Filthy Vows (Filthy Vows #1)(36)

My nails dug into his chest as I spoke, caution thrown to the wind, the risk as hot as the pleasure. “I want him to see it.”

“Do you?” he gritted out, his finger pushing into the tight pucker of my ass. “You know he won’t just stand there. Not when he sees how fucking dirty you are. Not when he hears how you sound when you take my cock.” He pulled me down to his chest and trapped me in place, holding me still as he took over the motion, his hips beginning a furious assault of upward thrusts into my needy body. He turned his head and put his mouth close to my ear. “Is that what you want, Elle? Do you want him to come into our bedroom? Do you want to see his cock? You know he’s going to be rock hard, seeing what he’s about to fuck.”

I broke at the visual, clutching his shoulders and letting out a howl of pleasure as his second finger pushed into my ass, the fit tight and dirty and hot, my muscles spasming around him as my orgasm pulsed.

His fingers yanked out and he rolled, getting on top of me. “Flip over,” he ordered. “On your knees.”

I scrambled up the bed, obeying him, the lilac comforter bunching under my knees. He pulled them outward, spreading me wide, and pushed my shoulders down until my breasts brushed the bed. “Stay right there. Arch your back.”

The bed shifted and I paused, tilting my head to one side. The weight of his steps sounded as he moved to the side. His belt clanked against the wood floors and I saw him hold up his phone. “What are you doing?”

“Stay there.” There was the sound of a shutter and I flinched.

“Why are you—”

He gripped a fistful of ass and squeezed, then spanked the flesh, almost lifting me off the bed. “You’re so fucking beautiful. I want you to see this.” There was another shutter sound, then the phone was tossed beside me, screen side up, and as Easton got behind me, I saw what he had taken. It was the sort of trashy picture you’d see on an amateur porn site. My legs split wide, my pussy pink and glistening, back arched, face turned away, my toes braced on the bed. His fingers were biting into my ass cheek and his stiff cock was visible in the bottom half of the frame, wet from being inside me.

He pushed in, and I closed my eyes at the rigid fill of him, the photo disappearing for one pleasurable moment. “That’s what he’s going to see,” Easton began to pump into me, his pelvis slapping loudly against my ass. “He’s going to hear you crying out for more and he’s going to walk down the hall and see the cracked door. He’s going to get hard at the sound of you coming. He’s going to look in, and he’s going to see you—just like that.”

I gripped the sheets tighter and imagined Aaron at the door, his weight braced against the jamb, his mouth half open as he took in the scene.

“Look how fucking gorgeous you are.” Easton tightened his grip on my waist, his strokes shortening as his speed increased, his arousal growing.

Staring down at my husband’s phone, I let myself look at it without focusing on the dimples of my ass, or my unshaved bikini line. I listened to the growl of his voice, felt the urgency of his fucks, and looked at the pure fucking hotness of the photo. I did look gorgeous. I looked needy, Easton looked huge, and I felt drunk at the thought of Aaron seeing that view. Drunk and reckless.

“Talk to me, baby.” Easton spread my cheeks with his hands, the cool air of the room hitting the exposed pucker of my ass. “Tell me what you want.”

I couldn’t answer that, could barely manage a moan of pleasure as my muscles knotted and tightened around his cock. I managed an exhale. “More.”

He withdrew and I felt the hot swipe of his tongue along the crack of my ass, then the push of it against the tight band of nerve endings. “Nooo…” I warned. “I’m not ready.”

“I fucking need it, Elle.” He pushed his thumb into my ass and my clit tingled, a shot of pleasure shooting from one nerve center to the other, my body humming like an electric wire in preparation. “Please. I’ll fucking come the moment I push inside.”

That was a lie. He loved my ass too much to be quick. But I also craved the way he reacted when he was inside of it. The filthy things he said. The fierce possession that came over him. The raw, unfiltered and animalistic joining of our bodies and how intimate and fierce the connection was.

I felt the wedge of another finger, prying me open.

“Come on. Please.” His dick bumped against my swollen clit, the head of it pushing insistently against everything it touched. He leaned forward and bit my right shoulder blade. “Or are you worried you’ll be too loud?” He put the head of it against the tight opening. “Are you worried he’ll hear you beg for more?”

Fuck it. I pushed back against his head, mewing in pain as my ass stretched to take him, my clit engorging, heavy with need. I reached between my legs and brushed my hand over the sensitive bud, gently strumming over the wet folds, the needed pleasure bringing tears to my eyes. “Slowly,” I whispered.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “It’s so hot and tight. It feels insane.” He leaned forward and cupped my breasts, his damp palms rolling over my nipples, and he gave mini thrusts of his hips as he eased deeper inside of me, the pinch of one nipple distracting me from the pain.

“Use your fingers,” he urged. “Play with that beautiful pussy and pretend it’s his tongue.”