“Damn,” Walker says under his breath as she locks Jay’s arms above his head, grinding against him, both groaning at the contact.
“Yeah,” I reply.
We stand frozen until Clara turns her dark eyes toward us. “More,” she demands.
And there’s no way either of us could deny her. Not when it’s all any of us wants. To give her more. As much as she can handle.
Walker steps aside, and I slide forward, pressing kisses down her spine, across her shoulders, the mass of her hair already a tangle. She brushes back against me, urging me closer with her body, and I comply, pressing myself against her back. Twisting, she meets my lips, her tongue hot and demanding, bold and unfettered.
Walker crawls to the head of the bed watching us, and I wish for a moment that I had an artist’s eye. What would I see? How would I translate this to paper?
Then he reaches forward, wrapping Clara’s hair around his fist, and she stills between Jansen and me.
“Princess, do you think you can take us all?”
“At once?” Her voice is breathless and a pitch lower than usual.
He reaches out to cradle her cheek while my own hands use her distraction to press long strokes along her sides, up her back, grazing the underside of her breasts as Jansen continues to play with her nipples.
“We’ll work up to that. No. I thought we might take turns.”
Her shiver is obvious, and it’s clear without words that she’s into that idea. The way my cock bobs says I am too. Although, I’m not sure about going second or third. The realization thatit might be overwhelming has my heart dropping, but Walker catches my gaze over her back and somehow understands.
“RJ first. I want to see you take him, strangle him with that wet, hot pussy of yours.”
“Yes, please,” Jansen mumbles, sliding out of her grasp.
She rolls, Walker releasing her hair, and her hands come to my cheeks, encouraging me down to her. “Are you sure about this?”
“Definitely.”
“In that case, what are we checking off that list of yours today?”
A grin sneaks across my face. Instead of answering, I dive into her mouth, our tongues tangling, my heart pounding in my chest like a bass amp centered in my ribs. Her skin is silky and warm, her mouth hot and wet, her hair cool and fragrant.
And I want it all.
Licking my way down her body, I plant a kiss at the center of her, her gasping moan shattering the rational thought I’d been holding onto, and I join her dance.
I devour her, every moan and groan validation, motivation. She comes against my tongue, and if I could, I’d be glowing pink with pride. Every time: new, different, vital.
Slinking back up her body, I give her mouth the same treatment until she’s writhing under me, her breath ragged with want.
I flip her onto her stomach, running my hands from her ass to her neck, leaving kisses in their wake. She looks over her shoulder, her eyes hazy but her grin bright. Then she hikes her ass in the air, knowing exactly what we’re checking off my list tonight.
When I slip in, the position feels tighter than before, which should be impossible. I barely held off the last time.
But this isn’t a solo show.
And this time, I know what to expect. Mostly.
The slide in and out is excruciating in the most amazing way possible, and with every snap against her, I understand in a way I couldn’t have before now, how much future we have to fight for. How many times we’ll come together, how many ways, always new. Fascinating. Breathtaking. So many other synonyms if I were a poet.
But I’m just a guy who found the girl he’s meant to be with.
And as I come, I send out thanks to whatever being that’s out there for the blessing.
She’s a blessing.
