Page 69 of My Ex's Billionaire Brothers

“Of course,” Hunter says as he pulls his shirt over his head. “Nothing to forgive.”

But Gage holds a hand out to stop Hunter from jumping onto the bed, his stare stern at Anya. “On one condition.”

Her throat works a gulp down. “Anything.”

“Calvin had some bullshit opinions about you.”

“He did?—”

“So, when you sell that ring of his, you have to buy something that’ll piss him off with the money.”

Anya laughs. “I already know what I’m going to buy with it.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

Those mesmerizing blue eyes flash as she grins. “A private detective to take pictures of the two of them. He’ll send the pictures to Brenna’s husband for me.”

“You’re doing her husband a favor, and pissing off Calvin at the same time? You’re perfect.” I growl and nuzzle her throat. Never thought revenge would do it for me, but somehow, that plan makes her more attractive.

Or maybe it’s that I feel her heat on me.

I don’t know how it starts. But soon, the four of us are all naked and on that bed. It takes some balancing—queen-sized mattresses are not made for four people. But soon, Anya is on her back with Hunter holding her hands over her head, and Gage and I at her thighs, each of us grasping that soft flesh to keep them spread open for our viewing pleasure. Her view, however, is blocked by a wayward pair of panties Hunter found in her suitcase.

Her tits call to my mouth, round and heavy. I long to taste her there again. That ample belly, a plush headrest. Her pussy glistens in the low light. She’s a goddess, ready for worship from her three acolytes.

Gage and I take turns playing with her pussy. Nothing that’ll get her off, just a stroke here and there. Making her squirm for us. Fuck, her nipples are hard enough to cut diamonds. And those moans? Ecstatic.

“Please,” she begs prettily.

Hunter strokes his thumb over her bottom lip. “But you look so good bound by us. You want us to stop?”

She whimpers for an answer, though that might be because I’m rubbing my fingers around her clit and not touching her there directly. Her hips jostle, hunting down her pleasure.

I fucking love that. She might not know what she wants, but her body certainly does. I nod toward her, and Gage understands, leaving her thigh to my other hand so I can take position between her legs. I need a taste.

She violently sucks air into her lungs the moment I suckle her clit. “Fuck!”

We must have gotten her fired up properly for that to fly out of her mouth. Good.

Her body rocks to meet my mouth, and I spear two fingers into her while I work her clit over. I need her to come. Need to taste it, smell it, feel it. To get lost in her pleasure. I slow my kisses. Deeper. Softer. Her body flows with mine, the two of us in our own little world right now. The quiet before the storm.

Strange. All of this is, of course, but at the moment, nothing else makes sense. Only here and now. Only Anya. The idea of being tied to one woman no longer makes my throat close. She’s it. She’s the one.

When she erupts on my mouth and chin, it’s a living miracle. Her body stutters against me, shaking, flexing, locking. Her pussy grips my fingers tight in a pulse until she finally breathes again. Every breath, a heave or a gasp.

Without warning, she takes a grip of my hair and pulls me toward her up the bed until I’m lying on top of her gorgeous body. Must have escaped Hunter’s hold. She belts her legs around me, pulling me in as she kisses her taste off my lips. One push into her, and then she’s everywhere.

I capture her groan in my mouth, feel her still twitching through the throes of her orgasm. But I won’t be denied this by my overzealous cock. I slow things down once more, leaning to the side to flick her nipple with my tongue as I languidly thrust, each one patient and thorough.

I’m committing this night to memory. Every delicious sigh, every caress of that silken skin. I want to savor her like the finest wine. Let her sounds mark my soul.

Her hips roll with mine, wringing pleasure from all angles. I push deep and hard, determined to know her in every sense of the word. What are words anyway? None of them can name what I feel. Momentous is too small.

It’s deeper. Profound. She makes me want to study a new language, in case they have the right word for it. But all I can choke out between our kisses and bites is, “Anya.”

Her arms loop around my neck, her thighs close to crushing me between them, when I feel it. The rush of her body, the familiar milking of my cock. She cries out in my mouth, and her power takes me with her as she makes me come too. I could never deny her a thing, not even this.

My head spins, caught up in the moment. But I’m not done with her yet. Still hard for now, and I’m going to use it. I roll us over, her on top. Our mingled fluids pour out between us, and I don’t care. Sign of a job well done.