Page 54 of Filled

“You wanna fuck my ass while I’m inside her?” he asks.

“If she wants you inside her.” Dante’s eyes come back to me. “Baby. Do you want him to fuck you, or do you want him to eat you out instead?”

I look at Cruz. The size of him. The way his chest rises and falls. The careful way he’s keeping his hands at his sides.

“I want him to fuck me.”

“Christ.” Cruz scrubs a hand down his face. “Sweetheart.”

“Then listen up.” Dante steps to the foot of the bed and Cruz goes a fraction taller, like a soldier called to attention. “We worship her. That’s the rule. Not we fuck her, not we use her. We worship. You hear me?”

Cruz nods. “I hear you.”

“We have the stoplight system. Green means go, yellow means slow down or check in, red means everything stops the second it leaves her mouth. You don’t argue, you don’t ask why, you don’t try to talk her back into it. Her safeword is Greyhound, but if she can’t find that then Red is red. Got it?”

Cruz mock salutes. “Got it.”

“If she taps out, same as a hold. You release. Immediately.”

“Yeah.”

“If she goes quiet on you, you check in. If she shakes, you check in. If anything in your gut tells you to check in, you fucking check in.”

“Dante.” Cruz’s voice is low. “I always listen when it comes to consent. Always. You know that.”

“I know that.” Dante’s mouth softens for half a second. “I also know what it’s like to be inside her, and how easy it is to lose that anchor. So I’m reminding you. And if you forget, I’ll personally remove your balls with my bare hands. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good.” Dante climbs onto the bed behind me, hands sliding up my ribs, lifting my shirt over my head. “Baby. You still green?”

“So green,” I breathe.

“Bra off.” His fingers find the clasp. “Underwear too. Let him look at you.”

I’m naked before I can second-guess it. The air hits my skin and Cruz makes a sound that should be illegal.

“Fuck me.” He stares. “Sweetheart. Look at you.”

“On your back, baby.” Dante guides me down, head on the pillows. “Knees up. Show him.”

I do it, and the look on Cruz’s face goes feral.

“Touch yourself.” Dante runs his palm down my belly to the inside of my thigh. “Let him watch you while I get him ready.”

I slip my fingers between my legs and stroke through the mess I’ve made of myself watching them.

Cruz climbs onto the bed at my feet, his eyes locked on my hand. “That for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes.”

“All that for me to feast on?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He drops to his elbows between my thighs and the first swipe of his tongue makes me arch off the mattress.

“Oh god?—”