Brows cinching, Mason asks, “You want…a baby?” He looks as if he’s going to be sick.
“No! I mean, not anytime soon.” I’m rambling—which is never a good sign. It means I’m closer to losing my wits than I initially believed. “I just want the option, and I might not have that because apparently, I’m fucked up. Did you know that? Did you? I’m fucked up, even in the monster world. F to the U to the C to the—”
“We get it,” Vin interrupts, tone scathing. Eyes heated, he lunges forward until he captures my wrists in both of his hands, slowly lifting them until they’re above my head. “But why the fuck do you keep saying that about yourself? I don’t like it when you refer to yourself like that.” Fire blazes in his eyes as he surveys me from head to toe. My chest heaves as if he is physically undressing me, one piece of clothing at a time.
Mason lazily begins to trace my collarbone. “You’re not fucked up, Violet,” he whispers, and you know shit just got real when he uses my real name. His hand lowers until it’s cupping my breast, his thumb twisting my nipples through both my shirt and bra. His boyish smile makes him look innocent, but his chiseled jawline, broad shoulders, and prominent cheekbones make him appear anything but.
“You’re perfect,” Vin growls, leaning over me until I’m forced to fall on my back. “You’re a goddess, and the world’s too fucking dumb to see you as one.”
“You’re biased,” I point out as his tongue lowers to my neck, trailing upwards until it reaches the edges of my lips. I lift my chin, emulating the confident woman I’ve always wanted to be. And also giving him more space to worship me with those wicked lips of his.
“You don’t see yourself the way we see you,” he breathes, breath fanning against my parted lips.
“And how do you see me?” I’m barely breathing, my entire focus fixated on both the beautiful man in front of me and the second beautiful man beside me. My shoulders physically deflate as if a heavy rain washed away all of the tension.
“As someone to be loved and cherished,” he whispers before crashing his lips to mine. I moan low in my throat as his addictive taste bombards my senses, momentarily making me lose my mind. But I don’t want his sweet kisses. Not now. I want to punish him for making me leave Jack and Hux behind. For allowing me to live when Barret didn’t. For breaking my heart at the Halloween party those many weeks ago, when he disappeared with Cheryl instead of protecting me.
I bite down on his lip hard enough to draw blood before immediately licking it away, his flavor exploding on my tongue. Releasing him, I turn my head to the side to kiss Mason. As always, he’s an enthusiastic kisser, putting all of his passion and emotions into the heated kiss. Our tongues tangle together as he tugs my hair to the point of pain. Pulling away from him, I turn back towards Vin and resume where we left off. I know he can taste Mason on my lips, but that only heightens my arousal. My core is throbbing, desperate for what only these two men can give me.
I want to be punished.
I want to feel pain.
“Have you two ever…?” I gesture between the two of them, vivid images assaulting me. Mason pulling Vin into a fervent kiss, their lips clashing just as their personalities do. Their hands roaming each other’s bodies. Their cocks rubbing against each other with each clash of their lips.
“Head out of gutter, Pinkie!” Mason says, gently whacking me on the back of the head. “Not happening.”
“Not even a teeny tiny little kiss?” I ask, pushing out my bottom lip in a pout. Vin and Mason exchange a glance over my shoulder, and I swear I stop breathing. I can feel my arousal dampen my panties as a sultry grin pulls up Mason’s lush lips.
“One kiss, you say…” he whispers, crawling towards Vin. He runs his hands up his muscular thighs, his chest, and then his broad shoulders. Vin lowers his hands to Mason’s back…and then lowers them some more until they’re inches above his rock-hard ass.
They lean towards each other, eyes closed, and I rub my thighs together to alleviate the ache. I’m panting as if I’ve just run a million miles.
When their lips are a hair’s breadth apart, they turn towards me at the same time and begin to pepper kisses on either side of my neck, chuckling darkly.
“Not happening, Pinkie,” Mason says as he suckles my skin. Vin twists my face to recapture my lips, his tongue prodding the seam before I finally relent and open my mouth to him.
“Tease,” I breathe against Vin’s lips.
In answer, he merely resumes his brutal kisses while his hand cups and squeezes my breast.
“But just because we won’t play with each other…” Mason murmurs.
“Doesn’t mean we won’t both play with you,” finishes Vin. And sweet merciful Zeus, I swear I cream my panties right then and there.
“What type of play are we talking about?” I pant as Mason’s hand feathers underneath my shirt, across my stomach, and up to my chest. He begins to knead my tit through the lacy material of my bra, lips curved into a bewitching, sensuous smirk. “Jump rope play? Hopscotch? Uno?”
“What the fuck, Violet?” Vin murmurs as he plants kisses up and down my neck. When he reaches my
