Page 9 of Forbidden Heroes

“My turn.”

Mmm…that voice.

I shiver as it works its way over me like a third lover.

Using one hand, Elliot buries it in my hair and pulls me back to him, devouring my lips. If it’s possible to get drunk on a man’s taste, I found the way.

At first, I think Samuel will protest but he takes up the space behind me and Elliot shares my weight with his friend, never breaking our kiss.

Samuel sears the delicate skin of my neck with heated kisses and nips. I gasp into Elliot’s mouth when he brushes over my thigh with his hand and drags a rough, thick finger over my aching clit.

Elliot takes that moment of surprise to haul me up against his body, and I wrap my legs around his thick waist, moving my dripping wet pussy and drenched panties over the large bulge of his cock.

Samuel helps support my weight, taking my ass in both hands and between them, I feel light as a feather.

Elliot swipes my soft mouth with his tongue and I moan into his kiss.

I gasp, shivering and loving the way they work my body together with not so much as a word between them.

Warm, claiming lips find my bare shoulder and I slip my hand behind his head to hold Samuel close. Night cocoons us away from prying eyes, but I can’t help but wonder for how long?

I’ve craved this moment, dreamed of it, and I’m sad it could end before it ever really gets started. My heart hammers against my ribs, and I gently suck Elliot’s tongue between my soft lips. I tremble as he wraps his large hands on my hips and pulls me against his hard, very aroused cock. With nothing but a thin strip of wet silk between us, I feel every groove and shimmy my hips in small circles.

He growls. “Fuck me, you’re going to make me cum in the damn parking lot if you keep that up, sweet thing.”

“Me too, Professor.” It’s out of my mouth before I can call it back. Not like either man needs the reminder of just how off limits I am to them.

Samuel’s grip tightens. One little tug and he’ll have my off-the-shoulder dress around my waist.

I don’t remember telling my brain to reach for my nipples, but I do it anyway, and the cry of pleasure that comes out of me shocks us all.

Neither move.

And then, just as suddenly as it happened, both men break from me and Elliot is scanning the empty parking lot for any onlookers.

“Fuck,” he groans with a pained expression, putting my feet back on the ground.

He pulls away, slamming a meaty fist down on the hood of the truck I now recognize as his.

I’m stepping back from both and I suddenly feel the chill of the night. My eyes stay locked on the ground and I wrap my arms around myself.

“I’m sorry,” I start but quickly close my mouth. Where the hell am I going with it? I am not sorry and I refuse to say something I don’t feel. Screw feeling guilty for taking what I want, especially if it’s not hurting anyone.

Samuel leans his substantial weight against the truck and pulls me in as we let the night mask us, rubbing his hands up and down my arms.

“Don’t do that. None of this is your fault, sweetheart.”

I lean into him, absorb his nearness as raw, forbidden need pumps through my veins. Didn’t I tell my best friend I wouldn’t do this? I would simply do my studies, keep my nose clean and head down?

It is like I can’t help but act. To feel. And be felt.

I place my palms on Samuels’s chest and whimper when I feel all that taut, ripped muscle beneath my touch. It’s wrong to like such older men looking at me with so much hunger. More so to have such naughty thoughts about my professors, but I can’t deny the warm feeling of my hot liquid pooling between my thighs.

My fingers flex and my young body realizes it doesn’t want anyone else but them.

“Fuck, baby girl.” Samuel groans, sweeping a lock of hair from my cheek, and between us I can feel his cock twitch. Feel it? No, I can see it fight against the confines of his zipper and the size has me clenching my thighs tight.

Elliot is beside us with a grim look on his face and I pull out of Samuel’s arms. He’s reluctant to let me go but drops his hands to his sides and faces his friend.

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