Raffi chuckles. “They’re talking about all your eye-fucking.”
Tori tenses under my legs, but when I catch her eye she gives me that “Don’t say a word” glare she’s perfected. If she thinks I’ve forgotten that she owes us an explanation for all things Raffi, she’s wrong. Some people might forget a woman dumping a drink all over a guy’s head in a bar, but we aren’t those women. She’s not talking, though. So whatever it is, it must be bad.
If nothing else, they’re sitting in the same room and she hasn’t dumped anything over his head or smashed his face into something.
But I suppose the night is still young.
How long is an acceptable length of time to let your friends hang around your apartment to discuss a book when there’s a low, heavy, and demanding ache between your legs? Asking for a friend.
The longer this night takes to wrap up, the more uncontrollable I feel.
Apollo barely gets the door closed behind our last visitor when I launch myself at him, vaulting into his arms. He staggers backward against the door, cupping my ass, squeezing my cheeks with hungry palms.
“I’ve... wanted... agh. All fucking night.” I pant out the words between kisses, and his answer is that rumbling chuckle that warms me all the way to my toes.
He flips us, so my back is against the door and grinds against me, pressure building between my thighs. He’s refusing to kiss my mouth, and only letting me kiss his jaw, or cheek, playfully turning his head away from me any time I try to strike.
Fucker has provoked me all night. Maybe it’s time to tease him a little back. Canting my head, I make a “hm” sound.
He pulls back. “¿Quehm?”
“I was just thinking. I’m not sure your dick is going to be enough for me tonight.”
He bristles so hard I slip a little in his arms. “Is that so?” His voice is low with a gravely undercurrent.
I nod, barely containing a shuddering giggle. “I hear you and Artemis... you know...” I lick my lips. “Share sometimes.”
His body slams against me with such force my head bumps the door. “No.”
“No, you don’t share women with your brother sometimes?”
The animalistic growl that comes out of my man is enough to make my toes curl. “No, I don’t shareyouwith my brother.”
“But—”
His lips are on mine with ferocious intensity. His teeth tear at my lips as his fingers find the band of my pants and start working them down my thighs.
“No.”
“But—”
He slides me to my feet before curling his hand around my throat, bracing me against the door. I soaked my panties. This is going way better than I could have anticipated.
My nipples are cutting through my bra, my pussy tingles with anticipation... How far I can push him before he all-out snaps?
He puts his lips close to my ear as he flexes his fingers around my throat. “Princesa, if you want to be fucked by more than one guy at a time, we’ll talk about it. We’ll find someone together, but it will not, and I can’t emphasize this enough, it willnotbe my brother.Sí?”
The heat in his eyes is enough to melt my clothes off. His chest is heaving, he’s panting with physical restraint.
I can’t help but grin at him, and that’s what makes him snap. Before I can blink, he’s crouching at my feet, pulling off my pants and panties. When he stands, he lifts me over his shoulder and carries me to the couch. I’m barely back on my feet when he shoves my panties in my mouth, grinning at me.
He folds me over the back of the couch and runs his already bare cock through my wetness. “I thought we were clear on who you belonged to,princesa.”
Wiggling my hips, I moan into the fabric, desperate for him to give me what I need. If I flail much more I could hit the coffee table and send yet another vase of brightly colored fresh flowers sailing onto the floor.
“Ah, ah, ah. No dick until you tell me who this pussy belongs to.”
When I don’t spit out my panties, and instead choose to stay silent, he shunts me further over the back of the couch, ass in the air, and spreads my legs. “Tell me, Edie. Tell me who this perfectly pink little cunt belongs to or there will be consequences.”
