Be My Brayshaw (Brayshaw High #4)(108)

She came here and protected our name without being asked, without permission, and without pause.

With selfless intent and a pure heart.

My Beauty.

My Brayshaw.

I watch as Mallory gently nudges Victoria, my eyes glued on her as she scoots back on the mattress, lying flat on the plush pillows, her lower half bare.

Mallory climbs up beside her, laying at her side, her fingertips running along Victoria’s thigh, and Victoria tenses.

“She deserves more than she’s been given,” Mallory whispers, her voice cracking with emotion, and my eyes tighten, darting to hers and quickly back to Victoria’s. “Doesn’t she?”

“Yes,” I rasp instantly, and Victoria’s features twist, but I lose her when Mallory’s hand comes up, forcing her face and attention toward her.

I want it back.

“Let us have you,” she murmurs, but the edge of her eyes crease. “Say goodbye, have closure.”

I don’t want closure.

I want today, tomorrow, always.

But then Victoria’s eyes meet mine, no hesitation shining within them, and damn if it doesn’t fucking sting.

She wants this?

I swallow, my lips flattening.

How can I deny her a single thing after the shit I’ve put her through?

I can’t.

I have to give her whatever she needs, and then I’ll take her home and give her more.

So when Mallory calls me over with a crook of her finger, tugging on my arm, I climb onto the mattress, lowering my body on Victoria’s free side.

“Taste,” she whispers, and my eyes fall to the glistening sheen on her lips.

My gut twists, but when Victoria’s hand finds mine on the mattress, I take reprieve in her touch, lacing my fingers into hers and lean across her body, locking my lips on Mallory’s, tasting Beauty on her, and a low rumble settles in my chest.

Mallory smirks against my mouth, slowly pulling away.

She leans down, preparing to kiss my girl, but I can’t take it and nudge Mallory’s shoulder.

I want her away.

She doesn’t get angry as I thought she might, but a smile covers her lips and she glides her hand along Victoria’s thighs until she can grip around the back of her leg, holding onto it as she falls beside her on the pillow.

She’s opened her for me, and when I look to Beauty, she silently begs me to take my place, so I don’t hesitate slipping between her thighs, my arms at her sides, shielding her. Guarding her.

There’s a heavy strain between her eyes, one that only gets worse when Mallory’s hands slide between us, and we allow her to unclip my belt, pop the button on my jeans and unzip them. They fall open.

Mallory’s hand glides across me, and the muscles in my back clench.

I’m about to snap, tell her to get her fucking hands off me when she pulls away on her own.

“Let her feel,” she whispers, lying back again.

She watches Victoria watch me.

I lower my body, applying the slightest pressure to Victoria’s center with mine and she gasps, but she doesn’t touch me, and fuck, I wish she would.

I want to feel her hands on my skin, I need to feel her hands on my skin.

Her warmth.

Her forgiveness.

Her heart.

But right now, I’ll settle for her heat if it’s what she wants.

Anything for you, Beauty.

I take my knuckle, feathering it along her panty line, and straight down until I meet her clit. I barely touch her, the smallest shortest of grazes, but still she gasps, those thick red lips parting.

Mallory hums beside her, her own hand disappearing between her legs. “She likes that.”

“I know what she likes.”

“So show her. Give her what she needs, Captain.”

My body shakes.

Victoria’s hands on me shake.

Do we shake in rage or fear or more?

Am I really about to fuck the girl I’m in love with for the first fucking time with the girl I thought I loved right beside us?

“She’s ready for you,” Mallory whispers, her shuddered breath fanning over us both.

Anger builds in my chest.

Who is she to tell me?

Victoria is mine, not hers as her twisted mind is trying to convince her.

A shadow falls over me, one that seems to blanket Victoria the same.

“Go get us drinks,” the command flies from my mouth before I can stop it, and everyone freezes.

My eyes meet Mallory’s.

Ever so slowly her frown slips in place, her body pulling away from us both as a gauged gleam slowly fills her eyes.

“Please,” I force the word out, doing my best to keep my tone calm when I’m about to lose my shit.

I can’t do this. I fucking can’t.

At my side, Victoria squeezes, and then lets go of my hand and my attention snaps to her.

A dark, tortured demand of acceptance she’s granted herself burns in her eyes, one that has me holding my breath.

Victoria’s left hand slides into Mallory’s hair, tugging her close.

White, hot jealousy threatens to blur my vision as Victoria’s tongue, a tongue I haven’t thoroughly tasted, disappears into Mallory’s mouth. With each passing second, a heavy tension carves deeper and deeper into her forehead until she finally pulls back to meet Mallory’s eyes, a dead look in her own.