Three

three

Curses, schmurses

The next morning, my body arches in sweet submission as Bez buries himself inside me. His hand trails up my spine until it grabs my nape. “Fuck, you are loosened up so perfectly. My cum is the best fucking lube.”

I can feel every hard inch of his long, warm cock gliding against my walls, making me full, stuffed with him. I welcome the sting from the stretch, enjoying every second of it.

I want this moment to live forever in my brain, pretty please and sodding thank you.

He starts going at a slow pace. Long, lazy strokes—which tells me it’s Gabe fucking me right now—his cockhead hits my prostate every single time he pushes inside me. My eyes cross in bliss.

“It’s been too long since I had my cock in you,” Bez drawls as his thrusts turn harder, rougher. Fuck yes.

I moan. “Mm, it was six hours ago.” I turn my head back to give him a satisfied smirk, smugness filling my voice. Because, crikey, my fiancés are desperate for me just as deeply as I am for them.

I lost count of how many times they came inside me, and so I have no idea how long they fucked me through the night. But I always sleep better with Gabe’s warm, naked body next to me—I say Gabe because he’s the one who likes cuddling. Bez is more the lick-my-bussy-clean-and-conk-out type.

When I woke up a few minutes ago, though, I was wet as fuck and with the tip of his softened cock inside me. He was spooning me from behind, and as I wiggled my hips, a rush of cum slid free. Then the world went upside down, and I found myself pinned on the bed under Bez as his stiffened dick entered me.

All my muscles relaxed as he plunged his long shaft into me with zero resistance from my body. He has already claimed a space inside my heart, the one in my arse followed quickly—or was it the other way around? I tilted my hips up, stretching my thighs wider, making more room for his cock.

“You’re squeezing me so good, Little Wasp. Part those slutty, hot lips and take my fingers.” He taps his fingertips on my lower lip, and I oblige him.

I also mewl, fucking mewl ! My fiancés have turned me into a cat. I’m still feral though. I bite the tip of his finger and suck hard. He makes an approving sound and palms one arse cheek, rubbing a proprietary hand over me, pulling me open.

“How do you like being fucked on both ends?” His filthy mouth is a wet dream come true. I can’t answer him, too busy hollowing my cheeks around his fingers while he fucks my mouth with them. But I send him a scorching look that I think summarizes how much I’m enjoying this.

He rams me harder, fingers digging into my skin, balls slapping into mine. My hand moves toward my dick, but he removes his fingers from my mouth to slap it away.

I hiss at him, but he doesn’t stop the merciless rhythm of his pistoning hips.

Bez growls, but it’s Gabe who pants, “I want you to come only from my cock.” The bossy fucker is a rock star in bed. He continues tugging my body toward his every time he drives his dick inside me, impaling me deliciously, while his lips are on the bruise on my shoulder, brushing the purple skin so delicately.

“Fuck! Ngh, so good! Right there.” I capture his lips. The kiss is sloppy and dirty, but filled with passion and desire. It’s us. I love it.

He pulls back, and then he hammers me to the mattress.

“I’m going to pump you full of my cum as soon as you shoot yours,” Bez states, his hand falling down on my arse, creating a delicious sting. “Fuuuck, this tattoo!” He roars as he spanks my arse cheek again, right on the number five tattoo—their subject number. It’s their mark of possession and the sight of it turns both of them savage every single time.

The fast friction of his shaft inside me is heaven on earth. It starts a hot, twisting sensation inside my guts, and it winds and winds until my vision whites out, and for a moment, that’s all it is. Them. Inside me. All around me. Taking me. Hard.

I scream both their names as I shoot my load on the sheets under me. Soon after, I feel the rush of their cum inside me, and I clench my walls just the way they both like.

“Ahhhh, that greedy hole,” Bez grunts, creaming me good. “Holy shit! This fucking ass, always sucks me so damn fine.” I contract even tighter around him until his last drop.

“Lori!” Gabe groans my name. And I smile, so bloody proud of myself.

He falls on top of me, holding himself on one arm, as his mouth covers my back in wet, open kisses.

His softening cock sliding out of me makes me moan, but Gabe turns us on our sides and runs his thumb over my gaping entrance, dipping inside, soothing the sudden emptiness. He never leaves me empty for long. I sigh contently, savoring the aftermath of our lovemaking. The slurping sounds of his finger pumping shallowly inside me, the sensation of his heavy, spent cock against my thigh, his fragrant skin under my cheek, his strong heart beating against my sweaty back.

I press my thighs together eager to feel the slick of his cum on my skin. I turn into a needy moron when it comes to my men. Needy for their cock, but even more for their nearness. Their acceptance. Their possessive love.

I wink at the little urn pendant on the bedside table. I always give my gran a front row seat to my fiancés’ banging abilities. She was an avid reader of erotica and romance. I’m gifting her a dirty afterlife show in case she feels like visiting me.

The pain of losing her is easier these days, but I came to realize that it will never totally be gone, and it’s exactly how it should be.

Gabe suddenly pulls his thumb out of me. “Lori?” I can clearly hear the smidge of worry in his voice. After months of cohabitation and hours shared together, I can more easily detect some emotions in his eyes, his tone, and his body language.

He told me once that I was the cause of the crack in his control—little ole fabulous me—and I feel bloody pleased about it.

I entangle our fingers together, the diamond on my engagement ring catches the morning light, creating rainbow drops on the white sheet. It reminds me how much I love to see the rubies on each side shine when I jerk off his long cock—it’s an obscene sight that arouses me to the max.

My eyes turn toward Gabe—Bez is probably sleeping again, the lazy sod. His just-orgasmed face is breathtaking, and I can’t resist giving him a long kiss while mussing his blond hair some more.

“’Morning,” I rasp with a bright smile, breathing in his scent greedily. “Your insomnia didn’t pester you last night.”

“My body was exhausted after all the sex,” he states, silver eyes studying me intensely as his thumb rubs my pucker lightly. “Better?”

“Are you referring to the major maggot failure I suffered yesterday for the umpteenth time? Or to my sore tushy?”

He just stares at me with such concentration, I feel like drowning in those gunmetal orbs, like he can read my bloody thoughts. Which is fucking brilliant in bed. Out of it? A terrible nuisance.

“Stop with the Paddington stare, I’m not one of your clients.” I cover his eyes with my hand.

“Lori, tell me,” he insists. He’s using his condescending tone.

I sigh loudly but let him lower my hand to his lips. He gently kisses my palm, and when I keep silent, he gives my thumb a bite.

“Bugger, you’re like a piranha with a piece of fresh meat.”

He cups my cheek. “You will tell me.”

I snort. “Are you attempting at loosening my tongue with the repetition of your words, counselor? I recall you expressing your deep dislike for redundancy.”

His nostrils flare, and his gaze turns blazing; Gabe loves when I speak…lawyer-y to him.

His thumb moves to my lower lip and pries it open, sliding the tip inside. “I’ll have to find a better use for this skilled tongue of yours if you refuse to talk to me.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat? You know bloody well I love to make your dick weep for me.” That makes him growl. Bez is back.

“Tell me, Little Wasp, and I’ll fuck your face hard and rough, just the way you like it.” He speaks like that would be a selfless act for him. He’s lucky I actually love his dick.

I came five minutes ago, but I can feel my balls getting full again. Fuck, it’s not fair. I’m a slut for them, and they know it and use it against me every chance they get. Mastermind wankers.

“It’s…about Gran’s home,” I whisper. He blinks, and I see a hint of affection in Gabe’s eyes.

“I couldn’t set a foot inside her house since she died. And when we went there two weeks ago, it felt surreal. Like time stilled among those four walls. It stayed just the way she left it, down to the open book on the table and the tea kettle on the stove. It was fucking painful not to hear her voice when I passed the threshold, agonizingly so, which made me realize that I will never be able to live there again.” My voice breaks, and suddenly my watery eyes find Gabe’s collarbone very interesting.

I miss so many things about her. Things that are lost forever.

He moves his hand into my hair as he pushes my face against his neck. The warmth of his body is familiar and so damn comforting. I can feel their love slowly penetrating my skin, reaching my heart to fill all the cracks.

“You don’t need to, Lori. We have this apartment, and if you want a different place, we can move.”

I let a small smile brush against his skin. “I don’t want to move. I love this apartment. Wednesday would be heartbroken.” Gabe even built a coop for my hen on the large balcony with a little house and a net to avoid a jump to certain death.

“Then why is she trying to destroy it?” He’s talking about all the holes and scratches she leaves around the apartment.

“It’s her way to express her…fondness.” I look up at him.

“Your face is lighting up with that impish glee… You’re actually proud when she makes a mess.”

“Only because it's fun to see your reaction.” I give his lips a rewarding peck, he always cheers me up, and he does it without even trying. His sole presence and his obsession with knowing everything that’s going on with me make me feel cherished and wanted. It makes my heart warm and my body melt.

“I love you.” I sigh contently. “And I-I know what to do with Gran’s house.”

“What, my love?” he drawls. I’m his love. Me. Hearing him say it turns my limbs into butter.

“You’ll see, but for now, I need to fix this curse matter,” I grumble.

“You aren’t cursed. It’s just a chain of unlucky events.”

I push against his chest and scramble to my knees. “Fuck no! I’m no Wile E. Coyote. I’m cursed!”

“You’re using a pop-culture reference to prove your absurd point.”

I ignore his judgmental tone and count on my fingers the maggots’ unlucky events. “Speargun to the face, electrocution, reindeer attack, death by candy and murderous floor. My life is not a cartoon; it’s a sexy, gory movie. I want to see the blood dripping and the maggots suffering.”

Bez huffs.

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I bothering you with the tragedies of my life?” I clip. My teeth snap at him as I shoot him a look that tells him I’m not sorry at all.

“Self-pity is unbecoming on you,” Gabe’s low, mellifluous voice is dipped in haughtiness. Even his position—one hand behind his head, putting on display his superb, lickable torso, the other scratching his lower abdomen—exudes attention and command.

“Do you feel compelled to list all my flaws all the time?” I hiss. If I punch him with my right hand, my engagement ring will probably leave an imprint on his annoyingly gorgeous face. Like my mark of possession. That’s a nice image.

“Yes. It’s like the itch I get when I don’t kill donors,” he deadpans.

“You mean the itch I make disappear with my mere splendid presence?” I give him a self-contented smirk.

“Lori?”

“Yeeees?” I bat my eyes at him.

“I feel itchy all over now.”

I push hard on his chest. “Conceited, lofty, overbearing, know-it-all dick!”

He grabs my hand and yanks me down until I find myself splayed over him. Then his hand smacks my arse three times and squeezes my tattooed cheek, hard.

I feel like purring at him, but outwardly, I have to keep an indignant front.

“You’ll pay for that,” I hiss.

“Not if you want my tongue inside your ass, Little Wasp.” Bez’s fingers start brushing against my slick entrance. Fuck! I love when he does that.

I drag my nails down his sides and follow the perfect waistline around his stomach, teasing the sexy V there. I feel his abs contract under my fingers as he lets out a rumble before crushing my mouth to his.

Wednesday’s screeching pulls our lips apart. I look toward the door where my black Polish hen is standing. Her red eyes zero in on us as she makes slow and deliberate short steps inside the bedroom.

“She’s hungry.”

“She should get a cockblocker of the year award,” Bez grumbles, squeezing my butt cheeks again, one in each hand. The possessive hold sends a shiver down my back. He loves Wednesday, but fucking me is a sacred occurrence for him. Whoever stops it commits a sacrilege in his eyes.

“She’s not a cockblocker. She likes to watch,” I retort.

“That’s actually hot.” Bez’s reply is soon followed by Gabe’s, “That’s even more disturbing.” Gabe, on the other hand, likes to pretend he dislikes her. Maybe he does. Who knows?

My phone beeps, and I sit, straddling his abs as I take a peek at my phone screen. “Fucking Reacher, I want to bust him open like a pi?ata,” I grumble. He keeps joking about my donors’ deaths on the bros’ chat.

“I regrettably happen to know that Hunter fills Rami’s pi?ata every day, so the contents will be?—”

“Same as mine?” I taunt him, earning a buck of his hips. His cock slides between my cheeks brushing against my entrance in a slow, spine-shivering glide. My enjoyment fades as I glance at the beginning of Rami’s text. “He has another donor for me. Perhaps it’s better if I just push pause for now.”

“Maybe you should.”

My head snaps his way. “I should?” I frown at him. He’s a relentless, unstoppable machine, never letting go until he gets what he wants. That’s how he conquered me. He can’t tell me to let go!

“Listen,” Gabe starts, “I’m a veteran of many battles. Sometimes it’s easier to let the enemy think they've won a small battle while you find a way to win the war. Find. A. Way.”

He tugs my head down and gives me a long, owning kiss before sliding out from under me to go to the bathroom. I pout for a minute. Then I put on the gray suit jacket Gabe left on the chair yesterday, and after feeding my lady, I return to the bedroom. He is in the shower, so I focus on my morning princess beauty routine.

When I’m done, I move toward the walk-in closet and choose his suit for today, like I always do. Burgundy jacket, black vest and pants, black shirt. Sexy and all mine to climb when he comes home tonight from the office.

As I start picking my outfit, Gabe’s words continue echoing in my head. They add to my infinite frustration. How do I win the sodding war?

Then I remember the she-elf’s groveling idea and a plan starts forming in my wicked head.

Gabe comes out of the bathroom naked and ready to be licked. One look at his jacket on me, and I’m forced on my knees and thoroughly face fucked.

Thirty minutes later, I’m sliding the black vest over his shoulders. I like to help him dress. It feels intimate and it makes me happy to take care of him, even in such a small way.

“Come here!” He pulls me in front of him for a kiss. My arse is sore but keeps clenching, looking for his men’s dick. It’s such a greedy whore.

“Starting class at Stafford today with Spencer?” he asks.

“Yeah. It’ll be fun to explore another college.”

“While you check on him don’t let your explorations become a reason for the dean to call me.”

I sniff. I’ll never jeopardize my future as a lawyer—much. Gabe created a scholarship for me and Spencer—more specifically he blackmailed me into accepting it.

He met Spencer when he urged me to move to his apartment a few months ago. The boy is fearless, brave, and tough; it’s impossible not to have a soft spot for him. So Gabe used it against me, forcing me to take the scholarship in exchange of giving one to Spencer as well.

It’s bonkers that I find sexy as hell how crafty he can be.

“I’ll miss you.” I pat his chest.

“You mean you’ll miss my cock.”

“Always, so be ready to give it to me tonight, and take Wednesday out for a stroll if you come back earlier.”

“No,” Gabe simply states.

“I’ll do it.” Bez smiles at me, surely hoping to get me to ride him afterward. Quid pro quo—or as he calls it something for something—is his only MO.

“Thank you, love you both.”

“Behave. Don’t get Spencer in trouble.” Gabe slaps my bare arse before moving to the door.

“It could be the other way around,” I counter.

I hear a derisive snort as he leaves the room.