Jordan reached forward, running the back of his hand down the center of her chest and back up again, enjoying how Amelia’s body rose to meet his touch. He teased goosebumps across her body, her nipples pebbled, taunting him to take a taste. He wanted to dip his head and sample the flavors that coated her smooth skin but enjoyed the whimpering and pleading sounds spilling from her lips too much to give in to his own wants just yet.
“Look at you, Ms. Wayne,” he murmured, “riding Monica’s thigh and chasing your pleasure. But it’s not enough, is it?” He walked her fingers back up the center of her chest and wrapped his own hand around Monica’s. He kept his grip light to not overwhelm either of them. He was just another bind, keeping Amelia pinned to Monica’s body.
“Oh, fuck me,” Amelia groaned, her hips moving faster against Monica’s thigh. Those two words made his knees shaky. Something deep inside of him unfurled and woke up from a deep slumber. It stretched out tentatively, eyeing the scene before him.
“Ms. Wayne,” he growled, “patience.” He shoved his thigh in between her legs, next to Monica’s. It caused Amelia to open up wider for them. He hissed out a breath when he felt her warm and wet heat against his slacks.
Jordan had forgotten. In his shock at seeing his executive assistant in a sex club and in the same room as him, he’d forgotten how she had planned to come to this event. A beautiful long dress with nothing underneath, fully bare so they could have their way with her without ever taking her clothes off.
He let out a pained chuckle. “Did you have time to put it on?” he asked, wondering if she had gotten the other requirement in as well. He did make her late, after all.
Amelia hummed low, her eyes closing. Her hips were still shifting back and forth with jerky movements until she paused, letting out a low groan that vibrated straight to his balls. She pitched forward, gasping for air. Her hands curled into his shirt again, her nails digging into his skin. He hoped she left a mark; he’d wear it with pride and let it be a physical reminder of what they shared.
Even if I can never revisit this again.
“Ms. Wayne,” he taunted, and he heard Monica’s light laughter.
“She’s wearing it.” Monica kissed her jaw. “It makes you super sensitive, doesn’t it? I could feel you soaking my leg.”
“Are you making a mess, Ms. Wayne?” Jordan tsked under his breath. “Maybe you should clean that up.” She whimpered in response.
“Not yet,” Monica smiled. “I think we can get her to make a bigger mess, no?”
Jordan could feel his body sizzling. They hadn’t really begun yet, and Amelia was already slipping into a pool of need and desire. Her sweet whimpers were music to his ears. But there was this one sound that had come from her, different than the rest. It was there every time he brushed his hands down the center of her chest. It was a cross between a whimper and growl. It came in short bursts like she wasn’t sure if she wanted more or liked the slow torment.
It was driving him crazy, making him want this night to last forever.
He eased Amelia back against Monica’s body. He remembered from the packet of information he’d been given that she couldn’t climax without a lot of stimulation. She sometimes needed to both feel full and have pressure against her clit. He remembered all too well the way she said it was easier for her when she was pinned down but still needed an extra push. Her mind never shut off enough to give herself permission to let go. It was the most candid he’d seen someone get when filling out the forms for partner matches.
“I need,” Amelia’s eyes rolled, and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. She was still moving her hips against their thighs, faster than she had before. Monica’s hand had disappeared in between their bodies, probably toying with the butt plug again, going by the low groans echoing around them.
Jordan knew they could easily move this to one of the props to help her get there faster, but he wanted to give her the first climax right here for them. The three of them had built a cocoon shutting out the rest of the room, though Jordan had never lost sight or the feel of others watching. It turned him on just as much as it made his cock hard watching Amelia writhe against their legs.
Her chest was rising and falling in rapid succession; he could feel her short burst of air across his face. Her skin was warm to the touch where he helped hold her up. Her chants were coming out faster and more incoherent, but there was a layer of frustration behind them too. He’d been on the receiving end of her annoyance enough to know all the levels of her impatience.
There was the eye roll that let him know she thought he was the dumbest creature on the face of the planet. There was the death glare he enjoyed. It let him know he got under her skin—that was his favorite.
The one he could feel seeping off her now told him she was seconds from walking away. If not physically, then mentally. He’d seen it when they’d been in tedious meetings listening to someone drone on about something pointless. Her eyes would get small around the corners, and she looked like she was a million miles away.
He didn’t want that.
She was going to pull herself out of the moment and into a space that would hold her back from letting go. He wasn’t sure if he or Monica would be able to get her back in this room once she hit that point.
“Ms. Wayne.” He kept his tone sharp, and her eyes narrowed.
There’s my girl.
He tapped Monica’s hand at her neck, and she slowly brought her hand down to Amelia’s chest. He wrapped his own hand around her slim neck, tightening his hold just enough to see Amelia’s eyes widen. He pulled her off Monica, “What do you need?” he growled. “Do you feel empty?”
“Yes,” Amelia cried out when Monica cupped her breast and trailed a path of soft kisses on her back and shoulders. Monica was whispering something with each touch—something he couldn’t hear, but he assumed Amelia could, going by the loosening of her body in his hold.
“Oh, my, I need. So close.” Amelia squeezed her eyes shut.
He leaned forward, running his tongue across her bottom lip. “Open up for me,” he murmured against her, and she complied with ease. He slipped his tongue inside, sampling the soft grunt she made when he pressed his thigh higher into her. He could feel her teetering on her tiptoes, could feel the rush of her hips as they slammed into him and away from him, like the tide coming onto the shore.
He kept kissing her, moving his hand to thread his fingers through her hair. Her body was being held up only by his and Monica’s. “I bet it feels so good, taking what you want from us,” he whispered against her mouth, squeezing her neck tighter.
“You’re soaking my and Monica’s leg.” He continued, pausing when he felt Monica press her lips just above his fingers on Amelia’s neck.
