Nightfall (Devil's Night 4)

She liked it.

Her nails dug into the mat underneath her, and she looked so hot, almost like she wanted to come over and help him do what he was doing to me.

Let her look.

Let her know what it looks like with someone else’s mouth on my dick.

I looked down at Damon, sweat cooling my pores as he pushed me between his warm lips and down his throat.

“She is beautiful,” he panted, coming back up and stroking me as he bit my jaw. “And she’s going to hate seeing you happy without her.”

Spitting into my hand, I reached into his jeans and stroked him long and tight, kissing him back, both of us thrusting into each other’s fists as his rosary draped onto my chest.

Grunts and groans filled the room as the pace grew frantic, chasing our orgasms, and I swear I heard Em moan as she watched us.

I wanted her to touch herself. I hoped she would.

“Tighter, man,” Damon growled against my mouth.

“This is as tight as it gets,” I told him. “You’re not sticking that in my ass.”

He snorted. “You’re right. Your dick is smaller. You should top.”

“Fuck you.”

He laughed, and I smiled, thrusting up into him. Our relationship, strangely, was back to bantering.

I closed my eyes, sweat coating my back as I reached up with my other hand and choked him, both of us gasping and grunting as we pushed harder and tighter, cum spilling from my dick a moment before his.

I arched my back, crying out. “Fuck.”

I moaned, tipping my head back and struggling for breath.

My muscles burned, but shivers ran through my body so good, and I tried to catch my breath.

Jesus Christ. What the fuck?

He collapsed to the mat on my side, his heat all over my hand. I kept my eyes closed for another moment, savoring the memory of her gaze on me.

But when I opened them and peered over, she stared at us with the most beautiful look of desperation and sweetness as her nails dug into her thighs.

She loved it. And hated it.

Rising up off the mat, she licked her lips and gazed at me with resolve. “I’ll always want you,” she said quietly.

And then she left.

I stared after her, the high of a moment ago now gone.

She wouldn’t relent, and it was over, no matter how much she wanted all of this.

I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth together and wishing I hadn’t busted that bottle now.

I wouldn’t chase her again. She wasn’t one of us. She would never fight for me.

I swallowed the lump and drew in a long breath, exhaling the pain in my gut.

Damon stood up and pulled up his jeans. “I’ll be in the showers,” he sighed. “Again.”