by Abigail Cole
“Kiss her,” Axel orders, bringing his thumb up to rub across his bottom lip. Garrett turns and drags me into his body in the same movement, a gasp leaving my lips which he uses to push his tongue into my mouth. There’s never soft caresses or gentle kisses with Garrett and this is what I need right now. A moan escapes me, desire zipping through my core the way I’d expected it to earlier with Huxley. Garrett’s tongue devours me hungrily, his fingers digging into my underarms and his solid erection already nudging at my abdomen. Molten heat sets me on fire with the need for a brief escape from the world.
“Is she wet for us?” Axel’s voice drifts across the room, Garrett’s hand immediately sliding down to my ass and dipping between the cheeks. We both groan into each other’s mouths at the feel of how wet I am, Garrett’s long digit easily pushing inside of me. I nibble on his bottom lip and trail kisses down his neck as he pumps his finger in and out, adding a second for good measure.
“She’s soaking for us,” Garrett’s voice is strained, his muscles bunched beneath my fingertips. “What’s next?” He asks with clear desperation on his voice.
“Put your hands behind your back and keep them there while Avery does whatever she wants with you.” Garrett’s fingers still inside of me but he doesn’t let go, his nails digging into my hip and his chest heaving beneath my lips. When I’m sure he’s about to refuse and bend me over like a rag doll, he removes his hands so quickly, I gasp at the sudden loss of contact. Clasping his hands behind him, Garrett’s stares upwards, trembling with desire. I cut a glance to Axel who is smirking like he’s having the time of his life and gestures for me to continue my assault.
Firstly, I graze my teeth along his collar bone and place kisses across his chest. I run the pad of my tongue over his nipple and he hisses, holding himself surprisingly still as I repeat the process on the other side, giving the bud a little bite. Carving a path through his valley of abs with my mouth, it doesn’t escape me he’s fully shaven as I drop to my knees on the soft rug. Starting from his ankles, I slowly scrape my fingernails up his calves, along the inside of his thighs and stop short of his balls. His frustration is clear by his growls but I’m having way too much fun to stop. Painting featherlight circles across his groin with my fingers, I lean forward as if I’m going to take him in my mouth, stopping short and smile up at him wickedly.
Snarling, Garrett’s hands unexpectedly shoot out to grab the back of my head and hold me in place as he plunges his cock straight into the back of my throat. Holding me helplessly still, Garrett fucks my mouth like his life depends on it, his smooth head gliding over my tongue at an impressive speed. Gripping his thighs, I can only hold on for the ride as Garrett’s true sexual demon is finally unleashed. I slide my fingers across to scratch his balls, his grip on my hair tightening enough to leave a bruise on my scalp.
Releasing me as quickly as he started, Garrett lifts me to my feet and uses his hand on my nape to guide me over to Axel’s seat. Pushing me back down onto my knees in front of the chair, Garrett lifts my wrists and plants them either side of the armchair before shifting down behind me. The head of his dick slides against my entrance, his hand snaking around my body until his palm is pressed against my clit. With his fingers holding me open for him, he slides his whole length into me in one smooth movement. Crying out, his free hand curls around my neck and settles under my chin, pushing my head up to lock eyes with Axel’s.
Axel has released his dick from his pants, his fisted hand slowly pumping up and down his shaft as he watches our every move. Although not together like before, the three of us are bonded in this moment, our pleasure and ragged breaths mingling in the air. My cries echo around the room as Garrett builds up a vigorous rhythm, each thrust hitting my G-spot. His fingers tighten around my neck and groin, purely animalistic noises sounding behind me, but Axel is the opposite. Calm, composed. Legs spread wide, casually stroking the impressive length of his cock, his eyes churning with yearning at the scene being played out for him.
My eyes flick down to the bead of precum glistening on top of his dark purple head, my tongue instantly darting out to wet my bottom lip. Smirking down at me, Axel runs the knuckles of his free hand across my nipple and I arch my back in response, desperate to be closer to him. Every drag of his fingers sends sparks flying throughout my body, my toes curled, and fists clenched. Abandoning his dick, he gives my tits his full attention, rolling my nipples between his thumb and forefinger with the occasional sharp pinch. I try to lean into his touch, but Garrett has me locked in place, pounding relentlessly, and filling me completely.
An orgasm rips through me like a tidal wave, delicious destruction tearing me apart on a scream. Garrett’s hand shifts towards my mouth and I bite down hard on the fleshly part between his thumb and forefinger, riding out the intense waves with muffled moans. My walls are gripping Garrett’s shaft so tightly, he’s momentarily forced to slow while I bathe in the euphoric feeling, I hadn’t realised I’d missed until now. My limbs is a mixture of tingling yet heavy. If Garrett wasn’t holding me, I’d have melted into a blissful puddle on the floor and refuse to get back up again.
Axel’s eyes haven’t wandered from mine, still smoothing his hand up and down on his dick. I shift my hands from the edge of the seat, drifting across the leather to rest on his thighs. Garrett tries to yank me backwards into his body until Axel warns him off, a silent conversation passing between the two which I’m too distracted to concentrate on with Axel’s cock straining for my attention.
“Gently,” Garrett whispers into my ear almost threateningly. He slows his pace and curls my braid around his hand to keep control as I lean forward to take all of Axel into my mouth. His velvet softness eases across my tongue as I carefully pull back, licking every drop of saltiness from his rounded helmet. Axel’s leaned all the way back, groaning and urging me to continue with his palm on my head. Garrett grinds deep within me, a sensual shift in our usual dynamic which I’m not complaining about.
Keeping my pace slow, I take Axel between my lips again and again, swirling my tongue around his tip each time. Gripping the base tightly in my hand, I pump alongside my steady movements until the desperation in his groans call for more. Sucking and occasionally scraping my teeth along his length, I take him deep into my mouth just as he explodes on a curse, warm salty cum squirting directly down my throat. Garrett holds me in place by my hair, forcing me to take everything Axel wants to give, not that I would have moved anyway.
The second I pull myself free following Axel’s release, Garrett picks up his punishing rhythm. His hands wind around me like a cobra pinning its prey in place, driving into me at such a speed I can barely catch my breath. Each slam of his body against my ass feels like a spank, his movements harsh as if he needs to teach me some sort of lesson. His mouth finds my neck, biting down sharply which has me crying out in protest a second before another orgasm rakes through my body.
Stars burst behind my eyelids, my inner walls rippling with pleasure. Still he doesn’t relent, using me to vent all of his pent-up sexual frustration. My nails rip into the arms of the chair, Garrett’s shouts joining mine as his cock swells and pulses within me. Finally freeing me from his hold as he chases his release, I slump forward onto Axel’s thigh. I’m definitely going to ache in the morning, but I don’t regret a second of it. At least, not right now. Garrett grinds against me one last time, prolonging his pleasure before leaning over me. His fingers interlink with Axel’s, the three of us absorbing the last few moments before our troubles return with a vengeance.
Before long, Garrett lifts his weight from my back, his arm around my middle taking me with him. Passing me his discarded boxers, I hold the material between my thighs as he pulls out of me and leaves me to clean myself up. Slipping his shirt over my shoulders, I see he’s already pulled on his slacks and left the button open. There’s a tight clench to his jaw, concern brewing in his eyes as he silently lifts Axel to his feet and helps guide him towards the door.
Leaving my
dress and the cum-covered boxers crumpled on the rug, I push my arms through the shirt sleeves and button it all the way down to graze my thighs. The guys exit the room without even a glance back, leaving me alone in the dark. Well, fuck me, I guess. Quite literally. Shame washes over me, the feeling I’ve been used twisting uncomfortably in my chest. But who am I kidding? I used them right back. Even Axel during his recovery, which was completely selfish of me. I’ve been so caught up in training and not sleeping, I forgot it’s not just me who is hurting, emotionally and physically. I needed a distraction and I took it, no strings attached. Surely there are worse ways to destroy your morals than trapped between two insanely hot guys.
Dax
The morning rays piercing through the glass skylight hurt my tired eyes, forcing me to squint and rub them even more than my reckless night’s sleep already was. Blasting Fall Out Boy through my wireless headphones, I tap the treadmill’s digital screen to speed up my causal jog to a full-on run. Pumping my arms in time with my burning calves, I relish the sweet pain of pushing myself for a change. We’re due to return to Waversea soon, which would include gruelling 5am training sessions on the basketball court before class. Not that I can see us going back if nothing has changed around here. We were supposed to use Axel’s place as a hideout while we came up with some sort of plan and ensure Avery stayed hidden away from harm. I don’t want to be that dick who leaves in a time of need to finish his degree and move on with his life when everything is going tits up, but with Avery still ignoring me, it doesn’t seem like I’m wanted or needed here either.
The elastic holding my hair back snaps, my blonde curls exploding around my face and sticking to my sweat-covered neck. I keep running, refusing to stop until these unwanted feelings are dulled enough to give me a short reprieve. The pounding of my feet matches the heavy bass streaming into my ears, the bloodthirsty lyrics starting to make me feel invincible. If only I knew what I was running towards, I could implement the steps to get there sooner and save my stress. Unless I’m subconsciously running away from something instead.
The last song in my playlist comes to an end so I shut off the machine, gasping for breath and struggling to remain upright on my trembling legs. Abandoning my trusty mp3 player and headphones on the treadmill’s handle for later, I grab my hand towel from the weight bench and scrub the rough material down my face. Lifting my head to the skylight, I nearly jump out of my skin at the creepy ass cat sitting directly above me, his yellow eyes zeroed in on my every movement. His striped tail flicks back and forth casually while his tabby shoulders flex as if readying himself to pounce on me straight through the glass. I edge my way out of the room, not breaking eye contact the entire time.
Every window in the mansion has been designed with the purpose of drawing in as much daylight as possible, but when there is this much space and practically no one in it, the point seems mute. I’ve yet to find a room I could imagine as being homely and can’t help but think how dreary it must have been growing up here. It’s always eerily quiet, the staff only around on weekends and Sharon accompanies Richard to work on weekdays. Not that I expect she does much other than eye-fuck his employees and pass her menial tasks onto interns. Strolling through most of the lower level, each room as grand and unused as the last, I finally enter the kitchen to find Garrett slumped over the kitchen counter.
“You alright, man?” I ask, pulling a bottle of water from the refrigerator and leaning against the same counter. He groans loudly, slowly sitting upright on the stool to face me. Damn, he looks like shit. Dark circles cling to his bloodshot eyes, his hair is a straight-up mess which is saying something considering he never styles it normally. Next to him on the black surface, he’s laid out a large mixing bowl, scales, flour, butter, eggs and sugar.
“I don’t know what to do,” he mumbles, his widened eyes looking pitifully desperate. Pushing off the side, I wash my hands in the sink and return a moment later to help the usually arrogant fuck that probably wouldn’t have done the same for me. Nah, he’d have laughed and called me an asshat.
“When I was a child, my mom used to bake with me every Sunday. She swore by this trick, match the ounces and half the eggs. So, if you use six ounces of flour, butter and sugar, you’ll want three eggs. Or four ounces each and two- “
“I know how to make a fucking cake, Betty Cocker. You’re not the only one who had to learn to fend for himself young. I meant I don’t know what to do about Axel.” I still halfway through measuring the flour, torn between throwing the bag into his face and wondering what’s going on with them two. Although, I’ve already made up my mind to help my brother when he needs me and place the flour down on the counter, gesturing for him to continue.
“He said he should be enough for me, made it sound like he wanted to give whatever this thing is a real shot. And I’ve tried to open up, given him my full focus, everything a monogamous moron would do. But then Avery’s on the end of his dick and I’m just there thinking this is exactly why I don’t let people in.” I stare into his troubled hazel eyes, swallowing the jealously of Avery being with another and try to focus of Garrett’s problems. My shit can wait until later.
Reaching for the mixing bowl, I take an egg from its cardboard home and crack it evenly on the rim. Tipping the contents in and discarding the shell, I pull Garrett up by his white wifebeater so he can see properly. “Imagine the yolk is your heart, and all the white is the bullshit you hide behind. Now here comes Axel,” I pick a fork from the cutlery drawer and stab it directly into the middle. The yolk pierces and its yellow centre spills around the bowl.
“Letting him in will make you vulnerable, you might even bleed for a while. But if you persevere through the bad times, you can become something more, better.” I whisk up the egg vigorously until its massively frothy, happy with myself for that on-the-spot analogy. Garrett continues to stare at the bowl for a long moment, watching the top layer of bubbles pop and fizzle.
“Congratulations, that is officially the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard and seen all at once.” He leans across me to dump the pre-measured flour into the bowl along with a huge scoop of butter and pours a ridiculous amount of sugar in straight from the bag. Setting the bowl into a chrome, electric whisker, I huff and stalk out of the room, leaving him to his shitty problems and even shittier cake mix.
My foot hits the bottom step of the staircase before I still, the thought of returning to the emptiness of my room thoroughly unappealing. There’s only so long I can lie in the four-poster bed that sits in the heart of the room on a raised step, surrounded by chunky furnishings all in mahogany which give the space an ominous feel. No, shutting myself away will only make the void between our once tight-knit group grow and fester. I miss heading for pizza after ball practice, playing video games at full volume whenever Garrett brought a girl back to our house on campus, hosting Dungeons and Dragons every Sunday evening so we could unleash our inner geeks.
The thought of those days being over hurts me more than I care to admit. Despite one of us missing, I must believe we are able to band together and find a glimpse of happiness in each other’s company to grab on to. Even though I am the only one, I could forgive Wyatt if he walked through the door right now and asked to re-join us. Everyone gets misled sometimes, it’s his choices from here on out that will determine if he’s redeemable or not. Spinning on my heel, I stride across one of the many living areas and exit through the patio doors. The sun is hiding behind a cloud-covered sky, a slight chill in the air which I relish against my heated skin. A set of hammocks are on my left with a square, steel fire pit placed between them.
My sneakers leave footprints in the low-trimmed lawn as I stroll around the grounds, heading east first. Following the sound of trickling water, I find a rounded wall mirroring the curve of the mansion, dozens of wicker tables and chairs covering the outside space. A gap in the low wall gives way for a flight of stone steps, leading down into a well-designed garden. The slanted hillside holds multiple ti
ers, held in place by wooden slates to house flowers of all colours and varieties. A large water feature sits centrally at the bottom, pathways leading away from it in a maze-like pattern through tall hedges.
Winding through the tables, each one holding a closed parasol in the middle, I notice a platform at the far end framed by a wide wooden arch. The ballroom I haven’t seen before is visible through a set of double French doors, making this the perfect area for holding lavish parties. Continuing past, I skirt the mansion and find myself nearing the front gardens. Strips of luscious green follow a long, concrete driveway to the tall gates at the end.
A flash beyond the gate catches my attention and the long lens of a camera is yanked back into the half-open window of a red Mini Cooper. Fucking paparazzi, probably looking for a follow up on Axel’s return. Nothing stays quiet when you are rich. I start sprinting down the driveway, the brunette in the vehicle hastily speeding away with a loud screech of the tyres. I’ll get you next time. Turning back to the grand front door, Ionic columns standing proudly either side, I re-enter the house and circle back to the kitchen in search of food, hoping Garrett has cleared out by now.
Thankfully, the kitchen is empty as I find myself a banana and grab a couple of cereal bars from the cupboard. I glance at the oven to find it off, no deliciously sweet smell filling the room like I expected. The sound of chatting filters in from the living room along with the mystical soundtrack of Harry Potter. Deciding to investigate, I find Huxley, Avery, Garret and Axel sitting in that order across a lengthy cream sofa, the curtains drawn and plasma TV screen in front of them playing the opening scene from The Philosopher’s Stone.
