I pulled at the tied sleeves. When I started moving again, I wanted it to be her sweet skin sliding against mine, not Nick’s fucking shirt. I needed all of her. The knot slipped loose, and buttons flew in the frenzy of my tearing hands.
Thea’s arms came free, immediately falling forward on a sigh. I pulled her back so that she was once more sitting in my lap, this time with my cock seated deep inside her. It felt fucking glorious, the kind of sensation that made the room around us break away. I held her tight against me, angling her face back so that I could steal long, sensuous kisses with each joining thrust. The clothing swayed around us in soft caresses, and Thea never once seemed to notice.
Throwing the blindfold to the ground, I looked at the power vibrating in her eyes. Not a trace of fear was left. Any doubts I’d had about this being the right thing to do were now lost in their depths.
Thea draped one arm around my neck for leverage, while the other dropped between our splayed legs. Her hand circled the base of my cock, feeling my body entering hers. I threaded my fingers between her slender ones, pushing her thumb against her swollen clit and using my index finger to stretch her just a bit more. Sliding along the rigid length of my shaft, her needy pussy took it all.
Our bodies surged as one. The rhythm was hypnotic. My dick slipped through our hands, her pussy clenching hard as I fucked her with slow, deliberately deep thrusts. Finally surrendering her control, Thea erupted. Her entire body flushed bright red, visible even in the low light of the closet. A flood of arousal coated my fingers, slicking down her thighs. Arching her spine and pulling against my legs, her body fought against the pleasure I pulled from it.
She tilted into my hand, forcing my fingers deeper as I increased our pace with every punishing hit. I knew with a few carefully timed strokes, it would only take another minute to shove her over the edge into another orgasm. Tightening my grip on her breast, Thea’s nails cut into the back of my neck, where she was hanging onto me like I was the only thing keeping her from drowning.
Sliding my thumb against hers, I caught her clit between us, pinching it hard. The effect was immediate—Thea screamed, the still raw vocal cords shredding apart her cries in wave after wave of ecstasy. Before her body liquified in my lap, I allowed myself the release I’d been denying for days. Closing my mouth over her still quivering lips, I came with such intensity that my vision flared with enough light to make the dark room feel like we were dancing on the surface of the sun.
It took several long minutes to remember what planet we were on. Pulling free, I flexed my hand, already knowing it would be sore for days. Thea blinked up at me in a daze.
Fucking worth it.
Chapter 34
Fallingasleepbeneatharack of designer shirts might be on a list of weirdest places I’ve ever slept, but it was infinitely less strange than when I awoke, back in bed, wedged between two walls of muscle. It was like waking up in the middle of a very hot, very sexy burrito—but mostly just hot. Crowe, at any normal time, was a sauna, and Danny, despite acting cold as ice, was warm enough when he slept to melt parts of the sun.
The biggest shock wasn’t the surprise relocation, even though it took me more than a minute to realize where in Oz I was. It was the way the boys were laying with me. The bed had been small when it was just me and Danny in it before. With Crowe wedged into the bed, too, it was practically impossible to tell what body part belonged to whom. What felt like too many limbs snaked around me. Arms twisted around my neck, shoulders, and hips. Legs wrapped between and beneath my own. There were hands splayed wide over my stomach, breasts, ass, and neck.
All of it reminded me of a book I stole from Aunt Em’s shelves. I was never allowed to read her books. No one was, because, “Those books aren’t for reading.”What good were all those pretty pages and vellum inserts if you never opened the book to look at them? Those books deserved to be loved, and Em telling me not to do something was practically a dare, so it was no surprise when the very next thing I did was steal a book. Reading was the only escape I ever got from The Farm, and there was something especially gratifying in knowing I was doing it with her precious special editions.
I picked that particular book because the woman on the cover looked elegant. She wore a perfectly askew hat, a large dress and leaned on a closed parasol like it was a gentleman’s cane. Her expression was confident, and the dark mansion on the cliff behind her made me think the book was a gothic mystery. The foolish child in me thought I might be getting a novel about a woman detective. To an extent, I wasn’t wrong. There was murder, and the woman was solving it. She just also happened to be seduced by a man who could manifest tentacles.
The book was undeniably entertaining and made me question my sanity when I realized that mythical squid shifter porn was actually arousing. Until now, it seemed like pure fiction, but here I was, wrapped up in limbs like I was in the middle of my own absurd fantasy.
I blinked my eyes slowly, focusing on where my hand rested against the firm lines of a lion tattoo. From this position, he looked more like he was yawning, than roaring. Danny must have found us in the closet, and somehow the two of them moved me back here. Rather than give the other the option of sleeping with me, they’d just decided to stake their claim.
Crowe’s deep, rhythmic breathing drifted over my shoulder. It was his arm supporting my neck, and reaching around to sleep with a handful of my breast, like it was his very own security boob. Not that Danny’s handful of my ass was any better.
Slowly, I burrowed my way out from between them, priding myself on managing to do it without waking either of them up. Even better was that I’d also managed to rearrange them so that they now had new handfuls to fondle in their sleep. I made a quick spin of the room, finally finding where the bag with my clothing was discarded.
My joints and muscles were still sore in a few places, including some delicious new ones that only came from a night of being well fucked. Smiling at the burn between my legs, I stretched. The pull at my back stung a bit more than the previous morning. I probably shouldn’t have been quite so zealous with the boys, but then again—I drifted my eyes over the pile of sleeping muscle, remembering the look Crowe had given Danny—I regretted nothing.
Gingerly tugging on some leggings and an oversized sweater that must have belonged to one of the boys, I padded into the kitchen in search of water and maybe a bagel. Or a dozen bagels, my stomach felt achingly hollow.
Nick was in the kitchen brewing what looked like the world’s tiniest pot of coffee and humming quietly to himself. I didn’t recognize the tune, but his pitch was enchanting. It was a deep baritone that wrapped itself around you like heavy velvet. His singing voice was probably something I could listen to for hours. Not that I thought he’d ever sing for me. Unless it was a dirge or something equally foreboding.
I hovered in the doorway, taking a minute to observe the normally reclusive man. The tattoos that coated almost all of his visible skin were clearly on display. His usual black shirt was discarded, leaving him in only a thin undershirt. Down the length of his arm were what looked like scientific sketches of the bone structure of an arm, the skin flayed and pinned back with tags, muscle removed. Except, these bones were broken in several places. Holding the fractured pieces in place were several vines of blooming nightshade.
Before I could take the time to study how it transitioned over his shoulder into what looked like plate armor, Nick turned. “Were you going to keep staring, or did you actually want something in here?”
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that he was aware of me the entire time.
“You offering?” I asked, coyly leaning against the counter.
His eyes slowly tracked down my body, sending a rush of unexpected heat flooding through my senses. When they snapped back up to mine again, they were full of cold indifference, dousing anything I might have been feeling.
“From the sounds of things last night, I’m pretty sure you’ve already got your hands full.”
Heat rose to my cheeks, but I tamped down the urge to be shy. I certainly hadn’t cared about being heard last night, so why should I now.
“I was talking about the coffee,” I added sweetly, gesturing towards where one of those weird silver coffee pots gurgled on the stovetop.
“It’s not done yet. You can’t instantly have something because you bat those long lashes over your pretty eyes. Some things require time and patience.”