Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
I already know we should have left when the party ended, but looking at Janey now, marked and claimed and still dripping with us, I can’t find a single ounce of regret.
One night was never going to be enough.
Not when she feels this right between us.
Not when the thought of having what my cousins have and sharing her every night settles in my mind like it belongs there.
I already know, deep in my bones, that this wild night was just the beginning.
She’s ours now.
Whether she’s ready to admit it or not.
Chapter 3
Janey
I should have gone to bed on the sofa like a sensible person.
That thought crosses my mind for what feels like the hundredth time, but it barely registers now. My heartbeat pounds in my ears, mixing with the raw sounds echoing through the barn, the rustle of blankets beneath us, the low, rough voices of two men who have taken me apart and somehow made me feel more whole than I have in years.
Mason is above me, breathing hard, his powerful hands still tangled in my hair, his body looming. His cock twitches as the last of his release slides down my throat. I swallow without thinking, and he hisses.
Brookes is still inside me too, his hard length twitching with aftershocks. I can feel his cum spilling out and coating my thighs. My pussy flutters weakly around him, oversensitive and greedy even after the most shattering orgasm of my life.
I’m trembling. Actually trembling.
My arms have given out, so I’m collapsed on my forearms with my ass still tilted up, held in place only by Brookes’s big hands on my hips and Mason’s gentle grip in my hair. Sweat cools on my skin. My thighs are slick all the way down with a messy combination of my own arousal and Brookes’s spend. My lips are swollen. I’ve never felt so claimed, or so perfectly, deliciously wanted.
“Easy, sweetheart,” Mason murmurs, his voice rough but tender as he strokes my hair back from my face. His thumb brushes over my lower lip, his eyes dark and warm. “You did so good. So damn good.”
He sounds like he didn’t expect it from me, and I’m torn between pride and mortification. Let’s just say I won’t be adding “excellent at getting spit-roasted by two cowboys” to my resume. My success in this arena will remain between us.
He strokes away some cum that leaked from the corner of my mouth and continues his adoration. “So. Perfect. You took everything we gave you like you were made for us.”
Brookes leans over my back, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to my shoulder blade. His stubble scrapes deliciously as he pumps into me again.
“That’s our sweet thing,” he growls. “Look at you… still fluttering around me even after you came so hard. She’s a greedy little thing.”
I whimper, too wrecked to form words even if I knew how to respond without sounding ridiculous. My mind is spinning, a whirlwind of disbelief, heat and raw, electric pleasure.
This is really happening.
I let two rugged cowboys strip me naked in a barn. I let them edge me until I was crying and begging. I let them share me—mouth and pussy at the same time—like it was the most natural thing in the world. And God help me, I loved every second of it.
Mason shifts onto the blankets beside me, pulling me gently down until I’m draped half over his chest. Brookes finally slips out of me with a wet sound that makes my cheeks burn. I feel the immediate rush of the rest of his cum leaking from my swollen folds, sliding down my thigh. Brookes settles behind me, curling his big body around mine so I’m safely sandwiched between them. His hand strokes over my hip, then slides down to cup my messy pussy possessively, holding me there like he’s proud of the way they’ve marked me.
“How do you feel, Janey?” Mason asks softly, his fingers combing through my tangled hair.
I swallow against my slightly raw throat. “Like… like I’ve been hit by a freight train made of pure pleasure.”
A shy laugh bubbles out of me and Mason’s mouth curves.
“I can’t believe I did that,” I whisper, more to myself than them. “I let you… both of you…”
Brookes chuckles against the back of my neck, the sound vibrating through me. “You didn’t only let us. You begged so pretty when we had you right on the edge… crying for it.”
Heat floods my face, but the memory sends another weak throb through my core. I do remember. I remember the way their mouths and fingers kept bringing me so close only to pull away, leaving me shaking and desperate. The praise that poured from them the whole time—good girl, so pretty, so wet, taking us so well—fed every last scrap of my good-girl conditioning.