CREAMPIED BY MY HUSBAND'S TATTOOED BROTHER 2
I’M TALKING TO MY HUSBAND LIKE NOTHING’S HAPPENING WHILE HIS TATTOOED BROTHER PINCHES MY n*****s AND SLIDES HIS HAND INTO MY SOAKED SHORTS
I grip the edge of the counter so hard my knuckles turn white.
Rhys’s body is flush against my back, his c**k a thick, heavy line pressing between my ass cheeks through his sweats. One of his inked hands is still under my tank top, rolling my n****e between thumb and forefinger like he has all the time in the world. The other hand slides down my stomach, under the waistband of my sleep shorts, and cups my bare p***y.
“f**k, you’re drenched,” he breathes against my neck, so quiet Ethan can’t hear. “Been wet for me for days, haven’t you?”
“Mia? You okay?” Ethan asks. He’s talking about turbulence or someth
