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“Did he push them into your mouth?” Vic asks, surprising me by speaking up. The question sounds neutral and matter-of-fact, even though I know what he’s doing.
“No,” I shoot back. “You know what I mean.”
“How are we supposed to know if you don’t tell us?” Ransom chuckles, leaning over to press a kiss to my neck. “Come on, pretty girl. It’s okay. You can say it.”
I take a deep breath and let it out again, allowing the brush of his lips to settle my nerves and stir the heat in my belly that’s urging me onward. “He pushed his fingers into my… p—”
I get as far as the first syllable before my face heats again.
Malice’s lips curve in a leonine smile as he leans forward. “Into your pussy? Is that what you’re too scared to say?”
“I’m not scared!” I blurt defensively.
“Then say it,” he counters. “Say the word,Solnyshka. Pussy.”
I swallow hard, but something about the way he’s looking at me makes me want to rise to his challenge. Makes me want to prove him wrong if he thinks I’m too delicate or fragile. So I hold his gaze, straightening my shoulders and speaking firmly.
“Pussy.” I drag the word out a little, lingering on every syllable. “He pushed his fingers into my pussy.”
Malice grins, an expression almost like pride passing over his harsh features. He sits back and nods. “Better.”
It’s as if getting over that hurdle makes the rest of it come more easily. I take another deep breath and go back to the dream, picturing it in my mind as I speak. Heat prickles through my veins, and my eyelids droop a little as I get lost in the memories.
“Ransom fucked me with his fingers. It wasn’t gentle, but not hard either. He worked me up and worked me open, and by the time he was done, I was so… I wanted him so bad.”
“Did he make you come like that?” Vic asks, his low voice breaking into my thoughts.
“No. I was close, though. But then he stopped and pulled away, and I remember wanting him to come back. To finish what he started. He ripped the rest of my clothes off and flipped me onto my back. His hands were so rough on my legs as he pulled them open, getting me ready for him. And then…”
My face is on fire, but my body hums with the arousal that comes from remembering the dream and recounting every bit of it. “And then I realized we weren’t alone. I looked up, and you two were there.” I glance between Malice and Victor. “You were just watching, not saying anything. Not touching me.”
“Did you want us to?” Malice asks, his eyes glittering.
My thighs clench, and all I can do is nod.
The more I talk, the more turned on I get. I can feel my body throbbing, my pussy aching for something I can barely even name, despite the fact that I already came so hard tonight that it felt like an out-of-body experience.
But at least I’m not alone. The brothers all seem to be as affected by the story as I am. They’re all hard in their pants, very obviously so, and something about that knowledge makes my own arousal spark higher.
I did that.
They’re hard from listening to me.
From thinking aboutme.
“Ransom fucked me,” I say, my voice getting stronger as I go on. The more turned on I get, the less embarrassment I feel, as if it’s being burned away by the heat of my arousal. “It felt so good, and he just kept going. And you two kept watching, and that added to it. I could feel your eyes on me, feel you watching me like you’re doing now. It felt so wrong for you to see it, but that just made it even better somehow. Like Iwantedyou to see it, even though I shouldn’t. All of it was so much, and just when I was about to come, I woke up.”
The silence that settles in the living room when I finish speaking is so complete that I can hear the honking of a car several blocks away. Malice and Ransom are palming their cocks through their pants, and even though Victor has more control than that, I can see something that looks a lot like desire in his expression.
The tension in the air climbs even higher as the silence drags out for several long beats, and it feels like my words are still hovering between us. I don’t move, I barely even breathe, waiting to see what will happen.
Malice is the one who finally breaks the tension, shattering the quiet.
He’s settled in the large arm chair across from the couch, looking almost like a king on a throne, and he lifts his chin.
“Come here.”
His tone isn’t as harsh as it usually is, but it’s still an order, and my body is moving before I’m even aware of telling my limbs to do it.
