Page 75 of Knot Your Problem, Cowboy
He doesn’t rush, but every second is intense, the kind that makes me forget where I am, who I am.When he finally pulls back, my breath spills out in shallow bursts, my lips tingling. He grins that sexy smile while sweeping a thumb over my lower lip, his gaze dropping there before flicking back to meet mine.
“Sweeter than any ice cream.” He lowers himself to my neck, taking long strokes, joining Walker.
“We should stop,” I whisper, then lick my dripping ice cream that is going everywhere.
“Are you sure?” Cash asks, pressing kisses along my shoulder.
“Because… because…” I lose my train of thought as Walker’s teeth graze my collarbone. “I can’t think when you do that.”
“Good,” they say in unison.
My ice cream is melting faster now, forgotten in my hand. A thick drop slides down the side of the cone, landing on the upper swell of my breast, slipping under the dress. Then another. The sound they both make is low and rough, less human, more instinct.
“Can we?” Walker asks, his fingers hovering near the neckline of my dress. His voice is tight, like he’s holding himself together by a thread.
I nod, breathless, already trembling.
Their hands move in sync as they peel the top of my dress down inch by inch. The fabric slips over my shoulders and pools at my waist, leaving me bare to the evening air and the scorching heat of their gazes.
They both go completely still.
“Fuck me,” Cash breathes, his voice pure grit. “You’re unreal.”
Walker’s hand grazes the underside of one breast, thumb brushing gently, like he’s trying to prove to himself that I’m real. “So soft,” he murmurs. “So goddamn perfect.”
Cash takes my other breast into his large palm, and at this stage, I don’t know how I’m still breathing.
My nipples are already puckered from the chill and the sheer anticipation. I shiver under their attention. They’re looking at me like they’ve uncovered something sacred and forbidden all at once.
Walker meets my gaze, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Pink,” he says approvingly. “I wondered.”
“You wondered about my—” I start, then pause, eyes narrowing. “You talked about this?”
“Might’ve come up,” Cash says, completely unrepentant.
Before I can respond, his mouth closes over one aching nipple. I gasp, body jerking at the sudden heat, and then Walker claims the other with equal hunger.
Their mouths are hot, wet, relentless. Tongues swirling. Teeth grazing just enough to make me cry out. They suck and tease, learning what makes me whimper and what makes my legs shake.
“God, look at her,” Cash mutters, his voice hoarse with awe. “Fucking angel. And we’ve barely started.”
I don’t know where to put my hands, so I grab oneof their shoulders with my free hand, nails digging in as the men devour me, worship me. Walker slides a hand around to the small of my back, holding me steady as I arch into them.
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss above my heart. “Still want this?”
“Yes,” I breathe, not even hesitating.
Cash takes the forgotten ice cream cone from my hand, the mango melt now sticky along his fingers. He catches a drop with his thumb and smears it on my nipple, then licks it clean, eyes locked on mine the whole time.
“Waste not…” Cash murmurs, voice thick with heat.
Instead of letting it drip, he presses the cold tip of the ice cream cone directly to one of my nipples, swirling it slowly, coating my breast. The shock of cold makes me cry out, spine arching, hips lifting like I can escape the sensation, but there’s nowhere to go.
“Fuck, that’s gorgeous,” Walker breathes, and before I can recover, he takes the cone from Cash and does the same to the other side, coating my skin in sticky sweetness. My nipples pebble impossibly tight, a fresh shiver racking my entire body.
Then their mouths are on me.
Hot tongues chase the cold trails of ice cream. Their mouths are everywhere, sliding, tasting, groaning against me like I’m something decadent they’ve waited too long to have. I feel teeth nip gently at theundersides, lips wrap around each tight peak until I’m squirming, my hands fisting in their shirts.
