Page 185 of Filled
“Red means stop, yellow means slow down. I know, Daddy.”
His jaw tightens at the name, the good kind of tight.
“Bedroom first,” Dante says, already standing. “Prep takes as long as it takes. No rushing.”
They undress me slowly. No tearing fabric, no desperate hands. Eight hands work in concert, deliberate, reverent. Cruz peels my shirt over my head and kisses the curve of my shoulder. Brady kneels to work my jeans down my legs, pressing his mouth to every inch of skin as it appears, the inside of my knee, the top of my thigh. Dante unhooks my bra with a flick of his fingers andEli catches it as it falls, and then Dante’s mouth is on the back of my neck and Eli’s thumbs are dragging my underwear down my hips and I’m naked in a room full of candlelight with four men looking at me like I’m sacred.
“Look at you,” Cruz murmurs. “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, and you’re asking us to ruin you.”
“Not ruin.” Dante’s teeth graze my earlobe. “Complete.”
They lay me out on Dante’s bed. The men strip between touches, clothes hitting the floor in a trail, and then it’s skin everywhere, warm bodies surrounding me, and Dante settles between my legs with the lube already in his hand.
“Breathe for me, baby.” He slicks his fingers. “We’re going to take our time.”
One finger first, working into my ass slow while Eli’s mouth finds my breast and Cruz kisses me deep and lazy and Brady traces patterns on my inner thigh with his fingertips. By the time Dante adds a second finger I’m rocking down against his hand, chasing more.
“Greedy girl,” Dante says against my hip. “You want it that bad?”
“Yes. God, yes.”
“Tell Cruz what you told me last week. About your dreams.”
My face burns, but Cruz pulls back from my mouth with interest sparking in those blue eyes.
“I dream about being full of all of you,” I manage. “Wake up soaked. Grinding against nothing.”
“Fuck, sweetheart.” Cruz’s voice cracks in the middle. “You dream about us stuffing you full and you didn’t say anything?”
“I’m saying it now.”
Dante works a third finger in and I moan, long and shameless, and Eli lifts his head from my breast to watch my face.
“Listen to her,” Eli says. “Three fingers in her ass and she sounds like she’s already close.”
“She is.” Dante crooks his fingers and I jolt. “She’s squeezing me like a fist. Give her your mouth, Brady. Let’s see how loose we can get her.”
Brady settles between my thighs, ducking under Dante’s arm, and when his tongue finds my clit I nearly come off the bed. Cruz pins my shoulders down, grinning above me.
“Easy, angel,” Brady murmurs against me. “We’ve got you.”
“Four fingers,” Dante announces, and the stretch drags a sound out of me that makes my whole body vibrate. Brady sucks my clit at the same moment, and the orgasm crashes through me without warning, my ass clamping down on Dante’s hand.
“There’s one,” Cruz says. “How many you think she’s got in her tonight?”
“We’re going to find out.” Eli strokes my hair back from my damp forehead. “You with us, princess?”
“Green,” I gasp. “So green.”
Dante eases his fingers out and there’s the cool press of the plug, thick and heavy, sliding into the space he made. My body swallows it and I whine at the fullness that isn’t enough, that’s just a promise.
“That stays in while we get ready.” Dante kisses my hipbone. “Keep you nice and open for us.”
They talk logistics in low voices while I float on the sheets, the plug shifting inside me with every small movement. I catch fragments—Eli and Dante on the couch, legs interlocked, Cruz on top, Brady standing—and the clinical planning against the throb between my legs is its own kind of torture.
“Living room,” Eli decides. “More room to work with. Cruz, grab the lube.”
They guide me back to the living room on unsteady legs. The couch cushions have been rearranged, towels laid down, and Eliand Dante position themselves on the couch facing each other, legs spread and interlocked, and when they shift together their cocks press side by side between them, both hard, both slick with lube, and my mouth actually waters.
