Page 53 of Drawn By Dragonblood
My inner giddiness intensified, making my breaths come in pants. Oh, the power sitting on the edge of my lips…
I glanced over at Elijah.
He didn’t move from his seat on the couch a little ways away from us. Nothing about the man’s presence hinted at submission, but he seemed acquiesced to let Jon lead for the time being.
Perhaps I could test that assumption later.
Jon stood and turned toward Elijah.
God, how I wished to be that fly so I could buzz around and see his face. I no longer existed for Elijah—he only had eyes for Jon as my husband approached him.
Jon stepped between Elijah’s spread knees, and he sank down to his own, offering me a view of both of their profiles.
A low rumbled growl emitted from one of them—Elijah, I guessed, considering how he stared at my husband.
I gulped and whimpered again, my pussy pulsing. “Holy shit, this is so hot,” I couldn’t help but whisper encouragement for them to continue.
As if they would stop having been given the green light.
My man had willingly dropped to his knees for the obvious dominant male in the room without having to be commanded to. Had he dreamed of kneeling before Elijah? Had he wondered how the man would react?
Elijah shifted to the edge of the couch, his shoulder muscles bunching, hand shaking as he reached for Jon. His fingertips caressed with gentleness rather than the blatant display of animalistic hunger that seemed to seep from his pores whenever he stared at my husband.
“Don’t hold back,” Jon rasped, the urgency in his voice making me curl my fingers to keep from touching myself and getting off long before either of them did.
Elijah grasped Jon’s neck and yanked him close, their mouths coming together in a rush.
“Oh, God.” I squeezed my thighs together and bit my lower lip at the rough way their lips meshed.
Teeth gnashed, and groans flooded my ears as they acted with desperation to sate their hunger for each other. Jon’s fingers dug into Elijah’s thighs as he yanked on Jon’s hair, angling his head to better plunder my husband’s sweet mouth. They both gasped for breath, lips parting momentarily, before crashing back together again.
Arousal leaked from my core, and I couldn’t find it in myself to care I would leave wet evidence on the couch of what their appetite for each other did to me.
Like a violent storm bent on breaking everything in its path, the two men’s passion crashed into me, igniting something deep within my soul, an unnameable yearning that went far beyond lust and mere need for release.
The storm inside me swept me toward the abyss, and I was powerless to stop falling into the unknown.
How did one return to normal after sharing intimacy outside marriage?
I was convinced Elijah was meant to be our third, but would Jon recognize the truth of our connection with him?
He lusted for Elijah, but was it possible for him to bond in the way I swore I could feel along my skin? Like energy wrapping itself around me, drawing me closer to the man who I somehow knew would fulfill us in every way.
The truth of what the three of us could be went beyond fantasy. My mind wasn’t simply in the clouds this time.
Something real—tangible—drew us together.
Need to be a part of what the two men experienced in front of me singed along my arms, and I unintentionally moaned loud enough they became aware of my presence once more.
Jon tore his mouth from Elijah’s and glanced at me. Black pupils dominated the sky blue of his irises. Lips bruised and swollen asked if I was okay, but I didn’t hear his voice past the rush of blood in my ears.
“Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop,” I heard myself whine, writhing in my seat, hands fisted at my sides to keep from reaching out and begging to take part in what they shared.
Elijah yanked Jon’s hair, pulling him back to claim his mouth again, and when he reached between them and grasped Jon’s hard-on, I bit my lip. As though the strength left Jon’s body, he sagged forward, his forehead resting on Elijah’s as the man shoved Jon’s shorts down.
Elijah spat on his palm and wrapped his hand around Jon’s cock.
“Ah, fuck.” Jon gulped and thrust into Elijah’s hold, wetness beading at his slit.
