by Laura Lee
“Watch, Jazz,” Kingston commands. “You love how he’s eating that pretty little cunt of yours, don’t you?”
“So much.” I gasp as Bentley points his tongue, adding the perfect amount of pressure.
I shamelessly ride Bentley’s face as he licks me harder and faster, my arched spine and rolling hips only seem to spur him on.
“I can’t wait to be inside of you,” Kingston whispers as he presses his erection into my back. “To prove that no matter how good you feel right now, I’m the only man who owns that pussy. My dick is the only one you want. But you already know that, don’t you?”
I whimper as he pinches my nipples. Hard. “Fuck.”
I can feel Kingston’s smile against my cheek. “That’s what I thought.” He lifts his head and watches as Bentley’s tongue swirls around my clit. “How’s she taste, Bent?”
Bentley gives me one long lick from bottom to top. “Like fucking heaven. No pussy has ever tasted this good.” I squeal when he curls his fingers inside of me.
“Mmm,” Kingston murmurs. “That she does. C’mon, Jazz, get there. Show Bentley how gorgeous you are when you come.”
“Oh, God,” I pant.
I feel like I'm burning up from the inside, yet shivers are coursing throughout my body. I've never known pleasure like this before. Two sets of hands working in tandem, Kingston's filthy words whispered in my ear, watching as Bentley's dark head move between my thighs, it's too much. I can't hold back anymore. A ragged scream tears from my lips as my orgasm finally peaks. When I come down, I'm so blissed out, I feel like I'm floating in a completely different dimension.
Bentley removes his fingers and places a soft kiss right over the scar above my public bone. “You’re absolutely stunning, Jazz.”
“She’d look even better riding my cock.” Kingston grabs my chin, yanking my neck to the side so I can look at him. “Do you want to show him?”
“Do you?”
Kingston places a soft kiss on my lips. “Yeah, I really fucking do.”
I turn to Bentley. He seems to read my mind because he answers my question before I can even ask. “Yeah, pretty girl. I’m in. Show me what you’ve got.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
KINGSTON
Is this really happening? One minute, my best friend and I are squaring off, ready to battle for this girl. In the next, we're working together, doing whatever we can to bring her more pleasure than she's ever known.
"Remember, if you want to stop at any time, just say the word." I place a chaste kiss on Jazz's temple.
"Not gonna happen." Her voice is breathy, needy. Her body is pliant. Not a trace of anxiety remains, which is precisely what I was aiming for.
My hand slides down her taut abdomen until it lands on her bare mound. I go lower, dipping a finger inside to collect her moisture. My beautiful girl’s pussy clenches at the intrusion, making my cock jump in anticipation. Jazz’s back arches on a gasp while I pump my finger in and out a few times.
Bentley groans from his place on the floor in front of us, watching my finger disappear inside her tight little cunt. There’s no doubt Jazz is more than ready, so I remove my finger and give her pussy a little tap. “Turn around, baby.”
I fumble with my underwear, sliding it down just enough to free my dick as her lithe body faces me, bourbon eyes shining with desire. Christ, I don't think she's ever looked better. I thread my fingers through her thick hair, pulling her mouth to mine. Jazz glides her pussy over my shaft as we kiss, trying to get friction. I don't think she realizes she's doing it, but the natural lube all over my dick doesn't lie.
The couch dips as Bentley sits beside us to get a better view. He's stripped down as well, stroking his cock as he watches us. Jazz turns her attention to him, her eyes fixated on how he moves his hand up and down. I pinch her chin between my fingers, diverting her attention back to me while I nudge the head of my dick against her swollen clit.
“You on the pill?” I ask.
She nods. “Yeah.”
I line myself up with her entrance. “You trust me?”
She nods again, more fervently this time.
“Then fucking ride me, baby.”
Jazz gives me a saucy smile and sinks down on my cock, inch by inch until her ass is in my lap.
Ho-ly fuck.
I groan, firmly grabbing her hips. “Hold up a sec.”
Jazz whimpers. “Kingston, I can’t. I need to move.”
“Just give me a second,” I choke out.
This is even better than I imagined, and I’ve imagined it a helluva lot with Jazz. I’ve never fucked without a condom before—never trusted a chick enough not to pull the oops baby thing with me.
“How does it feel, man?”
Shit, I almost forgot he was here. Bentley’s eyes are rooted to the spot where Jazz and I are joined.
I guide Jazz slowly up my shaft and back down again, testing my resolve. “So much tighter. Hotter. Wetter. So fucking good.”
Jazz doesn’t waste any time as soon as I loosen my hold. She braces one hand on my shoulder, the other behind her on my thigh. Her tits are pointed to the ceiling as she rolls her hips, riding me like it’s her sole fucking purpose on this earth.
“God,” she pants. “I almost forgot how full you make me feel.”
I lean forward and lave each of her nipples with my tongue as she bounces on my dick.
Bentley throws his head back, closing his eyes, listening to the sounds of our skin slapping against each other. Jazz watches as he strokes himself, grunting as he likely imagines her on top of him instead of me. Her curious eyes flicker to mine, and I immediately know what she wants.
We’re both well aware I can’t really tell her what to do, but I appreciate the fact she's seeking permission to touch another guy's cock while mine is inside her. There's no way in hell I'm watching her put his dick in her mouth—I don't think I could ever get that image out of my head—but I'm okay if she uses her hand to get him off. It is proper foreplay etiquette to return the favor and all.
I incline my head, giving her the green light.
Bentley’s eyes fly open when Jazz reaches out and cups his balls. “Oh, fuck!”
He watches in awe, mouth open in shock as she wraps her hand around his. “Bent, I wanna touch you.”
He seeks me out, doing almost the exact same thing Jazz did a minute ago. That move right there tells me he’s accepted what he wasn’t willing to admit before now. Jazz is mine, and he's never going to have a real shot with her. He knows I would never consider going bareback otherwise. I give him a slight nod, silently granting approval.
When Jazz spits on her palm and fists Bentley's dick, I take over, thrusting into her from below. He groans every time she twists her hand a little as she reaches the flared head, before gliding back down. I've reached my limit of watching them, so I hook my hand behind her neck and pull her into another kiss. This one’s not even a little bit gentle. It’s hard. It’s fast. It’s claiming. She may be jerking Fitzgerald off right now, but that doesn’t make her any less mine.
When I rip my mouth away, we're both panting. I'm sure my eyes are as wild as hers. I can tell she's close, and I'm not going to last much longer, so I thumb her clit, giving her that extra boost she needs to fall over the edge. When Jasmine comes, she strangles my dick so tightly, I'm actually worried I might lose circulation for a moment. The second she stops spasming around me, I give a few more hard thrusts before I'm spilling inside her.
My head falls to her chest, and out of the corner of my eye, I see thick ropes of Bentley's cum shooting out of him. My jaw clenches as the sticky substance coats Jazz's hand while she strokes him through the aftershocks. I'm well aware of what's happening, and that her hand just made it happen, but that doesn’t mean I have to like his mark on her. In fact, I fucking hate it, but I will myself to calm down for Jazz’s sake. I knew what I was getting myself into when we started this, and I’m sure as shit not going to do anything that will make
her feel guilty.
Jazz rests her head on top of mine, and we all take a minute to catch our breath. Bentley reaches down and grabs the shirt he was wearing, using it to clean Jazz's hand. She sits up, observing him removing any trace of him from each one of her fingers. When Bent's done, he offers her a bashful smile.
She leans to the side as he cups his hands around her face and presses a quick kiss against her lips. “Thank you, baby girl.”
She releases a surprised laugh, making me choke back a groan since I'm still inside her. "What are you thanking me for? I'm the one who came twice."
Bentley grins. “Naw, girl. That was hot as fuck, and believe me when I say the pleasure was all mine.” His expression takes a serious turn. “I was thanking you for trusting me enough to do that.” He flicks his finger between the three of us. “To do this. You have my word that what happened here tonight will never leave this room.”
Jazz’s cheeks flush as she gives him a soft smile. “Thanks, Bent.”
Bentley stands and pulls his pants back on. Putting one hand on my shoulder, he says, "I'm going to shower and hit the hay. You know where the guest room is."
“Yep,” I confirm.
After he leaves the room, Jazz presses her lips to the corner of my mouth. “So, what now?”
She yelps when I stand abruptly, wrapping her ankles behind my back. “Now, we go take our own shower.”
Her musical laughter rings down the hall as I carry her to the guest bedroom. I decide at that moment that I'm going to do everything in my power to hear that sound as often as possible.
“MMM. GOOD MORNING.” Jazz draws lazy circles on my chest as she snuggles into me.
"Yes. Yes, it is. Although, I think my dick may be broken."
Jazz laughs, sliding her hand beneath the stark white sheet. “Hmm...doesn’t feel broken.”
I was already hard before she touched me, but as she pumps her hand up and down, I swell. Jesus, we’ve fucked five times in the last nine hours, and when I say fucked, I do mean thoroughly. I honestly don’t know how my dick is still working.
I still can't believe last night started out the way it did. I've never felt more helpless than I did when Jazz had that panic attack. Her eyes, which are typically so expressive, were completely vacant. Haunted. I wasn't getting through to her with words, so I did the only thing I could think of and kissed her.
While the kiss helped pull Jazz out of the headspace she was trapped in, it also brought out the most primitive version of her. I meant every word when I told her I wouldn't share. And I still feel that way now, but apparently, I can't say no to this girl. When Jazz called out to Bentley, asking him to stay, putting a stop to it never crossed my mind.
Every instinct inside of me wanted to push Fitzgerald away and beat his ass. I won’t lie and say watching him devour her pussy didn’t turn me on. It was live porn, for fuck’s sake. But it was more about her getting off than the act itself.
If I'm honest with myself, the rational part of my brain knew what happened last night was inevitable. Well, minus the panic attack. Jazz had to resolve the tension between them, and Bentley needed to learn that Jazz isn't going to replace Carissa. I know he thinks he might love Jazz, but I know my brother, and I know that's not true. Bentley may love Jazz, but he's not in love with her. He’s just confused because she’s the first girl to come along since Carissa died that he actually cares about.
Regardless of his misguided affection, Bent's acquiescence couldn't have been any more apparent. After last night, I'd say he's crystal clear that Jazz could never be his because she was made for me. I’ve no doubt there will never be another woman who gets me the way she does. This girl sees straight down into the darkest depths of my soul. She knows there’s a monster lurking inside of me, but there’s a similar darkness in her, waiting to be unleashed.
Jazz needs someone who understands the pull. Her meltdown last night proves there’s a fucking hurricane of diverging emotions that she doesn’t understand, doesn’t know how to control. Lucky for her, I’ve become quite familiar with my demons over the last couple of years. I’ve learned when to chain them and when to set them free, and I can share that knowledge with her when she’s ready.
I tilt Jazz’s chin up so she can look me in the eye. “You okay?”
She sucks her lower lip into her mouth. “Yeah. I mean, I’ll probably be walking funny for a week, but I feel pretty damn great.”
“Well, then my job here is done.” We both laugh. “I was talking about up here, though.” I tap her temple.
Jazz's full lips turn down. "Um...yeah, I guess. I don't feel like I'm losing my mind, so that's a plus. I'm sorry you had to witness that."
“Nuh-uh.” I shake my head. “Don’t do that. Everyone’s allowed to lose it every now and again. We wouldn’t be human if we didn’t. Considering what a rock you’ve been, after everything you’ve gone through lately, I’d say it was long overdue.”
“Maybe.” Jazz climbs on top of me and straddles my hips.
Her tits are bare, so I can’t help myself. I yank her into me and suck her peaked nipple into my mouth.
“God, I fucking love your tits,” I mumble against her skin.
Her body immediately tenses, and I internally curse myself for using those words. I know she’s thinking about what Peyton said at her goddamn birthday party.
Jazz tries scooting off of me, but I grab her hips to stop the movement. “Hey, look at me.”
Jazz normally exudes confidence, but I see the insecurity trying to force its way in as she pulls the sheet around her to cover her chest.
Fucking Peyton.
My grip on her tightens. “Don’t let Peyton get inside your head. She’s a bitter, jealous bitch. Being with you is a world away from any other chick I’ve slept with. There’s no comparison, Jazz. Nobody else matters. And I love every goddamn inch of your body.”
“But you did say those words to her. Many, many times, as you were fucking her tits. And I'm guessing Peyton's not the only one who's heard those exact same words while you were doing that exact same thing."
I take a deep breath and let it out. “I don’t know what the right thing to say here is, Jazz. I don’t want to lie to you.”
She sighs. “If that’s what you’re really into...if that’s something you need, I can’t give that to you, Kingston. A boob job will never be in my future. I don’t want giant tits.”
I maneuver our bodies, so Jazz is beneath me. "That's not something I will ever need. If you really want to know, anything I’ve done in my past was likely because it was offered. Plain and simple. There was never a request on my end or something I felt was missing.
“Yeah, sometimes, nothing was off-limits because those chicks thought sex was their golden ticket to my wallet, but here’s the thing: I never cared if they got off. Not once. I've never had a sleepover before you or cuddled with someone afterward. Because I never wanted to. I’ll be the first to admit I was a selfish prick. All I cared about with any of them—including Peyton—was getting off and getting out as fast as possible.”
Jazz takes a moment to digest everything. “And how many of ‘those chicks’ are we talking about here?”
I look her straight in the eye, so she sees the truth in my words. "Eight."
“Eight.” Her brows rise. “How is that possible? Are you not counting all the random blowies in the janitor’s closet?”
I flop to the side. "First of all, I've never had a random blow job in the janitor's closet—that's Bentley's thing. But if that's a dirty fantasy of yours, just tell me when and where, and I'd be happy to make it my thing.” I smile when Jazz smacks me playfully on the chest. “Contrary to popular belief, I’ve been very selective with my dick, and I wasn’t opposed to repeats with the same girl. Plus, I was with Peyton for almost two years, and I didn’t assume we had an open relationship like she did.”
“God, I still can’t believe she did that to you.” She tilts her head to the side. “On second thought
, yeah, I can. I don’t know if Peyton’s capable of loyalty in any respect.”
“I’d agree with you on that.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Since we’re apparently doing the number thing, I think it’s only fair you tell me yours.”
“Besides you, one.”
“Taco Truck Shawn?” I can’t help it; I think about the pictures on Insta and frown. “He’s seriously the only dude you’ve fucked?”
“First of all, it’s just Shawn, no taco trucks involved. And yes, he’s the only other person I’ve had sex with, or even fooled around with, for that matter.” Jazz bites her lip. “Well, I guess after last night, there’s two if Bentley counts.”
I groan. “I think we need to set a rule that Bentley does not count. In fact, let’s forget Bentley ever happened.”
Jazz’s eyes are filled with unease. “Kingston, why did—”
I lightly pinch her lips together. “I don’t regret it, Jazz. It needed to happen for multiple reasons, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't hot. But you have to know it was a one-time thing. It took a shit ton of self-control to prevent myself from knocking Bentley's teeth out while he was touching you. Every instinct inside of me was screaming to make it stop. I don't think I could control myself if it happened again."
“I don’t want it to happen again,” she assures me.
“No?”
“No. But I’m glad it did happen. What you did for me last night, what you both did for me, I could never forget. You saved me. I've had a few moments of heightened anxiety since the attack, but nothing close to what happened last night. Losing control of my own body, being consumed by panic like that, was terrifying. I was trapped in this really dark place, and I had no idea how to make it stop, which only exacerbated the situation."