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Both of his hands hold my breasts, and he kneads and teases them. The touch is so soothing after everything.
Brady is fuming at the edge of the island, but he doesn’t toss any venomous looks or words in my direction. He takes his punishment as well as any alpha can, with gritted teeth and promises to get retribution.
But if his revenge includes making me scream his name when I finally forgive him, I can’t wait until we collide.
“Come on, baby, let’s go lie down.” Austin sets the toy on a towel to dry.
I don’t think I can walk without falling down.
“I don’t want to move,” I mumble.
“I’ll carry you and then order Chinese.”
“You always threaten me with food,” I growl, sitting up. Dylan’s hands fall away from my body. I don’t like that, but we can’t stay on the counter forever. I crawl over the counter, avoiding the massive wet spot of slick and cum that still needs to be cleaned.
“That’s because I know how to take care of you,” Austin says, reminding me of the promise of Chinese food. “And I know you deserve more than a cold counter for aftercare.”
Dylan bites my ass, and I whimper, too spent to do anything but toss a useless, “Stop it,” in his direction.
Austin tries not to smile, but I see it.
Assholes. Both of them. Wonderful. Orgasm-giving, pussy-destroying, throat-fucking assholes. Even I know I’m not mad. I love Dylan’s teasing. I love the careful way Austin helps mestand. I love the cum that rushes out of me and coats my skin, marking me with his scent.
A tiny, contented sigh slips out of my mouth. “We made a mess.”
Austin cups the back of my neck and draws me against his body. “Yes, we did,” he murmurs before gently kissing me. “Let’s clean you up a little, so we don’t make a mess on the couch.”
Dylan and Austin work together, using warm wash cloths to clean me. Brady watches them have everything he can’t.
“Brady can clean up the counter,” Austin says once they’re done.
My eyes widen, but Austin gives me a stern look, telling me not to argue. I’d planned on torturing the alpha by making him watch, but making him clean up after us? That’s cruel.
“I’ll bring you guys blankets first,” Brady says.
Blinking, I look at him, checking for horns or wings or something crazy. Did I just hear Brady agree to clean up and bring us blankets? What fucking planet am I on?
He leaves the room, and Austin kisses me again before whispering, “He’s trying,” against my lips.
Dylan slips his shirt over the top of my head. He’s so much bigger than me that it hits the middle of my thighs, but I love the whisper of fabric against my skin. I love how perfect it smells and feels.
We make our way to the movie room and settle in on the large sectional, leaving the longer cushion for Brady. I tuck my feet under myself and yawn as Austin sifts through various movie options. Since I’ll probably fall asleep, I end up agreeing to some action movie with The Rock in it. At least there will be eye candy, along with the bloodshed.
Dylan runs his hand over my thigh and gets as close as he can without sitting in my lap. I stifle a laugh, but he hears me and tickles his fingers over my side.
“Dylan!”
“Mmm, I love when you say my name like that.”
“Like I want to strangle you?”
He chuckles. “I’d love to see you try.”
“I’ll help you,” Austin whispers in my ear. “I’ll hold him down, and you can have your way with him.”
“Oh, I like the sound of that.” I waggle my eyebrows at the youngest brother and hum in appreciation when Austin kisses my temple.
“Traitor,” Dylan mutters.
