Page 159 of Groupthink

“You sure about that, Gracelet?”

“I—”

He kissed down my neck.

Slowly.

Gently.

My back arched as new desire electrified through me.

Sam slipped his hand under the small of my back and kissed down my body. When he got down to below my belly button, he shoved the rest of his arm under my back and picked me up.

I shrieked, then giggled.

Sam looked up at me with a pleading desire in his eyes. “You want me to spoil that perfect little pussy, Gracelet?”

I ran my fingers through his dark, curly hair. “Yeah.”

Sam glanced at Noah, watching from the chair. “See? It’s aboutherpleasure.Not yours.”

I touched his chin and guided Sam to look at me. “Don’t worry about him.”

“Yeah, Sam, don’t worry about me,” Noah taunted from the chair, still slowly stroking himself. “Show me how it’s done. Make her pussy forget this dick. She keeps looking over at it while you’re kissing her.”

I bit my lip.

I had stolen a few glances…

Sam’s expression hardened for a fraction of a second, but then melted into his soft, slightly amused look. “She can look at whatever she wants. Again…” He shot a glance at Noah. “It’s aboutherpleasure, not yours. Now watch.”

Sam lowered me down on the bed.

He looked down at me with an expression of pure reverence, like I was sacred or something. “You’resobeautiful, Grace.”

“Th-thank you,” I said. Again, I wanted to shy away from that. That realness; that intensity; that emotional stuff.

Couldn’t this just be fun?

Sam reached out and touched my hip, then slowly dragged his fingers to my inner thigh. His lips came apart slightly and his Adam’s apple flexed up and down.

My body pulsed with desire.

My eyes fell to the blue tattoo star on his hipbone and—

More sapphire stars intersected and spun off from it with different designs and line weights, decorating more of his skin. It wasn’t like that last time…

Sam moved his fingers to just below my labia.

I could feel the heat from his fingers, just centimeters away.

I glanced over at Noah.

He watched, hypnotized, his mouth slightly open.

His hand gripped his shaft, massaging the skin up and down so slowly it was hard to tell if he was moving at all.

“Don’t look at him,” Sam said sternly. “Look at me.”

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