Page 45

TWENTY-FOUR

F allon

I lay back on the velvet comforter, the curtains drawn tight, the late-morning light filtered in gold through the high arched windows. The baby shifted low in my belly—just enough to remind me he was there, watching everything from the inside.

I didn’t care.

I’d waited days, hoping they would change their minds before buying it, waiting while my body begged, ached, screamed in silence for something neither of them would give me.

They kept saying no.

Too risky , you need rest , what if we hurt you ? Are you trying to give the baby a golf ball-shaped head?

And I was done asking so they won’t give me what I want. I will find it another way.

I peel back the paper. The toy inside is sleek and soft, charged and ready, thank god.

My thighs clench in anticipation as I slide out of my robe and crawl onto the bed, sinking into the cool sheets.

I lean back against the pillows, legs spread just enough to make room for indulgence and press the toy between them.

The first buzz sends a ripple up my spine.

My head drops back. Finally. Finally.

One hand sliding slow and deliberate between my legs. My breath hitched as the ache that had been living in my bones for weeks began to unravel. I moan softly, biting my lip.

My skin prickles. I closed my eyes, let the tension start to melt. I don’t hear the door open. Don’t hear their footsteps.

Not until it is too late.

A low sound of disapproval rumbles from the doorway, and my eyes snap open to see Leone with Milo right behind him.

Shit. My hand freezes, toy still pressed tight against my clit, the vibrations humming through me.

For a second, no one moves, no one breathes.

The air crackles, thick with unspoken things.

My cheeks burn, but defiance, hot and sharp, cuts through the embarrassment.

I don’t try to hide what I’m doing. Let them look.

Let them see what their stubbornness has driven me to.

Leone’s eyes, dark and molten, are fixed on my hand, then travel slowly up my body, lingering on my swollen belly, then my breasts, before finally meeting my gaze.

A muscle jumps in his jaw. Milo steps farther into the room, his shadow falling over the bed.

He says nothing, but his eyes are doing all the talking – a mix of fury and something else, something possessive and raw that makes my core clench.

“What do you think you’re doing, cara?” Leone asks.

“What does it look like?” I challenge, my voice a little breathless.

I press the toy harder, a defiant pulse against my clit, and a small, involuntary gasp escapes me.

Fuck them. Fuck their rules. Leone’s nostrils flare.

He takes a step closer, then another, until he’s looming over the edge of the bed.

The scent of him – expensive cologne, gunmetal, and something uniquely male – fills my senses.

“It looks like you’re playing with our pussy, amore. And it looks like you’ve forgotten who that pussy belongs to,” Leone warns, his voice deceptively soft.

My hips give a small, involuntary lift.

Leone’s eyes flash. He moves with predatory grace, one hand shooting out to grip my wrist, his fingers like steel bands.

The toy clatters to the sheets. "You think this is funny, tesoro?

We don't like denying you, but we didn't think you were this upset over it that you'd replace us for a toy?

" His other hand snakes out, palm flat against my belly, a possessive, branding heat.

"You're carrying my son. You belong to us.

Your pleasure belongs to us, not some toy. "

Milo circles the bed, his gaze burning into me. He stops on my other side, his presence a heavy weight, an unspoken promise. His hand finds my thigh, fingers digging in just enough to make me gasp, his touch sending shivers down to my toes.

"You wanted something, little bug?" Leone murmurs, his face close to mine, his breath warm against my ear. "You should have just asked properly."

"I did ask," I spit out, even as my body betrays me, arching subtly into his touch.

"Not like this," Milo's voice is a low growl from my other side. He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, sending a jolt straight to my core.

Leone’s hand slides from my belly, lower, his fingers brushing against the damp curls between my legs.

"You're already wet for us," he observes, his thumb finding my clit with unerring accuracy.

I cry out, a sharp, broken sound, as he circles, presses, teases.

The ache I'd tried to soothe with plastic is nothing compared to the inferno his touch ignites.

"Is this what you wanted?" he demands, his eyes locking with mine. His thumb strokes harder, faster.

Milo’s hand on my thigh tightens, his other hand coming up to cup my breast, his thumb flicking over the already tight nipple. Pleasure, sharp and overwhelming, floods me. I’m caught between them, a willing captive to their dual assault.

"Answer me," Leone commands, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

"Yes," I gasp, the word torn from me as a tremor runs through my body. "Yes, damn you."

A cruel smile touches Leone’s lips. "Good girl." He grinds his thumb against me one last time, pushing me to the brink, then pulls back slightly, leaving me panting, desperate. "But a toy isn't going to cut it, amore. Not when you have us."

Milo leans down, his fingers popping the buttons on my pajama top, his lips brushing mine softly before his mouth moves to my breast, sucking hard.

My back arches off the bed, a strangled cry escaping my lips.

Leone watches, his eyes glittering, before his mouth takes over from my toy, a brutal, claiming as his tongue plunges inside me.

My hands, free now, fist in the sheets, then find their way to their hair, their shoulders, holding on as they begin to show me exactly what I've been missing. And in the haze of pleasure and surrender, I can’t find it in me to care about anything but their touch, their heat, their utter, inescapable possession.

His tongue is a weapon, plundering, demanding, drawing out every last drop of the pleasure I’d tried to hoard for myself.

Milo’s mouth is equally relentless on my breast. He suckles, bites lightly, his tongue laving my nipple until it’s exquisitely sensitive, a raw nerve ending.

His hand, the one not possessively gripping my thigh, slides down my side, over my hip, his fingers dipping into the slickness Leone is creating.

He groans, a low, guttural sound against my skin, and the vibration of it travels straight to my core.

"You like that, little bug?" Leone murmurs, his mouth lifting from me for a torturous second, his breath hot against my wet folds.

"Like how we taste you? How we make you come apart for us?

" He doesn’t wait for an answer, his tongue diving back in, harder this time, finding that one spot, that tiny knot of nerves, and working it with brutal efficiency.

Leone’s fingers slide inside me, two of them, stretching me, filling the void his mouth just abandoned.

He moves with a rhythm that’s both brutal and exquisitely knowing, hitting my G-spot with every deliberate thrust. I cry out, a raw, keening sound that’s swallowed by Milo’s mouth as he claims my lips, his kiss as punishing and possessive as everything else they do.

His tongue tangles with mine, a battle for dominance I’m more than willing to lose.

The bedsheets are twisted beneath me, my legs spread wide, accommodating them both. One has his mouth on me, the other his fingers inside me, and I'm a mess of sensation, teetering on the edge of a precipice I’m desperate to fall over.

"So responsive. So fucking needy for us."

Milo breaks the kiss, his breathing ragged against my cheek. "She knows who she belongs to," he says, his hand sliding down from my breast, over my swollen belly, a brief, possessive caress before his hand is tugging at my thigh as he leans back so he can watch Leone fuck me with his fingers.

Milo groans at Leone’s hand between my legs when he slips his fingers from me making me whine. Leone chuckles undoing his belt and tugging his cock free. He strokes his hard length for a moment before gliding it between my wet folds.

“Is this what you want?” he groans, nudging at my entrance, but not entering. I wiggle lower, wanting exactly what he is offering.

"Please," I whimper, arching my hips, trying to impale myself on him. A dark, satisfied smile curves his lips. He thrusts, just the head of his cock, a thick, brutal stretching that steals my breath. My nails dig into his shoulders. He groans, a deep, primal sound that vibrates through me.

“That’s it, amore,” he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. He pushes deeper, inch by agonizing inch, filling me, stretching me until I feel like I’m splitting apart, but in the best possible way.

The pressure is immense, a delicious agony, and my hands reach for Milo’s belt.

he pulls away, and Leone pulls out, making me whimper.

“On your hands and knees,” he says, slapping my thigh as Milo moves up the bed while unzipping his pants, and he kneels on the bed above my head. Rolling, I reach for his cock as he pulls it out, he slaps my hands.

“We aren’t both fucking you, now on your hands and knees,” Milo orders as Leone drags me lower. I push up on my hands and knees feeling Leone move between my legs just as Milo grips my hair bringing my mouth to his cock.

His cock is thick and hard, the veins prominent under my exploring tongue as I take him in.

The taste of him, musky and male, fills my senses.

He groans, his hips bucking slightly, pushing himself deeper, my jaw aching with the stretch.

My hands instinctively go to his thighs, gripping him for balance, for purchase, as he sets the pace.

Behind me, Leone’s hands are on my hips, guiding me, positioning me. I feel the blunt head of his cock press against my entrance, hot and demanding. He doesn’t wait for an invitation, doesn’t ask for permission. He just takes.

A raw cry is muffled by Milo’s cock as Leone thrusts into me.

He’s huge, filling me completely, stretching me until I’m screaming silently around Milo.

He moves with a steady rhythm, each thrust deeper than the last, grinding against that sensitive spot, sending shockwaves of sensation through my already overstimulated body.

Milo’s fingers tangle tighter in my hair, tilting my head back, forcing me to take more of him as Leone pounds into me from behind.

I’m trapped, pinned between them, their captive audience and their willing plaything.

My world narrows to the feel of Milo’s cock sliding down my throat and Leone’s driving into my cunt, the scent of their arousal, the sound of their guttural groans, and the overwhelming, all-consuming pleasure that’s building inside me like a tidal wave.

My hips buck wildly, trying to meet his every move, trying to escape the unbearable pleasure, trying to get more of it.

I can feel the orgasm building, a tight, coiling knot deep in my belly, fueled by their relentless assault. It’s too much, too intense, but I don’t want them to stop.

Milo pulls his cock almost out of my mouth, just enough for me to gasp for air, then thrusts back in, a possessive, claiming move that mirrors Leone’s deep strokes. The combined sensations are shattering. My vision blurs. My body convulses.

The orgasm hits me like a freight train—a blinding, all-consuming wave that rips through me, making me scream around Milo’s cock, my body arching and spasming. Leone groans, his own thrusts becoming harder, deeper, and hammering into me as he spills himself inside me.

Milo groans, his body tensing, and his hand in my hair grips tighter when he pulls my mouth off his cock. His warm release splashes across my face, coating me in his cum.

Leone pulls out and collapses beside me on the bed, his breathing harsh against my ear. Milo’s hand is still tangled in my hair, gentler now, his thumb stroking my cheekbone, smearing his seed into my skin.

I’m a fucking mess. Coated in them, filled by them.

Every inch of me aches with a satisfying throb.

My throat is raw, my cunt is tender, and my face is sticky, but a profound, bone-deep satisfaction hums through me.

The craving that had gnawed at me for days is finally, blessedly, gone as I collapse on my side. Milo climbs off the bed.

Leone shifts, propping himself up on his elbow, his dark eyes glittering with a possessive triumph as he looks down at me.

"See, amore?" he murmurs, his voice a low rumble.

"This is what happens when you try to replace us.

We just have to remind you who you belong to and how much better we are than any cheap piece of plastic," he says.

Milo grips my chin, turning my face so he can clean it with a wet cloth.

Leone’s hand on my belly moves in slow, soothing circles. "Sleep now, cara," he murmurs, his voice softer now, tender. Milo leans in and presses a hard, brief kiss to my lips, then another to my forehead.