Filthy F*ck Dreams

The air in the penthouse suite is thick with the scent of expensive cologne and something darker musky, electric, like the hum of a live wire just before it sparks. I stand by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights bleeding gold and crimson across the glass, my reflection a smudged silhouette in the haze of my own breath. My fingers tighten around the stem of my third whiskey, the ice clinking like a warning. This is a bad idea. But bad ideas have always been my specialty. Behind me, the low murmur of male voices deep, rough, the kind that vibrates in your ribs when they laugh. I don't turn. Not yet. The anticipation is a slow drag of fingers up my spine, a promise I've been starving for. I took this job knowing what it entailed. Client entertainment. A euphemism for the kind of night where the line between professional and personal blurs into nothing. And I want it blurred. I want it erased. "Millie." My name rolls off his tongue like a sin. Derek. The older one. Silver fox energy, sharp suit, sharper eyes. He steps into my periphery, close enough that I catch the heat of him, the faintest whiff of leather and something citrusy bergamot, maybe. His hand brushes my elbow, just a graze, but my skin prickles like he's lit a fuse. "You've been avoiding us." I finally turn, letting my gaze flick between them. Derek, all polished dominance, and Jace younger, broader, built like a man who knows how to use his hands. His sleeves are rolled up, forearms corded with veins, and when he smirks, it's all teeth, all hunger. "Just admiring the view," I say, my voice steady, even as my pulse kicks up. I take a slow sip, letting the burn of the whiskey ground me. "Didn't realise I was on the clock yet." Derek's chuckle is a dark purr. He plucks the glass from my fingers, sets it down on the side table with a click. "Oh, you're definitely on the clock." His hand slides to the small of my back, possessive, guiding me toward the couch where Jace has already sprawled, legs spread, the bulge in his slacks impossible to miss. My thighs clench. Fuck. Jace pats the space beside him, his gaze locked on my hips as I move. "C'mere, gorgeous. Let's see what you're working with." I sink onto the couch, the leather cool against my bare thighs my dress rides high, a deliberate choice. Derek doesn't sit. He stands behind me, his fingers finding the zipper at the back of my dress, dragging it down with agonising slowness. The sound of it is obscene, a whisper of teeth parting. "You've got a reputation," he murmurs, his breath hot against my nape. "They say you can take anything." A shiver runs through me. Not fear. Anticipation. I arch my back just enough to press my ass into him, feel the hard ridge of his cock through his trousers. "Depends on who's giving it." Jace groans, low and rough. His hand lands on my knee, slides up, fingers tracing the inside of my thigh. "Fuck, you're wet already." His touch is calloused, sure, and when he grazes my panties, the lace is soaked. My breath hitches. Derek's hands are on my shoulders now, pushing the dress down, baring me to the waist. The air hits my nipples, tight and aching, and Jace's thumb hooks under the waistband of my thong, tugging it aside. "Look at this pussy," he growls. Two fingers sink into me without warning, knuckles-deep, and I gasp, my back bowing. Derek's grip tightens, holding me in place as Jace curls his fingers, finding that spot inside me that makes my vision white out for a second. "So fucking tight. You gonna take us both, baby?" I can't answer. My mouth is open, my breath coming in short, sharp bursts as Jace fucks me with his fingers, his thumb circling my clit in slow, maddening strokes. Derek's lips are at my ear, his voice a dark velvet. "Answer him." "Yes," I choke out. "Fuck, yes." Derek's hands move to my tits, squeezing, pinching my nipples until I whimper. Jace adds a third finger, stretching me, and the burn is perfect. "Good girl," Derek murmurs. "Now show us how bad you can be." Jace yanks his fingers free, and before I can protest the loss, he's on his knees in front of me, his mouth crashing against my pussy. His tongue is everywhere licking, sucking, spearing into me while Derek's hands roam, one sliding down to join Jace, two fingers pressing against my asshole. I moan, my hips jerking, but Derek's other hand slams down on my stomach, pinning me. "Stay still," he orders. "Let him eat that pretty cunt." Jace's groan vibrates against my clit, and I cry out, my fingers tangling in his hair. Derek's fingers breach me, slow and relentless, his thumb pressing against my asshole, not entering, just threatening. The dual sensation Jace's mouth devouring me, Derek's fingers filling me, has me spiraling. My thighs tremble. My pussy clenches around nothing, needing more. "Please," I beg, my voice raw. "I need-" "You need this," Derek cuts in, and then his fingers are gone, replaced by the thick, blunt head of his cock. He doesn't ask. He doesn't warn. He just pushes, and I'm so wet, so ready, that he slides in to the hilt in one smooth stroke. I scream, my nails raking down Jace's back as Derek bottoms out, his balls slapping against my ass. Jace pulls back just enough to grin up at me, his lips glistening. "Fuck, you take that dick like a champ." Then his mouth is back on me, his tongue flicking my clit in time with Derek's thrusts. Derek sets a brutal pace deep, punishing strokes that have the couch creaking, my tits bouncing. Every time he pulls out, I feel empty, and when he slams back in, it's like he's trying to fuck me through the couch. "More," I pant. "I need more...please." Jace chuckles against my pussy. "Greedy little slut." He stands, his cock springing free as he unbuckles his pants. It's thick, veiny, the head flushed dark with blood. He strokes himself once, twice, then guides it to my mouth. "Suck." I don't hesitate. I take him in, my lips stretching around his girth, my tongue swirling over the ridge of his crown. The taste of him salt and musk mixes with the copper tang of my own arousal on his skin. Derek groans, his hips stuttering as I hollow my cheeks, taking Jace deeper. "Fuck, that's it," Jace hisses, his hand tangling in my hair. "Take it all, baby." Derek's cock swells inside me, his thrusts growing erratic. "You're gonna make me cum," he grunts. "Fucking milking me." Jace pulls out of my mouth with a wet pop, his cock glistening. "Not yet." He grabs my hips, hauling me up, and before I can process what's happening, he's flipping me onto my hands and knees on the couch, my ass in the air. Derek doesn't miss a beat he's behind me in an instant, his cock sliding back into my dripping pussy from behind. Jace steps in front of me, his cock bobbing at my lips. "Open up." I do. And then they're both fucking me Derek pounding into my pussy, Jace thrusting into my mouth. The couch rocks beneath us, the sounds obscene wet slaps of skin, my choked gagging, their grunts and curses. Derek's hands are bruising on my hips, his cock hitting that spot inside me that makes my toes curl. Jace's cock hits the back of my throat, and I swallow around him, my throat fluttering. "Fuck, I'm close," Jace groans. His fingers twist in my hair, holding me still as he fucks my face, his balls drawing up tight. Derek's rhythm falters, his cock pulsing. "Me too. Gonna fill this pussy up." The words send me over. My orgasm crashes into me like a freight train, my pussy clenching violently around Derek's cock. A gush of heat floods out of me, soaking the couch, my thighs, drenching Derek as I squirt, my body convulsing. Jace curses, his cock jerking, and then he's cumming down my throat, thick ropes of it that I swallow greedily. Derek groans, his hips stuttering as he buries himself to the hilt, his cum flooding me, mixing with my release. I collapse forward, my limbs jelly, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Jace pulls out, his cock still half-hard, a string of cum dripping from my lips. Derek slides free, his cum leaking out of me, running down my thighs. He smacks my ass, the sound sharp in the quiet. "Goddamn, Millie." I can't even lift my head. My pussy throbs, my clit oversensitive, my body still trembling with aftershocks. Jace drops onto the couch beside me, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my back. "We're not done with you yet." Derek hums in agreement, his hand sliding between my legs, gathering the mess of cum and my release, then pushing it back inside me with two fingers. I whimper, my hips twitching. "No," he murmurs. "We're just getting started."