Infamous Like Us (Like Us 10)

Their movements speed like they’re reaching a breaking point with the toying and teasing. Kisses are hotter, rougher. They, too, need fucking more.

Banks scoops up my hair again and starts to tie off the strands in a high messy bun. They seem coordinated. In sync.

Like they both know how this night is going to go, and I’m left at the mercy of their plans.

It stimulates me to the core, and I squeeze my thighs together, wetness building between my legs. Panties still on, I’m grateful for them—Akara grips the cotton and yanks it to the floor.

Fuck. Breath catches in my lungs.

“Step,” Banks tells me this time.

I step out of the last piece of clothing on me.

Just as I do, Banks’ fingers slip up my thighs. “Jesus, Sulli,” he whispers into a groan. He looks to Akara. “She’s soaked.”

“Please put them inside me,” I beg. I want his touch. Their touch. I want my tits to be gripped hard and the feeling of being rocked against.

I want the thread between us wound so intricately, so strongly that no one—and nothing—can unravel what we’ve fucking tied.

Banks presses his forehead to mine, our lips achingly close as he whispers, “Not yet.”

Not yet.

“Put her on the bed,” Akara breathes, his voice utterly fucking sexy. I’m consumed by those words and the way Banks lifts me up over his shoulder like a sack of naked potatoes.

“I’m going to get your fingers,” I tell Banks.

“You’re gonna get more than my fingers, Sulli,” he says huskily.

Holy fucking fuck. I want to sink into this moment and never come out. By the time Banks tosses me onto the soft, velvet turquoise quilt, I’m a pile of trembling mush.

I spread my legs open for them.

Their muscles flex, chests rising and falling in aroused breath. I knock my knees together, then swing them back open.

They both seem to force themselves away from the bed. Like I’m a siren calling them into the water to their demise.

“Are we going to…?” I trail off, watching Banks pry off his gun, his radio. Akara does the same, working carefully as they store their weapons.

Next to come off are their clothes.

Banks yanks his tee over his head. Akara sheds his pants. I eat up their bodies that come into clearer view. Akara’s inked shoulder and upper-chest, and the lines of his sculpted abs. Banks’ muscular build, the hair that tracks down to his bulging package, molded against navy boxer-briefs. And Akara’s V-line that points towards his hardened cock, hidden behind black boxer-briefs.

“Are we going to what?” Akara asks, sliding his boxer-briefs down. He’s totally naked, his erection standing at attention. I imagine him filling me.

I breathe, “Are we going to bone?”

He smiles. “You want his boner?”

“And yours.” I eye them, breathing heavier. “I really want to feel close. I want you back on me. I want you up against me. I want you inside me. I never want you to leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Banks promises.

“I’m here,” Akara whispers. Like he can see that’s not enough, he repeats, “I’m here, I’m here. I’m here.” His words breathe into my spirit. Lifting me.

Banks removes his last piece of clothing. He’s so hard, and I’m so fucking wet. What a great fucking combo. Let’s go. Condoms are out. Condoms are on. They exchange looks to each other. They actually whisper to each other.

Planning something.

I writhe into the quilt, hips bucking, and my hand travels down my belly, nearing my clit.

“Get her,” Akara tells him.

Banks scoops me in his arms, and instinctually, my legs wrap around his waist, his lips are on mine, and we’re kissing with forceful need again. Until I feel him climb further onto the bed with my ass in his hands, and I break for breath and see where I’m going.

He’s on his knees, and he tucks me to his chest. Swiftly, he’s on his back, lying flat against the mattress, and I’m straddling him, lowering closer to his muscular build.

Banks’ hand encases my cheek, our foreheads close. “You ready to take us both, mermaid?”

Shock lies beneath utter desire. I practically moan thinking about Akara and Banks being inside me together. With candlelight flickering, with this string of vulnerability twisting around our hearts and souls, and I nod quickly. “I’m fucking…”

Ready. The word is lost as I look up into the mirror, the one that lies above the short, iron headboard. Akara has climbed onto the bed. A bottle of lube is in his hand.

He’s staring straight into my melting gaze with the same emotional look Banks is giving me. The look that says, I love you, Sulli. We’re going to take care of you and make you feel good, Sulli. Breathe, Sulli.

“You’re fucking what?” Akara asks.

“Ready,” I breathe, watching him through the mirror as he lubes his erection with two strokes. Oh my fuck. They’ve never done double penetration before, but they seem confident. I doubt they’d even try if they weren’t.