killer instinct - || h.s. ||

67 *

WARNING: foursome ahead !

remember, if this isn't your niche, that's alright! just skip past this chapter.

i do, in fact, love it and so this all just for fun (and compensation for the hell they'll go through later on) but i hope you enjoy.

it's quite long !

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" type of sex you could never put a price on "

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aurora astor. *

My cheeks ache.

I couldn't help the ridiculous expression on my face, even with the tequila flooding liquid-heat through my veins. His fingers dug into my skin, securing my body to his like I'd leave like fade away into the stars like everyone he's ever known.

I held on just as tight, wondering if it was the alcohol or just the moment that made my heart thrash in the confines of my chest up against his. The rest of the room just seemed to fade out and the two of us clung to the bliss as long as we possibly could.

But I'm currently curled into the corner of Niall's L-shaped couch, gazing at the flat-screen built into the bookcase in front of me.

It was meant to be a continuation of the night with more homemade cocktails and cards, Harry's hopeful concept to get out of the loft more with Niall and Bella only fueling his fire. Instead, I'm sobering up to the movie I've only managed to finish in full in my own company flashes across the screen: 10 Things I Hate About You.

And right beside me, hip pressed up against mine, is Bella in her outfit from the night still perfectly in place. The sheen, black leather pants of her fit her form snug at her hips, descending her extended legs propped up on Niall's coffee table. And her top is covered in nothing but a green, wrapping halter top that exposes the underside of her tits and silky skin of her toned navel.

But I could hardly focus on the utter art that is Kat Stratford and Patrick Verona flashing across the 90s film reel. So long as her fingertips continuously trace the length of my thigh over the fabric of my cherry-red trousers snug low on my hips, my comfort movie is simply white noise to the teasing sensation.

And my breathing shallows in my chest as Bella leans over, spilling her sweet perfume across my nose. "What the hell do you think those two are talking about?" She mumbles under her breath, directing my attention to the open-concept kitchen beside the living space in Niall's house to the two of them engrossed in conversation with blank expressions on their faces.

A small laugh escapes my lips, shaking my head subtly while I turn my head to respond to her but her face is mere inches from mine. Widening my eyes in surprise, yet I don't even know why I'm surprised in the first place.

The two of us have been teasing each other all night, unable to erase the thoughts of her front molded to my back to pulse her body heat against mine — succeeding to make him jealous enough to finally get up, forgetting the rest of the world around us to dance with me in front of all of our friends.

But, fuck, every passing second with her sweet perfume and wandering fingertips lure me further into her trap have me nearly crumbling to pieces for her.

From the cascading hues of ocean-blue and deep-green swirled within her irises; to her sharp cheekbones guiding my eyes directly to her full, inviting lips; to her smooth caramel skin.