With a growl rumbling in his throat, he backs you up into the dresser. “You don’t think I want to fuck that shaken up look off your face?” His hands flex over your breasts but he doesn’t touch. “I want to so bad, but if I walked in here and caught him between your legs without me, there’d be a second reason to call the police.”
You’re so hot and needy at this point, a scream builds in your throat. “I’ll give him extra attention later?”
Cop’s expression darkens. “Can’t have that, either.”
“I wouldn’t mind it,” Biker rasps to your right. He kicks the bedroom door shut and approaches you slowly. “There better not be a fucking scratch on you or I’ll tear this city apart to find whoever put it there.”
“She’s not hurt.” Cop and Biker trade a look that’s heavy with relief. With possessiveness. “But she’s hurting.”
“I’m hurting,” you whisper. “A lot a lot.”
Biker slides in between you and the dresser, slicking his tongue up the side of your neck. And Cop finally gives in, molding your breasts in his huge hands.
“I want to push these hot tits together and fuck right down the middle,” Cop grits.
“Good.” Biker’s middle finger pushes past your lips, pumping in and out. “I’ll take her mouth.”
“Hallelujah,” is the last coherent word you utter before you’re face up on the bed, being stripped down and swarmed by two starved males. “Have I mentioned I love you guys?”
They go still.
“Do you?” asks Biker, intensity radiating from his hard body.
Your chest constricts and you can’t keep the truth inside. “Yes. Both of you. So much.”
Cop’s body aligns hard to yours. “Marry us,” he says against your ear and you feel something smooth and cool push down on your ring finger. “Marry us and…”
“Make us whole,” Biker finishes, his fingers threading through your hair, love-drenched eyes shining down at you. “We’ve loved you since you walked into the restaurant. Let us call you our wife forever.”
“Yes,” you gasp, just as Cop enters your body with a swift thrust.
“Wife,” he growls, drowning out your scream.
Biker drags his shaft across the seam of your lips. “Wife,” he whispers.
Husbands you think to yourself, your breast swelling with contentment. And then you can’t think at all, because your men fill your mind with nothing but them…and they’ll keep on doing it forever…