Page 51 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

Emerson chuckled darkly and leaned his head back against the door, eyes slanted down to hold Adra’s gaze as he continued speaking, throat bobbing with each word.

“Imagine if she was right here, between us.” His voice was little more than a whisper. “Her fingers wrapped around us instead of yours.”

Odd huffed. “She’d have to use two hands. Like when she sings and—”

“And she holds the mic.” Em swallowed, as if he hadn’t considered it.

“Keep going,” he prompted, leaning in to run his lips up Em’s throat, the coarse hair of his beard rough against his kiss.

Heat simmered in his lower back, making him tighten his hand around them, stroke a little faster. But instead of his own hand, he felt Lyric’s lithe fingers wrapped around them.

“We’d tower over her, like when we were dancing.”

Odd floated in the web of the scene Emerson spun. Her long, wavy hair tangled between them, her soft skin brushing against theirs. Her touch. Her scent.

“I want her,” Adra growled, confessing his sin in Em’s flesh, muffling the words into his throat, but not the desire. As he admitted it aloud, it flamed hotter, and he couldn’t stop the whispered admissions. “I want her here, between us. I want her in her nest, I wanted her in the goddamned practice room that very first day. And—”

“How?” Emerson asked on a powerless breath. “How do you want her?” Em knocked his hand away and took over. “Tell me.”

Another moan crawled out of his throat as he unleashed the tight hold on his desire, slamming his hands into the wall on either side of Em’s head and nipping at the underside of his jaw sharply. Maybe too sharply, but there was no complaint.

“I just want… I want to taste her while she squeezes my head with her thighs, and then I want you to suck her taste from my tongue.” Odd lifted his head to lick across the seam of Emerson’s lips, and his rhythm faltered before he squeezed harder and stroked them to the cadence of his confessions.

“I want to fuck both of you at once. For my thrusts to send you deeper inside her.”

Emerson moaned, his cock jumping against Adra’s in the tight grip. He nodded, slamming his eyes shut and banging his head into the wall. Adra went for his throat again, pushing his shirt up and thumbing the hard peaks of his nipples, a sensitive area he’d learned long ago.

“I want to learn her as well as I know you. What makes her breath catch and her moans loud, and what makes her wet. For us.”

“For us,” he echoed, rolling his head to the left. Adra lapped at his neck, his stormy scent seeping in, and even though it wasn’t Lyric, it was Emerson, and Odd could get drunk off him too. Especially with his hand moving like that and the pictures far too vivid in Odd’s mind.

“I want her to come apart around you—”

“Fuck.”

“So I can feel you lose your damned mind.” Odd ran his palms down his sides, slipping his hands into the back of his waistband and shoving his pants to his feet. He took two handfuls of his ass and kneaded them as he spoke, arching his back away to make room for his fist working their cocks. Emerson stuck one hand between them to rake his shirt up, baring Odd’s chest.

“Feel this ass clench around me while you empty into her. Our scents mingling until we can’t tell one from the other. Marking her—” He grunted, squeezing tighter as the orgasm barreled down his spine, Emerson’s fist stroking quick and hard. Precum dripped from the heads to make the glide slick and hot and filthy. His fingers tightened around their bases—around the knots growing harder and making his spine tingle.

A groan clawed its way out of his throat as Emerson grabbed the hem of his tee and shoved it between his teeth, locking it out of the way as he gripped both their knots together with one hand and stroked them hard with the other.

“Fuck—” Emerson panted.

Pleasure struck him like lightning, arcing up and down his spine as their chaotic breaths and muffled moans filtered through the apartment. He couldn’t mark Lyric, couldn’t be with her in the same way he was letting his imagination run wild—but the visions, the confessions were enough.

He blew out a breath, releasing the shirt from between his teeth, and reached up to grasp a fistful of Em’s hair, tilting his neck to the side. He bit down on the packed flesh between Em’s neck and shoulder, and his strokes stuttered as he came. Emerson’s cock jerked against his as come pelted Adra’s stomach and the side of his arm where he dug his nails into his ass.

As his teeth marked Emerson’s neck, Adra jerked into the slack grip with another confession, this one silent.

He wanted to bite Lyric.

Heat rushed over him as he came, come spilling over Em’s fist and coating their stomachs.

Odd’s jaw went lax and he dropped his forehead to Emerson’s shoulder, gulping air down like it was going out of style.

“Fuck, man,” Emerson breathed.

“I know,” Adra rasped weakly.