End of the Innocence(19)

Brad leaned forward, laying me back, his hands replacing his mouth. “Do you want a blindfold?”

“No,” I gasped, opening my eyes and propping my body up, meeting his gaze, my stare flicking to the man standing behind Brad, his hands resting on the couch back, his eyes meeting mine. Dark blue fire. A confident smile. So much like Brad in so many ways. It was strange to have my eyes open, knowing the man I was looking at was about to touch me. To fuck me.

There was a soft slap of fabric as Marc removed his jacket and tossed it onto the sofa, fabric hitting leather, his hands unbuttoning and rolling back his sleeves. I watched his hands, avoiding his eyes, my cheeks warming, bashfulness overtaking me.

“Nervous?” His voice was quiet, a tinge of playfulness in their tone.

I looked up, meeting those dark depths. “A little.”

“Don’t be. I play nicely. Plus,” he said, looking over to Brad with a smile, “I’m scared of the big guy.”

“As you should be,” Brad spoke from underneath me, settled back down on the couch, his eyes on me, his hands running over my skin, over my breasts, rough then soft, perfect patterns that kept my nipples hard and my cunt wet. “She is my everything.” I smiled, looking down on him, his mouth tilting up, asking for, then receiving, a kiss. Damn. So much for that game plan. But I couldn’t stay away from his mouth. It fit too perfectly on my own.

I saw, out of the corner of my eye, the man move. Walked to the bar, fixed a drink, then moved closer. I glanced at him, saw him watching me, his hand moving down for a quick adjustment before he sat next to us on the couch, down a few feet. He reclined back against the leather, taking a slow sip of his drink, the clink of ice cubes registering to my ears. Brad pinched lightly at one of my nipples, drug my attention back to him. I leaned down, gave him a long kiss as his hands roamed me, strong drags of fingers across my skin, possession in every inch, every touch. He lifted up slightly, his hands pushing down my hips as he ground into me, the friction of his arousal causing my eyes to close, a small moan to slip out of me.

“Get on your knees. The ottoman.”

I looked back, understanding Brad’s directive when I saw the big leather ottoman, one that acted as a coffee table. I slid off him, letting him lean forward and drag the furniture piece over until it was flush with the sofa. He spread his legs slightly and pulled out his dress shirt. Unbuckling his pants, he drug down the zipper. “Your mouth. Come here, baby.”

I climbed onto the ottoman, getting on all fours, my hands helping to pull his cock out, everything in the room disappearing as I lowered my mouth to him. I loved to suck his cock. I loved the taste of it. It tasted of need. Of raw, animal want, and never failed to cause a twinge in my stomach, a weight of arousal in my sex. I pushed him down my throat and felt him harden in my mouth.

I was caught off guard when a firm hand closed around my ankle.





Chapter 14


I opened my eyes, my mouth full, and met Brad’s eyes. They stared into mine, no hint of a smile, nothing but raw possession in their depths. This is the animal Brad, my favorite side of him, a side I only see in these moments, when he is watching me with another, and every alpha male instinct is on high alert. His mouth moved, curved into a reassuring smile, but his eyes were dark. Aroused. I could feel his level of want in my mouth, hard and ready, his hand settling on the back of my head and pushing down. “Take it all.”

I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. But I took as much as I could, feeling, all the while, the slide of Marc’s fingers over my skin, his weight as it settled onto the ottoman behind me. Felt his hands slide up my leg and gently work the ankle strap of my heels, careful fingers working the shoe off. Thud. One hit the floor, my foot released, his hands moving to the other. Thud. Then my feet were bare, free, and his hands were on the move. Sliding up my leg, the doggie-style position giving him a front row view to touch, travel, and then—gasp, his tongue caught me off guard—taste my skin as he moved up my legs and gripped my ass.

♥♥♥

He wasn’t Brad; he couldn’t compare, the condom was an additional irritant, but the man could fuck. Holy hell, could he fuck. And from the glimmer in Brad’s eyes, he loved my reaction. I laid on my side, on the bed, Marc kneeling between my legs, his cock quick and fast, thinner than Brad’s, but hard as a diamond. He played rough, spanking my exposed ass cheek, the first hand laid, ten minutes earlier, light and questioningly, my grin and nod urging him to continue. Now he slapped my skin with aggression, the rough fucks taking me closer and closer to where I needed to be. I looked at Brad, his legs spread, still fully dressed, settled into a chair, his bare cock upright and fisted, his palm slowly stroking its length. Dark playfulness in his eyes. Why did I ever wear a blindfold? Jesus, the look in his eyes ... I’d get on my knees and scrub the kitchen floor naked if it would bring on that look. An intense heat, possessive and aroused. I cursed any moment that I missed out on it. Just a glance at it, and I was soaked.