Page 132 of The Pact

Holding out a hand, I invite him to join us. My fingers brush over his cheek before hooking under his chin. I guide his mouth to mine, not wasting time on being sweet. I’m hungry for him.

Swiping my tongue over his bottom lip, tasting the lingering salt and lime on him before slipping into his mouth. Sutton matches my eagerness, swallowing the moan that slips from me. White hot electricity courses through my veins.

I should care that we’re on display. Surely we’ve drawn a crowd. However, I can’t muster shame or anything close to it. I can only focus on the overwhelming desire that is pushing my sanity and dignity over the edge because right now, I just want to fuck both of them.

Eventually, I pull away from Sutton to catch my breath. A quick glance around tells me that no one cares what we’ve been doing. It’s dark aside from the colorful flashing lights and everyone’s too wrapped up in themselves to pay any attention to me.

Well, everyone except Damian and Wesley who have their eyes laser focused on the three of us. I need water and a moment to rest my feet. My soles are stinging. “I need to sit for a few minutes,” I call out, breaking away from them, not waiting to see if they follow.

I hurry back to our booth. There’s plenty of seating, but I grab a water bottle off of the table and plop myself into Damian’s lap. His body goes rigid and I roll my eyes. Modesty from the man who literally spanked me on the dock a week ago? That’s rich.

Despite his less than welcoming body language, I don’t move—instead I settle in closer.

Uncapping the water, I drink nearly the whole thing. Sutton and Cole take a seat in the booth, not interested in dancing with any of the women who tried to grab their attention after I left.

“You can dance with them,” I say loudly over the music, tipping my chin at the blonde and redhead who are staring at us. “I won’t get jealous. I promise.”

Cole and Sutton don’t look amused. But it’s Wes that speaks. “Blue eyes, we have no interest in dancing with anyone except you. And we don’t buy for a second that you wouldn’t get jealous. Just like we wouldn’t let another man dance with you.” I give him a look of defiance. In my head, I tell myself I can dance with whoever I want. “You’re ours,” he asserts.

The words chase my rebellion away. Between the way he says it and his set jaw, I know he isn’t joking. What would they do if someone else tried to dance with me? The memory of Damian throwing a punch and threatening Gavin comes to mind.

I swallow hard and break Wesley’s stare.

A new beat drifts through the speakers. I’m desperate to chase away the tension I’m feeling. I have a little more of my energy back, but not enough to hit the dance floor.

Starting slowly, I move my hips in Damian’s lap to the rhythm of the song. I think I hear him groan softly, although I don’t glance back to confirm. Instead, I lean my back onto his chest and let my head drop onto his shoulder.

My lids are heavy with lust as Damian’s breath tickles over my neck. His arm wraps around my waist, locking me in—my body tightens in response.

I pick up the pace, circling my hips purposefully until I feel the press of his cock through the thin satin of my dress. My lips part and I’m lightly panting as I rub against him, wishing I could do much more than this.

“Fuck, she’s going to come if she keeps that up,” Wesley suggests. I look over to find him watching us with desire in his dark eyes.

My gaze shifts to Sutton, who’s next to us. “She likes that, getting off without even getting undressed. Isn’t that right, Thea? Do you enjoy feeling how hard he is through your clothes?”

“Yes,” I whimper as Damian shifts his hips and slides down a bit. He pushes into me and I rub against him in response.

Wesley’s right. I’m going to come if I keep this up. I should stop, but my need is too strong, making me press into Damian harder.

Sutton shifts his body so he’s leaning close to my ear. “How good does his cock feel? Is he getting you wet?”

I nod, his words pushing me close to the edge. “He feels so good,” I moan softly. Damian’s hand tightens around me.

“I bet he’d feel even better if you didn’t have this dress in the way.”

My eyes lock with his. I’m in a blissful haze of desire and alcohol. I’m not sure how he does it or why I let him, but Sutton slides my dress up. “Lift up for me, baby.” I listen. Why do I listen?

The slit and looseness of the bottom of the dress make it easy for him to bunch up the back while keeping the front pulled down.

Sutton brushes a curl from my face and then kisses along my jaw. “Better?” He asks.

Without the dress in the way, Damian feels amazing. Even through his pants and my panties, I’m able to find a rhythm that pushes me towards my climax. “Yes,” I say breathlessly.

My eyes dart over to Wesley who’s palming his cock, wanting to join or stroke himself at the very least. On the other side, Cole has his eyes locked on me. He shifts and I can tell that he’s hard, too. Fuck, why is this turning me on more?

Leaning my head back on Damian, I focus on the rhythm of my hips, how his bulge presses perfectly into my sensitive clit, and Sutton as he talks me through it.

“That’s it, baby. I want you coming all over him. Make a mess of his pants.” He flicks my ear with his tongue before taking my lobe into his mouth, sucking and biting. Sutton’s hand runs over my neck, his thumb brushing over my jaw. I turn to look at him. That burning amber gaze steals my breath.

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