pants and embarrass myself.
I don’t actually have pants on, but that’s not the point.
Watching one of Quinn’s perfect breasts slide in and out of Troye’s mouth, I fidget and fist the sheets beneath me in an attempt to not blow my load and disgrace myself. It’s not easy since this is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. And heard.
“We’re going to make you feel so good, Brady. It will be the first time you’ve always dreamed of,” Quinn whispers between drawn out moans, with no concept of just how right she is.
Or just how thoroughly losing my virginity to the girl I love, that doesn’t love me back, will break my heart.
Oblivious to it all, she’s lying before me in lingerie designed by Lucifer himself, while I’m in my naked, bar my socks, and Troye is fully clothed.
Why that’s as hot as it is I don’t know.
Probably something I shouldn’t look too deeply into.
A glistening train of saliva stretches from Quinn’s peaked, pink nipple to Troye’s lips when with a pop, he releases a boob and turns to me. “You like what I just did to her? Well, what Quinn’s going to do to your dick is a thousand times better. Think you can handle that?”
I nod.
I fucking nod.
I think I have nodded more over the last—almost—hour than I have in my whole life. But honestly, what can you say to that? “Ah huh. Yes, please. I think I would very much like your hot as hell girlfriend to blow me while you watch on … and maybe you can suck on my neck some more while she’s at it.”
Yeah. I think not.
Thankfully, a nod suffices and Quinn shifts onto her knees, placing one arm on either side of my legs and crawling over me.
“Ahh. I. Quinny. I dunno how long this will last.” Last is drawn out in a surprisingly in-tune falsetto over maybe thirty seconds because Quinn is leaning down, her boobs squishing into my legs following the path of her lips.
From ankle to knee she kisses me. From knee to upper thigh she bites.
Then stills. “At any time if you want me to stop just say so, and if you can’t speak …
” she pulls at my wrist till I release the cotton sheet, raises my arm and slides my fingers into her hair … “Just tug.”
“Jesus Christ, Quinny. You’re going to be the death of me.”
A low, rumbly laugh draws my attention from Quinn’s lips. “But what a way to go, hey, Skip.”
Before I can reply, probably with a nod, Quinn buries her face in the juncture of my hip and dick and nuzzles. “Fuckfuckfuckffukityfuck, Quinnnn.”
“You smell so good, Brady,” she praises between wet, open-mouthed kisses.
“Bet he tastes it too.” Troye drags his left hand through Quinn’s hair and taps on my thigh with his left.
It’s not gentle, or sexual in the slightest, but I hiss and moan at the feel of his skin on mine.
“Lift your ass, Skip. We’re going to prop you up a little.
” He watches on, hardly blinking as I flatten then press my feet into the mattress, raising my hips just enough for Quinn to slide a pillow beneath me.
One at a time, she lifts my legs, kissing the arch of each before placing them back on the bed.
It’s only then that she sits up and takes me in.
I should probably be embarrassed by the mess my weeping dick has made of my stomach, but how can I be when a wide-eyed Troye runs his tongue over his lip, then bends down to lick me clean. “You’re a beast of a man, Skip. Fucking delicious.”
“Save some for me, Troyeby.” Sliding her body back over me, Quinn taps my thighs and for once, I take the hint, spreading them wide enough for her to position herself between them.
“You’re so beautiful, Brady,” she whispers, before sucking the head of my cock in to her mouth. My hips buck, and I feel myself hit the back of her throat. I expect her to gag or splutter like the girls did in the porn I watched, but instead she hollows out her cheeks and sucks me deeper.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, holy shit.” Nothing has ever, ever, ever come close to this feeling. Head to toe I’m rigid. My teeth switch between clenching so hard they may shatter, and plunging into my lip to the point of pain.
Quinn, the girl I dream of each and every night, is bobbing up and down on me, taking me deep, making me see fucking solar systems, not stars, time and time again.
And Troye, my new team mate. The guy that’s tormented me all year. The guy I hate, is kissing his way across my abs, nipping and sucking my skin between his teeth.
Raising his head, his eyes meet mine and lock, staring into my soul. “She’s incredible, isn’t she, Skip?”
“Yep. Yep. Good.”
“You want to fuck her mouth? You can, you know. She loves it. Watch. Here Kitty, Kitty.”
Moaning in agreement, Quinn places her hand over the one I still have lodged in her hair and pushes it down. I almost come there and then.
“I don’t want to hurt her.”
“You won’t. Trust me.”
Quinn pulls off and begs, “Please, Brades. Fuck my mouth.”
So I do. Raising my hips the tiniest fraction I thrust as she lowers and that’s it.
Indescribable pleasure licks down my spine, through my balls and down to my feet.
Then the unthinkable happens. Troye fucking Becker joins her, running his warm, wet tongue around the base of my dick, lapping my balls.
Oh my fucking God.
I try to warn her, to tug her free but there’s just no time. On a cry that may wake her parents, I explode, thrusting and unleashing streams of cum into her mouth.
“Good boy, Skip. Fill her up,” he urges.
Good boy? Jesus fucking Christ.
Quinn joins me in a total porno moan and keeps on sucking till there can’t possibly be a drop of fluid left in my body. Just when I think she’s going to pull off, she stays, running her tongue over my head to catch every last drop. “Perfect. Your dick is perfect.”
“Thank you.”
I cringe at my stupidity but Quinny laughs, letting my softening cock slide from her mouth.
I feel so good I could almost cry. I could definitely sleep.
Then maybe I do.
A string of breathy giggles has dark giving way to light as the room slowly comes back into focus. Shit. I’ve pulled the ultimate virgin move and come myself into a coma.
I’m not sure how long I blacked out for, but I’m face down, my dick is still softening, and the brush of the sheet across my oversensitive tip is almost unbearable. Turning toward the noise I rub my eyes, take in a scene that’s both a blessing and curse.
Quinn and Troye are wrapped around each other kissing though their lives depend on the other’s saliva.
Between passionate petting, he’s caressing her face, whispering her name, and she’s and doing the same, while giggling.
The way they move as one so hot, but deep and passionate and intimate and raw.
In one breath, I’ve gone from active participant to voyeur.
They’re so into each other. Know each other inside out, and it shows in how their eyes fuse together in ecstasy as he lays her down and covers her body with his.
“Fuck me Troye. Please,” she begs. “I need to feel you inside me.”
Grunting, Troye attacks his belt, ripping it through the loops like a seasoned pro. Shimmying out of his pants. Ripping his shirt over his head as proficient as a snake shedding its skin.
In awe, I watch him slide on a condom, nudge her knees apart, and plow inside of her, all without removing his gaze from hers.
“Troye!” Back arching off the bed, she gasps his name each time slams inside her. Again and again, he pushes inside her, the violence of his thrusts belied by the loving way he wipes the matted hair off her forehead, and tenderly peppers kisses to her nose.
“You’re so fucking hot, Kitty. Can you feel how hard you’ve made me?” he grunts, sliding his arms beneath her ass and squeezing.
“Yes. Yes.”
For weeks, months, I’ve heard this guy boast that he feels nothing for Quinn, that whatever is going on between them is purely physical. Well, this, watching this, is the ultimate proof of what a fucking liar Troye Becker is.
This is real. His feelings are real.
I shouldn’t be here.
The need to run and hide and never face them again is so strong I feel I may be sick. Without a word, I move to push off the bed but am stopped almost immediately by a calloused hand grabbing mine.
“Don’t go, Skip. I want you to watch me till she screams my name, then I want you to fuck me till I forget my own.”