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Chapter 17

17

LINCOLN

L ogan's words hang in the air like a noose ready to choke us all, yet instead of carnage, outrage, wrath or death, there is nothing but pure tension-filled silence. Logan leans with his palm flat against the felt of the table, as if I need the visual of where I get to fuck him if I win, but my focus lies with Asher. He hasn't moved, not an inch, as if Logan's words have rendered him completely immobile. Yet that's not what has my attention, it's his words from the flight, the story he told of his past and sexual experience. The things he endured that he probably hasn't even let himself admit or truly feel. He was forced to fuck and somehow hates himself for it, and despite Logan and I pushing his boundaries, I know he knows that we would never take it too far.

You'd have to be naive to believe anyone could ever control or force Asher Donovan to do anything he doesn't want to do again. So, why isn't he leaving? Why haven't Logan's taunts and playful demands sent him running back to his room?

I flick my gaze back to Lo and I see him watching him with curiosity too, like he is also wondering why he hasn't left, and once again I think back to what he told me on the plane. Did he tell me that because he felt like he had to, because I kept asking quest ions? Or did he tell me that because he needed me to know and understand, and keep pushing his boundaries anyway? My eyes take Asher in again, and it's only now that I realize it isn't tension radiating off him, it's desperation, and it fuels me like nothing ever has before.

"Game on," I purr, trailing my stare across them both, before I bend down and line up my first shot.

My cue crashes into the white ball, sending it spiraling into the others as they spread out rapidly across the table, two of them finding a place in the corner pocket and picking my choice of balls for me. Logan curses beside me, realizing I am quite comfortable with a cue in my hand. I guess I forgot to tell him about the foster home that had a pool table out back. Jace and I played on that thing for hours almost daily when we were fifteen, before our cocks took our attention and led us elsewhere.

I manage to pot a third ball, before Logan steps in to take his first turn, and the game is pretty evenly matched, his skill not far from my own. One thing I have learned over the years however, is that rich boys never play dirty. They think their money is enough to grant them everything they need, but when you grow up with nothing, you learn the only way to get anything is to take it.

When he lines up to take another shot, I slip off my suit jacket and begin rolling up my sleeves, my stare holding his. I let the lust and anticipation of fucking him ignite me, and I know the second he sees it because he falters, and misses the ball he was aiming for.

"I should have known you liked to play dirty." His voice has that dark edge to it that only comes out when he is turned on, and I can't help but smirk as I stalk around the table slowly toward him.

"I thought you already knew exactly how dirty I liked it," I muse, my hand closing around his throat and pulling him in slowly until his lips are pressed against my own. He moans into my mouth, allowing me to slip my tongue against his until I can feel his erection pressing against my own, and only then do I release him. "Seems when I win this game, I'll have to remind you." I bend down, sinking another ball, much to his dismay, and when I look back to Ash, his eyes are burning into us.

He still hasn't moved, not an inch, that now half full bottle still gripped in his fist like if he lets it go, this whole thing will fall apart. Fuck. He really wants this, and for the first time ever, I let myself truly want it too.

Focusing back on the game, we take our turns until we only have one ball left, and the tension is so thick you can almost taste it. Logan keeps tossing barbs and taunts my way, but hasn't once addressed Ash since we started, like he doesn't want to spook him, and when I step up to take my shot, I know the game is about to be over, but I'm just not sure who is going to win what.

They both watch as I sink the black ball into the hole with ease, effectively ending the game and announcing myself as the winner. The unnamed tension in the room only grows, as I let my cue fall to the ground, the sound of it echoing into the silence of the room.

"I win."

My mouth is on Logan's before he can even respond, pushing him back into the table with a hard shove until I can lock him into place. I hear a sharp intake of breath from behind me and I fucking groan at the sound of it, devouring Logan's mouth like it's the last thing I will ever taste under Asher's watchful glare.

I push my hands into his hair and tilt his head until I can claim his mouth in the way I like, getting off on the way he follows my every silent demand. His hands are on my hips, pulling me against him like he is desperate to feel every inch of me, like I wasn't on my knees for him and inside of him less than a fe w hours ago, but like me, his need never lessens. Our tongues battle for the dominance that only I will ever possess, before my teeth sink into his bottom lip and pull until I taste that sweet coppery tang that has me addicted to him.

Logan Royton was a distraction from the war that has now become a crutch I won't survive without, and fuck does he taste good, especially as mine.

When we pull apart, I look deep into his eyes and nod. It's quick, and sharp, and only once, but that's all it takes to spur him into action. He pushes me back slightly and drops to his knees between me and the table, tugging at my belt like a man possessed, as my hard on begs to be freed.

I turn my head towards Ash, his sole focus on Logan at my feet, as he unfastens my pants and reaches inside, pulling out my already leaking cock. WIthout pause Logan locks the base of my cock in a firm grip before licking the underside from root to tip, flattening his tongue and dragging it over the full length of me, before swirling it around my tip. Pre cum soaks his tongue as he does it again, slower and wetter, drenching my cock in his spit until I am shuddering.

"Fuck, baby," I groan, tipping my head back as he paints my cock with his tongue, before gently sucking on my crown. "That feels so fucking good," I praise, just as he takes me deep to the back of his throat in a way he knows I love, drawing out a deep, pleasured groan from my lips. "You know just how to suck me," I add, rolling my hips to force myself deeper.

His mouth feels unreal, sucking me so fucking perfectly that it takes everything I have to not cum down his throat right there, our audience be damned. Yet still I let him continue, gripping his head in my hands and fucking his mouth until he is gagging and spluttering around my length.

"That's it, choke on me, Lo, I know you fucking love gagging on my cock," I grit, earning a sloppy and eager moan around my length, as my words wash over him.

When I look back at Ash, he doesn't even notice my stare, his gaze is still fixed on Logan's head, as he bobs back and forth on my cock, completely disarming me. His hands are now gripping his thighs so tight that he might just fucking bleed, and it makes me wonder how far I have to go before he snaps completely.

The challenge lights my skin on fire as I reluctantly push Logan off and drag him up, slamming my lips back against his, and tasting my pleasure across his mouth. Our tongues dance together as I make quick work of freeing his own cock, and he pulls back to watch my hand engulf him, moaning at the sight and feel of me against his skin.

Lining our cocks together I stroke them both, using Logan's spit and our pre cum as lube, jerking us tightly and roughly until we are both panting, and with my eyes on his, I make sure my voice carries as I gasp, "Last chance."

My words are meant for only one person, and it isn't him, as both of our stares dance across the room to the sofa where Ash sits, but he doesn't even look up, his eyes zoned in on my fist as I stroke both mine and Logan's cocks with slippery ease. None of us seem to care that anyone could walk in and find us like this, not when this moment is finally happening, not when we have him exactly where we want him.

Not wanting to wait another second, I rip my hand away from our cocks and push Logan back against the table, only this time, I do it hard enough that he falls on it a little. Then I give him another shove until he is completely on top of it, pulling at his pants until I can rip them off, as I command, "Strip."

Logan quickly discards his suit jacket and shirt, before he pulls me in for another kiss, but my cock is screaming to be inside him. I slam him back against the table until he is lying down and then spit on my fingers until they are coated completely in my saliva, before reaching down and pushing two of them in side his ass. He curses at the rough intrusion, even though he is used to it, biting his lip as his fingers curl around the edge of the table, while mine pump in and out of him, as I stretch him ready for my cock.

Asher still hasn't moved, and I can feel his heated gaze on us from across the room, so silent that I'm not sure he is even taking a breath. Yet Logan is panting and pleading beneath me, as my heart pounds against my ribs at the situation I have found myself in.

"Lincoln, please," Lo moans, snapping my attention back to him, and the sight of him begging is my undoing.

"You know I fucking love it when you beg for me, baby."

Ripping my fingers from his ass, I line up my cock, not pausing for a second before I am slamming inside and hissing at the fucking glorious tightness of his ass, as it swallows me whole. I pull back and enter him again, not allowing him time to adjust to my size before I pick up the pace and begin to fuck him hard and fast, in an attempt to ease the fucking desperate, carnal ache inside of me.

I look back at Ash and see his grip has moved closer to his groin, like he is desperate to touch himself, but he doesn't know how, or maybe even why.

Asher Donovan spends his whole life in control, just the way he likes it, just the way I like it, but sometimes you have to submit to your deepest, darkest desires to really know the pleasures of life.

"Take your cock out," I demand, startling him as my voice booms across the room, with the only other sounds coming from Logan's pleasured sighs and moans, as I slow down my fucking him.

For the first time since this started, Asher's gaze finally meets mine and I see the usual defiant glare that constantly dances in his stare, but I also see something else. Fear? Anger? Desire? Possessio n?

He wants to refuse me, he wants to fight me, fight this, but even worse than that, he wants to listen to me. He wants to give in, he wants us, he wants this, no, he needs this, and I'm going to take great pleasure in being the one to give it to him.

"Asher," I groan, drawing my cock all the way out of Logan until only the tip of me is left inside of him. "Take. Your. Cock. Out." I pronounce each word with a thrust of my hips into Logan's ass, as he moans my name, but my focus remains on the dark and unattainable prince of our nightmares.

When I pause my movements he whines, tilting his head to the side until his eyes can meet Asher's. "Come on my little psycho, submit to him, just this once, I dare you."

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