Page 100 of Brazen Mistakes

We’re not coming together.

I’m coming, and then I’m joining those two in torturing her.

When she screams, I’m going to have my hands on her.

I pound into her mouth, using her hair like a damn pulley for a fucked-up blow-job machine, and I come fast, riding the waves of pleasure as she laps me up, licking me clean, then cleaning her lips like I’m made of honey.

How did I get so damn lucky?

Then she gasps, her hands slipping from my lap and landing hard on the floor, rocking her hips back.

Jansen chuckles, nipping her ass as he works a finger in and out of that tight hole, three of his fingers glossy with something. Likely glossy withher.

Slipping off the chair and kneeling in front of Clara, I grab her chin, forcing her unfocused gaze to mine. “You’re doing great, princess. But no coming. Not yet.”

“But why?” she whines, freezing as Jansen adds a second finger.

Some day.

Fuck.

But not tonight.

“You haven’t told me what you want,” I say, knowing I’m being an ass and loving it.

“I fucking want to come, you, you, jerk-face.”

The lack of appropriate curse makes it hard not to grin, so I don’t hide it, and she hisses at me. But it turns into a moan when RJ does something to her, and it’s time to get in on this.

I take her breasts in my hands, squeezing them, tracing around her nipples as goosebumps race across her skin, sweat gathering along her hairline.

“Shit shit shit,” she chants, rocking against RJ, so fucking close.

“Not yet.”

“Fuck you.”

“Then ask.”

“Shit. I just want to come. Please.” Her dark eyes plead, her makeup totally fucked, those sweet lips open as she pants.

Pinching her nipples, she gasps, a few tears falling, her head thrown back.

“Come, princess. Come for us.”

It’s like I have a magic command, because she shatters, her cries coupled with a shaky collapse between us, and damn. I feel like a god.

Pants fill the room, the four of us folded together on the floor, all of us savoring whatever the hell that just was.

I press a kiss to her lips, and as her tongue strokes mine, that damn love, still so new, still bigger than fits inside, floods me. Holding her face in my hands, our foreheads and noses touching, I can’t keep it in. “I love you, Clara.”

She presses another kiss to my lips, sweetly. Coming down. “I love you, Walker.”

Scooting back, I create space for first Jansen, then RJ to kiss her, to touch her, to build on whatever this is between us all.

Jansen sneaks out, still buck naked, while RJ whispers to Clara, and I arrange his bed before we tuck her in between us.

When Jay comes back, he glares at us for not leaving him a space, but ends up curled up with his head on her lap, body cradled between her legs. There’s no way he isn’t happy there, and his eyes drift closed as she combs her fingers through his hair.

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