He rolled, pinning me with a bruising kiss. I took it greedily until he tried to deepen it. Morning breath? Hard pass. After another try, he changed tactics and kissed his way down my neck, cupping my breasts and continuing south.
“Ezra.” I half giggled, half moaned. “What are you doing?”
He answered by cupping my sex and pressing what had been my dry panties into the moisture quickly building between my folds. I barely managed to muffle a moan, and the sound of another tent waking up cut into the moment.
Silas and his lovers knew Ezra was Ezra, but six other groups crammed into the big room. If I moaned Ezra’s name, or even a fake one, his new persona would crumble. And that would be the end of that.
A laugh cut into the morning air. “Oh, you think so, Joe-baby.”
I bit my lower lip. Brit had spent the first few nights in my tent, until Ravana realized if she didn’t give Brit her own, she and Joe would go at it on the communal couch. Brit got a tent real fast.
“Your melons, boo. I need those in my face, right now,” Joe growled.
I assumed Brit got her melons squeezed because she let out a long moan.
Although the two weren’t quiet, ever, this was something else.
Ezra pressed his palm into my clit, and I squirmed and whispered. “Ezra, we can’t get caught.”
Brit moaned louder.
“You have good friends, Kitten; now lie back and let me explore.” Ezra pressed me back to the mattress and burrowed under our blankets until he was just a lump below my waistline.
Kitten. I grinned and lay back as he kissed and caressed the inside of my thighs. Without warning, he moved my panties to the side, slipped the tip of his finger into my opening, and dragged up. My inner walls gripped at nothing, and I stifled a little cry. I wanted so much more than a finger.
Brit let out a dramatic moaning scream, followed by a slow grunt from Joe. “You’re like right, boooo. Ah, my cock fits. I like your pussy, your shoulders, and your fucking face.”
Joe’s words killed the mood. I choked on a laugh instead of a moan, and Ezra slid his finger away, tugging my panties back.
“Shut up and put a baby in me, Joe,” Brit moaned.
“Boo, this dirty talk. I think I’m pretty good at it.” A slap rang, making me assume Joe slapped Birt’s ass. “I could play you like a bongo.” A flurry of different-pitched slaps followed.
Ezra lay beside me, hands behind his head, as we listened, whether they were actually going at it or just putting on a show for us. It was really sweet. And honestly, even if Ezra and I had continued, my thoughts were already drifting toward my second trial. Ezra would have had his work cut out to keep me in the moment.
“Does skipping a boink prove free will?” I whispered.
Ezra grunted.
“Yeah. Thought so.”
Xan warned me Ezra was bad in the mornings. I giggled, poking his ribs. “Joe’s amazing at dirty talk, just like you.”
Ezra sat up and ran a hand through his short hair, then rubbed it as if it hurt. “Coffee, then a run. Clear your head; it’s the Griersons today.”
I wrinkled my nose. No one knew what the Griersons’ trial would be. And Everly had gone silent. Too silent.
Brit and Joe’s moans broke the moment, absurd and loud. Ezra and I shared a quiet laugh anyway, because what else could we do?
Like yesterday, I layered up, ready for anything. Once again, everything but the center ring drowned in murky darkness. This time the ring had four platforms on its rim, teeth of a massive gear. A person on each.
Ravana led me across the front and up the ramp. My nerves returned, though I shook a little less. I immediately recognized the four people on the platforms, and my heart sank as I studied each face.
Brody, my stalker.
Matt, my kidnapper’s accomplice.
Erick, my roommate and coup attempter.
