Page 42 of Ruthless Desires, Vol. One (Ruthless Desires Series Extended Editions #1)

Elliot

Wren sinks into me, smiling. “Yes, please.”

I stroke her back, glancing at Rhett. “Do you want me to tie her up?”

“Hands behind her back,” he tells me. “I want her helpless.”

Wren inhales a shuddering breath, squirming in my lap.

“What do you think about that, love?”

“You can do anything to me,” she whispers. “I trust you.”

Fuck me.

Gently, I ease her onto the bed so she’s laying on her stomach. Then I grab some of my ropes and pull her hands behind her back.

“Tell me if I make them too tight, Wren.”

As I loop the ropes around her wrists, she sighs happily, like she’s been waiting for this all day. Maybe she has. I pull the ropes tight enough that she won’t be able to get free, but loose enough that they won’t cut off her blood circulation.

When I’m finished, I pull her up into a sitting position. “How do they feel?”

She tests them, wiggling a bit. “Good.”

“You’re ready for more? Or do you need another minute?”

Her gaze meets Rhett’s, heated and curious. “I’m good.”

“Then get on your knees.”

She’s about to get up, but he doesn’t really give her a chance. He grabs her, hauling her off the bed and onto the floor. When he forces her to her knees, she yelps in surprise, but when she looks up at him, excitement flashes in her eyes.

Oliver grabs a glass of water that’s on the dresser. He must’ve gotten it while Rhett and I were fucking Wren. Crouching in front of her, he presses the glass to her lips, and she takes a sip. I head into the bathroom, washing my hands, and when I come back out, Oliver is handing the half-empty water glass to Rhett.

“Do you want to know why I didn’t use waterproof mascara on you, princess?” Oliver asks, running his fingers down the bare skin of her arms.

“Because you didn’t have any?” she says, voice trembling.

“Oh, no, princess. It’s because Rhett loves making a mess of whoever he’s fucking. He’s going to have tears and makeup and drool streaming down your face by the time he’s done with you. And you’re going to love it.”

Her reaction is perfect. A hint of nervousness, mixed with the thrill of surrendering herself to another person.

Rhett steps in front of her. “If you need a break, open and close your hands. Elliot will watch you. How does that sound?”

She tries it out, seeing how much room she has to move her hands around. Then she nods.

“Your mouth felt so good earlier, sweetheart. But I’m not going to let you have control this time. You want to be used? I’m going to show you exactly what that means.”

He grips her jaw, forcing it open, before he leans down and spits in her mouth. She swallows it greedily.

“Such a good girl,” he says, and she beams at his words. Then he drags his cock over her bottom lip. “You don’t get any more of my cum, though. That’s for Oliver.”

From where he’s leaning against my dresser, Oliver grins. He’s been waiting patiently, enjoying the show, getting more and more eager by the second.

Wren gags. When I look back, Rhett is holding her hair—which is now completely ruined—with his dick shoved all the way down her throat. He holds her there while she chokes, smiling when tears form in her eyes.

He pulls out and she gasps in a breath, just for it to get cut off by him thrusting into her mouth again. “Fuck, sweetheart. You take my cock down your pretty little throat so well.”

She whimpers as he finds a pace, keeping his thrusts shallow so she gets a little break. I keep an eye on her hands.

You can do anything to me. I trust you.

That’s not a trust I plan on breaking. Fucking ever.

When Rhett forces Wren to take all of his dick again, she chokes. Tears fall onto her cheeks, wetting the mascara and causing it to run.

“You look fucking beautiful like this, sweetheart. My beautiful slut.”

She moans, panting when he pulls out again. Drool coats her chin, and she wears it proudly, her eyes gleaming.

“You like choking on my cock, don’t you?”

With a nod, she opens her mouth and sticks her tongue out, silently asking for more. He doesn’t hesitate, fucking her mouth harder than before. As she takes it, she tries not to gag, but she can’t help it.

Rhett doesn’t stop until her face is soaked, covered in black streaks.

“So perfect,” he says, dropping to his knees and holding her face in his hands. “I never want to forget the way you look right now.”

The expression on her face is so satisfied, so content, you’d think she just came down from an orgasm.

“Thank you, Rhett.”

“Oh, sweetheart. It was my goddamned pleasure.” Grabbing his shirt from the floor, he uses it to wipe the drool from her mouth and chin. He leaves the tears and mascara, though. “Do you need more water?”

“Yes. But let Elliot get it. It’s Oliver’s turn with you.”

For a second, he just stares at her in amazement that she understands. That she’s so willing to share. And honestly, I think it’s how we all feel—about how understanding she’s been with everything.

After a long, slow kiss, Rhett stands. Oliver watches him, arms crossed, relaxed and still leaning against the dresser. Before Rhett all but mauls him, I grab the water glass from behind Oliver.

When I bring it to Wren’s lips, she moans in appreciation, gulping it down. I pull it away from her lips before she takes too much.

“Easy. I think you’ve probably done enough choking for one night.”

She giggles, and then I let her drain the glass, careful not to give her too much water at once. When I pull her up, her legs are a little wobbly, so I help her to the bed.

Her mouth opens in a silent laugh, her gaze fixated behind me. When I turn, I can’t help but smile.

Oliver’s legs are wrapped around Rhett’s waist, who has him pressed against the wall beside my dresser. One of Rhett’s hands is holding Oliver’s ass, and the other has his wrists pinned to the wall above his head.

And… yeah. I don’t even know if you could call what Rhett is doing to Oliver’s mouth a kiss. It’s more like an act of domination, a battle for his fucking soul.

Except Oliver is barely fighting. No, he’s enjoying it too much.

“Oh my god,” Wren says.

I’m not sure what the exact reasons Rhett had for avoiding Oliver all week. Or why Oliver let him do it for this long. If I had to guess, Rhett was probably afraid he wouldn’t be understanding enough if Oliver broke down again—or that he’d trigger the breakdown. Both have happened before.

Who knows? I’m just glad they resolved things before I was driven to locking them in a room together until they fixed it.

For a minute longer, we watch Oliver and Rhett. Then I get on my knees in between Wren’s legs.

“Do you want more, love?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Are you in on this too, now? Seeing how many times I can come in one night?”

I smirk. “Why not?”

When I press a kiss to her inner thigh, she bites her lip against a moan, and her legs spread.

“I need you to use your words, love.”

“I want more,” she whispers.

“Good. Because tasting you is all I could think about while I was watching you dance with Oliver.”

“You were watching?”

“You think Oliver would’ve left you alone if I hadn’t been?”

Realization settles on her features—that we fucking mean it when we say we won’t let a single thing happen to her. I stand, pushing her back onto the bed. She wiggles, her hands still tied behind her back, trying to get comfortable.

“Do you want me to untie you?”

“No. I—I like how it feels.”

Figured you would.

Back on my knees, I give her clit a single lick. “Tell me if it starts to hurt too much.”

Her answer is a moan, because I’m slipping two fingers into her, curling them against her g-spot. I have every intention of taking my time enjoying her, but I have no problem making her come a couple times while I do.

When my tongue circles her clit, she jumps, groaning. Fuck. Half of me wants to gag her, just because I know she’d like it—and so would I—but the noises she makes are so goddamned perfect. I love her screams too much to muffle them.

With my free hand, I reach up to brush the pad of my thumb over one of her pebbled nipples. I can barely reach, but her breath hitching makes it worth it. Then I suck on her clit, and she cries out, her back arching for a second before she collapses onto the mattress.

She’s so sensitive and worked up, she comes so fast I think it surprises even her. I slow my fingers and lick her clit gently, but she still squirms against me.

“Elliot, I need you to stop. Please stop, please.”

I do, pulling my fingers from her.

She relaxes, panting. “Just for a second. Let me recover.”

“Of course, love.” I kiss her thigh. “That was six, right?”

She moans. “I’ve lost count.”

“It’s six,” Rhett says.

“Jesus fuck,” Wren whispers. After a minute, she says, “I’m ready.”

With a hum of appreciation, I dive back in. She yelps, so I lighten the touch of my tongue. My hand snakes back up her side to tweak her nipple, and I splay the other across her lower stomach, pressing down.

“Oh my god. Fuck, Elliot, ohhhh.”

I alternate between massaging her clit with my tongue and sucking it into my mouth. She tastes sweet, mixed with something salty, that—if I had to guess—I’d say is probably Oliver’s cum leaking out of her.

“Elliot, it feels so good. You feel so… fuck.”

I groan into her, lapping her up. Ever since we revealed our plan to her and she just accepted it, accepted us, I’ve needed to bury myself in her. Lose myself in her.

It all feels too fast, I suppose. There are only a couple people we’ve ever trusted with our true feelings toward Ludo. And letting Wren in so quickly was a huge leap of faith to take.

But she didn’t let us down. After Tuesday, I knew she wouldn’t.

“Elliot,” she cries. And then she’s coming again, her screams more sob-like than anything else.

My tongue leaves her clit, instead stimulating the skin right next to it. It does exactly what I want it to, drawing out her orgasm until her body is trembling like a leaf.

Seven.

When I pull away, her eyes are closed, and I’d think she was asleep if she wasn’t muttering, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” under her breath.

She looks peaceful and sated. But it’s disturbed when Rhett shoves Oliver onto the bed next to her. He’s on his stomach, grinning at Wren, eyeliner smudged.

“Hi, princess.”

“Hi,” she breathes.

Oliver reaches out to touch her face, and when his fingers feather over her lips, she presses a kiss to them.

“Mine,” Rhett snaps, snatching his hand away and pinning it to Oliver’s back.

With a snicker, Oliver whispers, “He can get a bit possessive during sex. You’ll probably want to remember that.”

She giggles.

I grab the lube and hand it to Rhett without him even having to ask. He pulls Oliver up so his ass is in the air and starts prepping him.

Standing, I squeeze Wren’s thigh. “How are your arms, love?”

“Good.” Then her eyes widen as she notices that I’m hard again.

“I can stop if you need me to. It’s not a problem at all.”

“No, I want to keep going. For… a bit longer.”

“You’re sure?”

“Mmhmm.”

Oliver groans into the mattress. Rhett is fucking him with his fingers while still pinning his wrists to his back.

“I’m going to take your ass again, love.”

I grab the lube from Rhett, squirting some on my fingers. Then, gently, I stretch Wren again, wanting to make sure she’s ready. Her tiny whimpers shoot straight to my dick. Still, I take my time, not wanting to rush this. Rhett does the same.

When I finally slide into Wren, I use my clean hand and slip two fingers into her vagina. She groans, clenching around me, and it’s so goddamned tight.

“Is this what you wanted all night? Huh?” Rhett taunts. He has his dick just barely inside Oliver.

“Longer than that, and you know it,” Oliver groans. “Don’t tease me.”

With a smirk, Rhett slides all the way in. “Fuck,” he groans.

“Yes. Exactly. Fuck me. Now.”

“So bossy,” Rhett complains, smacking Oliver’s ass. But he listens, pulling out before thrusting back in.

“Look at us, Wren. Getting the hell fucked out of us, together.” Oliver winks at her, mischief sparking in his eyes. “I’d kiss you if I could reach you.”

Rhett smacks his ass again, and Oliver’s entire face lights up with laughter. “Focus on me or I’ll stop.”

“He won’t,” Oliver whispers.

He doesn’t. But Oliver also shuts the hell up, which is probably best for his ass cheeks.

Wren moans when I go harder. I can’t help it. The sight of Rhett fucking Oliver is too hot.

Rhett comes first, which is no surprise considering how long he fucked Wren’s mouth for.

“Oliver,” he grits out, grabbing onto his hips. As his thrusts die off, his eyes slide closed, and his head drops to his chest.

For a minute he stays like that, working to regain his composure. Oliver tries to look back at him, but he really can’t with his head pressed into the mattress, so he watches Wren instead.

That is, until Rhett pulls out and flips Oliver onto his back. He’s on him in a split second, kissing Oliver like he’ll die if he doesn’t. Then, standing, he grabs Oliver’s legs and yanks him to the edge of the bed.

As Rhett lowers himself to his knees, I freeze. It’s not often that he puts himself in this position, kneeling for someone. It’s too vulnerable for him, reminds him too much of things he’d prefer to never remember.

The same thoughts must be going through Oliver’s head, because he’s sitting up and shaking his head. “You don’t have to—”

Rhett cuts him a sharp look. “Do you want to finish or not?”

That shuts Oliver right up. His eyes roll into the back of his head when Rhett’s fingers encircle the base of his cock, licking it before taking it into his mouth.

I groan at the sight. And then I remember that I’m still inside of Wren. When I turn, she’s smiling up at me patiently, probably grateful for the chance to catch her breath.

I pick up my pace again, pressing my fingers into her walls as well. Her breasts bounce every time I slam into her, and her eyes turn foggy. She’s drowning in the sensations, in the emotions, in all of us.

When I press my thumb to her clit, she comes undone almost immediately. Her back arches as her hips jerk, trying to find relief from my touch.

“Too sensitive,” she cries.

I pull my hand away, and she groans in relief, sagging into the bed. She’s well and truly used up and limp, just like Rhett promised she would be.

“Eight,” I say, but I’m not sure she hears me.

From there, it doesn’t take long before I come again. It hits me so hard that all I want to do is collapse onto the bed on the other side of Wren. But I need to get her out of the ropes first. So after I give myself enough time that I can see straight again, I sit on the bed, pulling her up.

When her hands are free, she rolls her shoulders and wrists, beaming at me. “Thank you.”

“Of course, love.” I kiss her lightly.

“Fuck. Fuck, Rhett.” Oliver throws his head back as he finishes in Rhett’s mouth, gripping the blankets. Rhett swallows every drop of cum Oliver gives him, licking his lips when he’s done. Before he stands, he presses a kiss to Oliver’s thigh.

The four of us look at each other, breathless and dazed. That was… well, I think Wren sums it up the best when she says, “Holy fuck.”

Oliver snickers. “If you think a single thing we just did was holy, we did something wrong.”

She’s too tired to laugh, but she smiles. “If it sends me to hell, I’ll go gladly.”