Kings of Chaos (Dirty Broken Savages #1)(49)

I choke on my moan, my toes curling a little from the feeling of being full. It feels fucking good, and he’s no slouch, but I keep up the commentary anyway, giving in to the game we’re playing.

“Do you think that’s all I can take?” I ask, trying to sound bored and just about managing it. “I’m not some fucking virgin over here. You can give me more than two fingers.”

There’s a muffled chuckle from between my legs and then a third finger presses into me relentlessly. He doesn’t ease it in or take his time, and I can’t help the cry that spills out of me at the feel of it.

“That’s—that’s more like it,” I manage, but my voice is shaky and breathless.

Ash seals his lips over my clit, and the next comment dies on my lips when he sucks, thrusting in hard with his hand at the same time.

It feels so fucking good, and it sends heat burning through me, getting me right to where I want to be. But before I reach the release I’m building toward, he pulls back, taking his fingers away and licking his way down to my now empty pussy.

His tongue feels good when he spears it into my throbbing core, and I rock my hips a bit, like I’m trying to fuck myself on his tongue. It’s not as good as his fingers, not as thick and filling, but it’s close enough, and I moan softly, getting worked right back up again.

He keeps me there on the edge, fluttering his tongue against me like someone who knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Ash,” I choke out. “Fucking—stop teasing.”

Once again, I feel that smirk against my sensitive flesh. He’s enjoying himself, the asshole, keeping me on the brink but not doing enough to push me over.

Every nerve ending in my body feels primed, ready. On alert, ready for the one thing that will be enough to tip me into my orgasm.

And then he gives it to me.

He shoves his fingers in once more and thrusts them in deep and hard. They hit that perfect spot inside me, and I see stars as pleasure rushes down on me with full force. All the while, he keeps eating me out, tongue working like he’s trying to lap up every single drop he can from me.

I scream, arching and thrusting myself forward, grinding hard against his face and smearing my wetness everywhere. Neither of us seem to give a shit about it. Ash doesn’t stop his movements, and my first orgasm keeps building, the aftershocks blossoming into a second climax that leaves me breathless.

I keep expecting him to pull his fingers out, to smirk at me and make some smug dick comment about how he knows what he’s doing with a woman or whatever.

But he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t pull away. Not even when I’m panting, barely keeping myself upright, and so sensitive that even his breath puffing against my clit is enough to have me quivering with sensation.

His fingers keep pumping into me, the wet sounds of them squishing in and out of my pussy obscenely loud in the living room. The sound, the smell, everything is enough to keep me poised on the brink, and when his fingers find that spot inside me again, combined with his tongue flattening against my clit, I’m off on another orgasm, crying out my pleasure once more.

His face and his hand are slippery and wet, and he only stops when I can’t come anymore. When I’m so spent that I have to lean back against the wall and try to catch my breath and slow the rate of my heart.

Finally, Ash gets up. He looks a little dazed, even though I’m the one who just had marathon orgasms. He lifts one hand, showing me the mess of his fingers. His cum and mine mingle together, practically dripping down to his palm.

“You’re messy,” he teases with a smirk. “Help me clean up.”

Ash holds his hand to my mouth, and I curl my tongue around each finger, savoring the salty tang of our combined arousal. Each lick makes him shudder, and I take my time, sucking his fingers into my mouth and swallowing everything I collect on my tongue.

“You know,” he says, grinning at me as he lifts an eyebrow. “That’s definitely not how I thought this afternoon was going to go.”

I snort a laugh, but he’s right. It’s not what I expected either. “What, you thought you were going to get off with what’s-her-face? It didn’t look like that was going very well.”

He shrugs a shoulder. “She tries too hard sometimes. And she doesn’t like your dog.”

“She can kiss my ass. I don’t give a shit.”

That makes him laugh, and he leans against the edge of the bureau next to me, his dick still hanging out of his pants, which are slung low on his hips.

“I don’t think she’s the ass kissing type. Maybe if I made it worth her while.”

“Do you always just fuck whoever you want in the middle of the living room?” I want to know.

Ash shrugs again. “Everyone’s used to it by now. Gage gives me that look, but he never tells me off too much. Priest is usually all ‘you have a bedroom, you know.’”

I laugh because that’s actually not a bad impression of Priest and his flat tones. I can just imagine the sour grapes look on his face if he came in and saw Ash getting his cock sucked out in the open. Even worse if he’d come in and seen Ash going down on me with my bare ass on their furniture.

His threat from last night is still clear in my mind, even though I don’t give a shit about it. I meant what I said then. They need new material, and I’m not afraid of dying. But I know seeing what Ash and I did would just push him closer to the edge of wanting to make good on that threat.