Owned: A Mafia Menage Romance(151)

He sucked at my lips and I drank him in, high on the cocktail of his lust. Submitting completely without hesitation, I flung my legs out wide across the leather seats. He pushed himself over me, forcing me to lean back as he massaged my clit into an explosion.

Moaning into his mouth, I felt the orgasm coming on like a freight train and just laid myself right across the tracks and waited for it. His fingers made wet sounds against my slippery folds and the next thing I heard was my own voice, a desperate howl bursting from my lips, filling his mouth.

“Oh!” I whimpered. My back arched and my hips heaved against him, them I clamped my thighs around his hand, trying to keep him still against me.

“Patience isn’t always required,” he teased as I shuddered and wriggled against him. “Sometimes you get exactly what you want, when you want it.”

My legs felt like rubber and my pulse still punched insistently against the pit of my throat as Anders drew the car to the curb. We climbed out of the Bentley and onto the sidewalk, my eyes shyly averted from Anders, who must have heard or seen every moment.

Jackson looped his arm around my waist and pulled me close, my back to his front so I could feel the rock-hard reminder of his beautiful cock against the crack of my ass.

“You really do something to me, Margot,” he growled against my neck.

“You really do something to me too,” I whispered, rubbing my ass back and forth against his trousers, weak and full of joy.

“And you should really, really give me that,” he said, pulling me tight against him so I could feel his dick nudging between my ass cheeks.

“I’m saving that for someone special,” I teased.

“Perfect,” he replied. “I’ll accept your ass as an engagement present.”

“Wait, what?” I stammered, stumbling forward slightly as he released me and held out an arm to the driver for the bags.

“Come on inside! You’re going to love this place!”

“Hey, hold on!” I objected, commanding my legs to obey as he sprinted up the steps of a plain-looking, flat-faced rowhouse. My mind whirled. What the hell did he just say?

Declan flung the door open from the inside and grinned at us both. “Hey there, early birds,” he called. “Coffee’s on!”

“We just had some, thanks,” Jackson replied curtly.

“Well… More would be great,” I added as I walked in the front hallway, watching them stare at each other from half a pace away. There seemed to be a silent conversation bouncing back and forth between their identically squinted eyes and knotted jaw muscles.

Then they broke apart, both turning to me suddenly as though nothing had just happened. I tried to control a reflexive flinch.

“You still shaky from the flight?” Declan asked.

“No… I’m fine,” I replied uncertainly, trying to assess the situation further. But whatever had passed between them had evaporated like smoke. There was no trace of it.

“Then let me show you around!” he grinned. “You gotta get on the road,” he added to Jackson.

Jackson instantly stiffened. “I’m aware,” he said. His eyes flashed again as he stared Declan down. Then he came over to me, kissing my forehead while his hand slipped behind me and pulsed suggestively between my ass cheeks. I drew back, staring at him with my eyes wide.

“OK,” I choked. “Have fun, then, I guess.”

“Oh yeah, a blast,” he growled as he angled toward the door and was on his way.

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. Jackson’s brazen hint was so… unlike him. And sizzling hot, I had to admit.

“What was that all about?” I asked pointedly as Declan held his hand toward the opening to the next room.

“Oh, Anneka needs Jack for some paperwork. You know how he hates to sign his name. A fear of pens, or something, I don’t know,” he said dismissively, then jerked his head toward the room. “Come on, babe. Tour’s leaving.”

“Yeah OK,” I said, brushing aside my nosiness. I wanted more information but of course, if Declan knew that I would never get it anyway. Better to just bite my lip and wait for the day to unfold.

Inhaling deeply, I looked around the foyer, finally seeing it. Like everything else in the Netherlands, it looked somehow different than any house I had ever been in. The air felt different too: moist but not musty. Thick, as though saturated with plaster dust.

“This is gorgeous,” I said softly, walking toward the room Declan indicated. “This is… whoa.”

“Right?” he said, an eager sort of pride in his voice.

I walked into the long, high-ceilinged room with my mouth hanging open. Floorboards over a foot wide creaked beneath my feet and I gawked openly at the enormous chandelier over my head.