Page 18 of Untether

He runs his free hand down the side of my neck, and I shiver. He doesn’t stop. His fingers trace my collarbone before he turns his hand and presses his knuckles against my nipple. Through the fabric of my strapless bra, the pressure is heavenly. Fleeting, and totally fucking unexpected, but still heavenly. I inhale sharply.

‘Hmm,’ he says, like he’s interested in my reaction. Like he’s noting it. And also like heapprovesof it. Then his hand is burrowing under my hair again, cradling my jaw, holding me closer against his ear. I keep ahold of his shoulder and shift on my seat, my bare thigh brushing his jeans as I do.

‘Then we got the ice cubes out,’ he continues. ‘And’—he gives a low, sexy laugh—‘you could say they were a success. Imagine, sweetheart, three guys tending to you with ice cubes. You’re not sure where they’ll hit next, but they’re swiping at your tits with them, and the cold feels so. Fucking. Good. Because you’re too hot—you’re desperate for something.Anything. You just need to come.’

‘Mmm hmm,’ I say dreamily, because this guy has me in a trance with his warm hands and his dirty words. The scent of him is so heady. He’s wearing some kind of cologne, but it’s super faint. He probably put it on this morning, and nowit’s just base notes that are woodsy and musky as fuck. Not that he needs it, because his skin smells incredible. He probably pumps out pheromones at a rate of knots.

‘One of my mates, the one kneeling between her legs, gets an ice cube in his mouth and starts running it over the scrappy thong covering that pretty little cunt of hers,’ he says. He’s got his mouth pressed to my neck, so his filthy words vibrate against my skin when he speaks them. ‘Doesn’t that sound good? Are you getting wet down there, just thinking about surrendering like that?’

‘Yeah,’ I confess. The confession shouldn’t feel as awkward as it does, because he’s got me so turned on. My clit’s now actually pulsing as bad as hers must have. God, having three guys as debauched as Callum touching you would send a girl through the fucking roof.

His hand leaves my thigh, and I’m instantly bereft. But the carnal sensation of his lips dragging down the sensitive skin of my neck is distracting. There’s the tinkling of ice cubes, and, before I can react, he’s holding an ice cube to my inner thigh. I jump at the cold. At the shock of it.

‘Can I show you what we did to her?’ he whispers against my neck. ‘I want to show you how good we made her feel—I can make it just as good for you right now, if you let me.’

12

AIDA

Years in the field have honed the skill of split-second decision making. Of assessing risk-reward. Right now is no different.

I shouldn’t be doing this. Not like this—not here, in a crowded club, before Callum and I have even worked out the parameters of this arrangement. Even through my fog of arousal, I know that much.

That said, I’ve been over-thinking this, spiralling about it, for months now, and I barely slept last night for worrying about how it would be with him. Whether he’d want it. Whether I’d freeze. Whether I’d be able to come up with the goods.

And here we are, and he’s hot as fuck, and he’s done a good job of convincing me he’s attracted to me. And I am so fucking turned on. I’m so close to coming up with the goods as he slides the ice cube up and down my inner thigh.

Up and down.

This is the perfect opportunity to push through the huge barrier I’ve erected in my head and just get back on that sex horse, for want of a better metaphor.

Besides, I want it. He’s gotten me all hot and bothered, and I’m ready to come. Ineedit.

‘Show me,’ I manage, and he lets out a low, rough noise in my ear that sounds like he’s struggling with his own levels of restraint.

‘That’s my girl,’ he groans. ‘Open wide for me. I know how badly you need it. Trust me—I’m gonna show you the tiniest glimpse of what I’ve got in store for you.’

I manoeuvre my legs as far apart as I can get them, tugging blindly at the tablecloth to ensure we’re still fully concealed. Callum’s kissing my neck, licking it, his beard a dangerously good combination of soft and scratchy. I arch my neck sideways to give him more room.

‘You smell incredible,’ he murmurs, sliding the melting ice cube up my inner thigh in a glacial trail. He swirls it right at the top of my thigh, and I dig my fingers into his shoulder in anticipation, and then it’s rightthere. Holy fuck—he’s swiping it through my centre, and the flash of cold through the ineffectual fabric of the thong I’ve already soaked through is like nothing else.

‘Holy shit,’ I say in a strangled voice, digging my fingernails into his shoulder.

‘If I thought I could get away with it, I’d get under that fucking tablecloth and tongue-fuck you with it, like he did,’ he tells me. His tone is heated.Intentional. There is no doubt in my mind that he’d do it, too. An image of Callum under the table, eating me, brands my brain, but it’s way too risky. Way too exhibitionist for my liking.

Besides, I need his huge body here, blocking me from these nice people enjoying their evening while I lose my fucking mind here on this bench.

Although—if he’s this good with his hands, imaginewhat the man can do with his tongue. My brain’s practically exploding just thinking of it.

He doesn’t seem to expect a response from me, which is good, because I’m out of practice where dirty talk is concerned. Instead, he resumes his commentary as he uses his cold, slippery little toy to wreak havoc on my lady parts. He hasn’t touched my clit with it yet, and it’s throbbing with need. There’s no way I’m comfortable telling this guy what I need yet, but I’m confident he’ll get to it when he’s done teasing.

I already know for sure Callum Sinclair doesn’t leave women unsatisfied.

‘So, get this: my other mate is kissing her, and I’m playing with her tits,’ he continues. He languidly rolls the ice cube over my swollen clit as he whispers in my ear, and I jolt at the freezing flash of pleasure, opening my legs even wider for him. ‘It’s so fucking full-on for her. Can you imagine, sweetheart? We’re crawling all over her, and we’re so desperate to get closer, but we have to keep her underwear on so we don’t freak her out.’

Out of sight of the rest of the patrons, he lets the hand on my neck trail back to my breast, flicking my taut nipple with his fingertip, and I groan as much at the pleasure of it as at his words.

His mouth moves, beard tickling, kissing a line along my jaw as he puts a finger to the side of my thong. ‘But you’re not scared, are you?’ he murmurs. ‘Because you’re a beautiful, carnal woman who knows what the fuck she needs. Right? Are you going to let me in?’

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