Page 86 of Raise Me Up

Pressure builds in my spine at how wrecked they both look already. We’re going to have to work on our endurance.

Keeping my strokes short and deep, I move a hand to Stasi’s pussy, applying pressure with my palm as my fingers circle her clit. I know she’s close when her body coils up.

“Come for us, precious,” I murmur, biting her neck.

Her strangled cries on Beau’s cock have his hips stuttering. I hold her head as their orgasms rip through them. The thought of her swallowing him down has my balls tightening up. I slam into her one last time before I spill.

“Fuckkk. That was…Stasi, sweetheart, are you okay?” Beau asks, taking her face in both of his hands.

She manages a weak nod while I free the knots binding her wrists. Beau’s there to catch her wrung out body in his arms. He’s entirely capable of giving her the aftercare she needs.

I hate that I wasn’t able to give him that in the past.

Then again, he typically passed out cold after I’d had my way with him, allowing me to slip out like a ghost.

Beau carries her from the closet as I stow away the rope. I hear the splash of water in the tub I’ve never used and question whether or not to intervene on their time together.

What do I bring to the table besides sex?

About to sneak off to the guest room to shower, Beau appears in front of me. He attempts to scoop me up bridal style. I chuckle at his pathetic efforts.

Finally giving up, he reaches for my hand and interlocks our fingers. “We need you.”

Something itches in my chest as I let him pull me into the bathroom. Stas is sitting in the half-filled tub, arms wrapped around her bent knees, and those big brown eyes tinged with sadness that wasn’t there moments ago.

Well, that won’t fucking do.

Switching into protective mode, I step into the tub. Hot water laps at my skin as I draw her between my legs, resting her against my chest.

“We’ve got you, angel,” I murmur, petting her hair.

Beau nestles himself behind her, peppering her shoulders and neck with delicate kisses.

“Too much tonight?” I ask.

She’s quiet for a while, tracing light circles on my pec with her fingers. “No.”

“You’re always in control, you know that? Even if you want to pretend you’re not.”

“I know, Liam. I trust you. I promise.”

“Then talk to me. Why are you sad?”

She tucks her head beneath my chin to hide. I wrap my arms around her shoulders and hold her.

Is she lying about being pushed over the edge? It wouldn’t be the first time she’s shoved aside concern for herself to please others.

Beau’s eyes meet mine, shimmering with concern. “Baby, you can talk to us.”

“Yeah,” she whispers, nodding. “I liked what we did. More than I should, I think. I’ve not felt…good with others like I do with either of you. I’ve not felt like any of what I wanted…sexuallywas normal.”

Anger sparks in my chest. “Did someone say that bullshit to you?” I demand.

Her fingernails press into my skin, and then she taps her forehead against my collarbone a couple of times like she needs to regulate herself. “It’s in the past. Kids in college were assholes. I thought they were friends. Turns out a few of them shared things about me. Private things. I got labeled. I believe the correct term is slut shamed.”

My temper flares. “Is that why you transferred schools?”

“And switched majors. Obviously, I don’t regret it now, but at the time I hated myself for running away. I let them get to me.”