Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“It’s cute you think you get any say in what pace we go,” I say.
He whines. “I want you both so bad. It’s been too long. I want … I need. Please.”
When I feed him another forkful of food, he practically swallows it whole. I let him get away with it because at least he’s eating something of nutritional value. And despite Prescott’s reassurances, I can’t be sure Brady is looking after himself properly.
He does still look amazing, despite the sudden weight loss in a short nine months and the tired-looking eyes he had when he first came in. Though, there’s no sign of that fatigue now.
All that’s in his gaze at the moment is determination and need. His laser focus is on Prescott fucking his hand just out of his reach.
When he’s almost eaten two pieces of salmon and a whole fritter, he shakes his head. “If I eat any more, I’ll go into a food coma and won’t be able to move to get my fuckening on.”
I put the fork down on the plate. “What makes you think you’re allowed to move now? We’re going to come to you.”
Prescott releases himself and shoves the plate of food out of the way. Then he inches forward on his knees, settling in front of Brady. There’s too big a gap and height difference for Prescott to feed Brady his cock, but Prescott is excellent at improvising.
“I’m going to jerk myself off and come all over your face. Unless you can catch it in your mouth.”
Brady opens immediately, and the view is positively sinful. I can only take so much before I want to get in on the action. I shift my chair to the side so it’s perpendicular to Brady’s and run a hand up his thigh while working open my pants with the other.
Brady’s quads are tense, and with the way his cock looks like it’s trying to lift him off the seat, I’d guess his glutes are too. He’s leaking everywhere.
I want to duck my head and suck on the red tip, but there’s not enough room to maneuver between him and the table, so I give him the next best thing.
Gripping his cock with one hand, I stroke myself with the other. He’s slick from precum, and I spread it over his tight, velvety skin. I spit in the hand that’s working myself over for ease.
We’re all so keyed up. Prescott is panting and jerking faster and faster. Brady looks like he’s trying with all his energy to focus on Prescott and not on what my hand’s doing. He trembles but keeps his mouth open, ready for Prescott’s release.
And when it happens, the pleasure building in my balls, the heat in my gut … the look on Brady’s face as Prescott comes all over his cheek, his chin, and he does manage to get some in his mouth … it’s all too much.
My hands frantically work at getting Brady and me to the finishing line faster, and all it takes for me to let go is the warmth filling my hand when Brady lets out a curse and stiffens.
The room fills with the scent of cum and the sound of three heavy breaths. I release Brady and myself and sink back into my seat while I try to regain composure.
Prescott’s the first to move, climbing down off the dining table and releasing Brady from his restraints.
As soon as he’s free, Brady jumps up. “That was fun. When’s the next round?”
Prescott turns to me. “We might have to take it in shifts to keep Brady satisfied.”
I might be boneless. I might be spent. But that’s not going to hold me back. “Challenge accepted.”
CHAPTER NINE
prescott
I watch the water from my lounger on the terrace, cool wind whipping by, coffee in hand, the smell of salt and beach in the air. Kit really embodies a seal. Only this time, I’m not talking about the naval kind. At the ass crack of dawn, I heard him slip out of bed, and I knew exactly where he was going. I like sleep, and if I don’t have to be on duty at a certain time, everyone knows they’ll find me in bed, so I let him go and rolled over to cuddle Brady.
And two hours later, Kit’s still swimming. I can see him from where I am, his strong arms coming out of the water to propel him forward. He swims out about half a mile and then comes back and repeats it. I didn’t know it was possible to do laps in the Gulf of Mexico, but he’s made it a thing.
I’m tempted to go out there and join him now that I’ve had a chance to wake up properly. I could sneak up on him and pretend to be a shark. But I still have coffee left, and as much as pretend drowning Kit sounds fun, I don’t want to be sucked into his orbit again.