Page 81 of Three Pucking Ex's Brothers

As if his mouth on mine wasn’t real enough…

“Can I askyousomething?” he says.

I nod, feeling on the spot.

His hands settle on my waist and he tugs my sweater. “Can I look at you?”

It’s the way he says the words. The way he asks. He doesn’t command me to do it. Doesn’t tell me to take my clothes off. He askspermission.Tolook at me.Like I’m something special and worthy of worship.

And for the first time, I feel the weight of those words. The adoration they carry.

This…this isn’t just some rainy evening hookup after I sent him a dirty picture.

Not for Freddie, and certainly not for me.

Thismeanssomething to him.

To be able to ask my permission.

To give the power to me.

“Yes,” I say, feeling the heat of those words, of my permission. “Yes, you can look all you want,” I tell him, breathlessly.

Freddie slowly lifts my sweater, and I hold my arms up, letting him pull it over my head. I’m acutely aware of how on display I am, that he can see every curve and roll and every unflattering angle upfront and personal.

I half wait for him to make some comment about my weight like Brett used to do these past few months, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes his time and looks at me. Intently.

His gaze is slow. Intense.

It makes me feel more vulnerable than I felt when I learned I’d sexted my ex and his three hockey player brothers.

“And you can touch me all you want too,” I tell him, my voice shaking slightly. His mouth finds mine once more, and I whisper, “However you want me, Freddie, I’m yours.”

Maybe it’s foolish. Maybe it’s the worst decision of my life.

But maybe, just maybe, it’s not. Because the minute I say those words, I feel ten times lighter. I’ve spent so long giving, I think I’ve forgotten what it truly feels like to receive.

Freddie holds my hips gently as he kisses me, and he leans me back into the comforter. Gently. He handles me like I’m made of glass, and though it should piss me off, it doesn’t. It only makes me crave more.

I look up at him as he lets go, kneeling back on his heels again, and this time I get a good look at his cock—which is poking out of his boxers.

My gaze flashes right to his pink head, and I gasp, and he smirks as he takes it in his hand.

“Like what you see, princess?” he asks, and I nod.

“I want to see more,” I say without a second thought.

Freddie chuckles. “Is that so?”

I nod, not taking my eyes off his cock.

“Well, what my princess wants, she gets,” he says, and with that he slowly slides his boxers off, giving me an ample show. My heart races in my chest as I realize Freddie Sterling is naked. In my bed.

Well, my brother’s guest bedroom bed to be exact, but that’s just details.

I look him over, committing the sight to memory as I take him in. Dark, wet hair. Deep, forest-green eyes. Hard muscles and perfect tan complexion. And his cock is…

Fuck, he’s gleaming with precum.