Page 55 of Drawn By Dragonblood
We had shared in release at the same time, bringing a sense of satisfaction I hadn’t know existed.
And to think we’d only just begun.
Chapter 20
Jonathan
Elijah’s and my gaze met over my wife’s back. I felt sexually sated for the time being but hardly satisfied.
Longing for so much more knifed at my chest, making me want to lean into him and kiss his soft-as-fuck lips. Inhale the sweetness of his breath and give over to the firmness of his grasp and the command of his voice that almost had me nutting before burying balls deep in my wife.
His eyes mirrored the desire in my head—in my fucking soul.
One taste, and he had me by the fucking balls. Fucking owned me in a way Dakota never could.
Still buried in my wife’s body, I pulled her back against my chest, smoothing her hair away from her face. The love of my life, my person, my better half…
How could it be Elijah had taken a piece of me—without even taking me?
Unease slithered down my spine, but I couldn’t pinpoint why.
Past trauma?
Emotional damage from childhood?
Whatever the fuck supernatural desire to kneel before another man coursed through me should have at least left me unsettled with my suddenly changed sexuality.
My dick preference in the moment, I didn’t give a shit about.
It was the making myself vulnerable by submitting that worried me, considering how I’d been manipulated by the foster fucker who’d raised me.
With Elijah, I’d offered myself as a gift. I’d been the catalyst again to span the distance between him and Dakota, and strangely, that truth gave me a sense of purpose.
My dick still rested inside my wife’s warmth, and I had zero desire to shift her off my semi and end the moment among the three of us even though Elijah was no longer physically connected.
I could still feel his touch as though he’d burned marks on my skin.
I ran my hands over Dakota’s stomach, loving the softness beneath my fingertips and how Elijah’s gaze tracked the movement with a different type of longing in his pale eyes.
My heart ached for him even though I had no fucking clue why.
Lifting Dakota off my dick sent a rush of cum down over my balls, but I shuffled forward on my knees, placing her on Elijah’s lap.
“I’ll get something to clean us up,” I said, standing on shaking legs. I made it to the kitchen sink without glancing back.
Thank fuck for thirsty paper towels. Dakota—or I—had made a hell of a mess. She’d never come so hard around me in all our years of fucking, and her second climax right on the heels of the first had sent another rush of liquid to drip down my balls.
“Damn.” I tossed the used towels in the trash and grabbed a few more handfuls before turning.
Elijah cradled Dakota to his chest, his eyes closed, lips pressed against her hair. One hand soothed down her arm, the other wrapped around her legs, clutching her close in a possessive hold that didn’t inspire jealousy like it should have.
That damn ache knifed again, and if it weren’t for my handfuls of paper towels, I would have scratched my chest in attempts to lessen the weird as fuck pain that didn’t actually hurt in a physical sense.
He cradled her while I knelt in front of them and cleaned between her thighs. Her shuddering sighs while resting against Elijah’s chest, eyes closed, furrowed his brow and stirred some sort of weird satisfaction in me. Both of us cared for my wife, and the connection I felt for the two of them—I didn’t have fucking words as I watched him look at her as though she was the spring sun that chased winter away.
I understood the sentiment. Fucking experienced it in every cell of my body. She was an addiction, and the need for more of her could never be sated. And I didn’t blame Elijah for experiencing her sweetness and yearning for another dose along with me. Would do it again should either of them hint at wanting more.
Elijah finally looked me full in the face, and for the first time since meeting the man, he allowed me to see him in ways I had yet to offer to him.
