Page 8 of Forbidden Want

Determined not to ruin what everyone else reveled in, she sat up. Pushing the women from their feast, she gripped Dasha’s hair, pulling her mouth up to share the taste the blonde had been enjoying. Her. That sweet nectar belonged to her, and Darla wanted in on the action, taking one kiss and another.

Easing Dasha onto her back, she took the kiss and guided the two women’s mouths together as she took advantage of the chance to know the taste of another woman. Kissing Dasha’s body as her own had been kissed, she rubbed her cheek against the woman’s breast and kept going south, trailing a hand down Darla’s body as Dasha’s legs parted.

The open invitation lured her curious mouth. She kissed, licked, rolled her tongue around Dasha’s clit and the beauty’s moan encouraged her. It was power. Going down on a guy was empowering too, but there was something so much more vulnerable about a woman in the throes of passion. Something much more giving too. With guys she was giving, and they were all about the taking, which was fine. That’s how she thought it went. But Dasha was giving even in the way she moved her hips, in the whispers of gratitude that escaped her lips.

Darla joined her, kissing the center of their third, touching their tongues even as she teased Dasha’s opening. Her curiosity was alive, captivated, lost in the moment of exploration. It was only the certainty of that hand on her hip that reminded her of the pleasure she craved.

When his blunt head probed her folds, her head rose just a fraction. It was impossible not to push back into that offering. She wanted it. More than her other lovers, more than her intrigue. He kept hold of her hip in one hand, his cock just there, resting against its goal. He couldn’t be so cruel, could he? Couldn’t tease her with proximity and withhold the drug she needed?

Dasha’s pants and squeals grew louder, but her own head just rested there on the woman’s thigh as Darla did the real work.

Grabbing her other hip, he surged forward. A spear of climax and agony shot through her.

She rose onto her knees, grasping for his hand on her hip.

“Conn,” she gasped, pleading with him as her back hit his body.

She tried to twist, to seek his mouth, but it was Dasha’s that found hers. The women kissed her, each other, but it was the man driving in and out of her that got her body glowing, her heart racing.

It was his hands she wanted on her breasts, not Darla’s mouth. Dasha was going lower, her tongue slid against her clit. But it didn’t last. Connel propelled into her, using the strength in his grip to move her hips fast. His other arm came around her, pulling her back to him, pushing Dasha’s head away from her body.

She couldn’t even think as she dropped to catch her weight on her straight arms. Dasha and Darla were down there, sort of beneath her, entertaining each other as the mass of orgasm built, stealing her breath, her sense, her wits. All she wanted was that. Him inside her, hammering hard, racing toward his own end.

“Connel!” she screamed when climax hit hard.

She sucked in a breath and braced; still static, immobile as the world kept spinning. He slid out of her, and she dropped onto the bed, slowing her breathing. In the middle of the bed, the blondes remained wrapped in each other. Neither noticed Connel enter the bathroom. She did.

Was he finished or was a blonde next? She didn’t want to watch that. Stupid as that was. He’d just watched the three women together and encouraged her to be free. Still, how would she feel witnessing him pleasuring another woman?

FOUR

HER BODY MOVED as she opened her eyes and there were his, just a few inches away.

“Connel,” she said, her voice hoarse. What a night… What did she remember? Oh, it took effort to rouse herself to check the bed. “Just us?”

“Extras don’t stay the night,” he said.

The sheet was over her breasts, but his torso was bare. Shit. Ripped wasn’t a strong enough word. Every ridge and groove threatened to torment her tastebuds.

“I’m not an extra?”

“Not as far as the world’s concerned.”

The world? Shit. Light shone from the living room into the doorless room.

She sat up, holding the sheet to her chest. “The world,” she gasped the words. “Oh my fucking God, the world.”

Forgetting modesty, she scrambled for the end of the bed.

“I can get ‘em back with a call, baby,” he said. “Relax.”

She looked left to right, searching the floor and coming up short. Her clothes… damnit, they’d be downstairs.

Suddenly, he grabbed her wrist to yank her down to the bed, on her back, him on her.

“Conn—”

He kissed her. Not gentle or slow, he was already massaging her breast, opening her legs with his.

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