P*rnstation
The thin cotton was embarrassingly wet, clinging to me.
“Fuck,” Liam groaned against my neck. “She is. She’s dripping.”
I whimpered, my head falling back against his shoulder.
“You like this, don’t you?” he taunted, nipping my ear. “Your brother’s best friends cornering you in the kitchen, touching you like you’re our little toy.”
Jace’s fingers rubbed harder, the friction sending sparks shooting through my belly. I couldn’t answer, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think past the heat pooling in my core.