Wicked Bad (WIcked 3)(2)

The man on the bottom let out a chuckling groan. “Have I been distracting you, Jacob? Keeping you from finding the perfect woman? Her Highness would kill me, especially after all the—oh, yes, harder— trouble she went through to get you here.”

The larger man leaned forward, clasping Ric’s hand on the wall, shafting his lover with long hard strokes that had Harrison shaking. Her body reacted as though she were the one being touched. Taken. She squeezed her thighs together, feeling her hard nipples poke against the fabric of her dress.

“Shut up, Ric.”

“Mmm. I love it when you boss me around, babe. Especially when I know I can have you on your knees anytime I choose. Know how much you love it.”

The other man growled. “Who’s the one being fucked here?”

“You are. You’re the one who has to give the family an heir. The one who has to find a sweet, well connected girl who will probably burst into tears once she discovers what you’re really like. Your darker urges. How bad you can be.”

The railing pressed hard against her stomach, keeping her from falling over. This Ric, who she was having a hard time seeing clearly in the shadows, seemed to be taunting the man he called Jacob. And it was working.

“I’ll show you darker urges.” She heard a smack as the palm of Jacob’s hand connected with the tight ass tilting up as though begging for more. “Fuck, we don’t have time for what you’re begging for. She’ll be your match, too, you know. Why are you trying to piss me off?”

Harrison heard their words, loving the gravelly voice of the rough man arguing with his lover, but her gaze was riveted to the spot where their bodies were connected. She wished she could see more. See the larger man, Jacob’s, body.

His thoughts must have mirrored her own, because his shirt and dress pants disappeared into the air with a groaned phrase. By the holy witches, he was a masterpiece. All man. She couldn’t see his face, but his back rippled with restrained power, the cheeks of his ass flexed with every thrust…and he was marked. A tattoo covered half his back, an enraged griffin readying itself for battle. It looked familiar, but she wasn’t sure why. She couldn’t think. Could only want.

Her lace panties were soaked, and she ached. Felt empty. Needy. Her hands slid down her body and up beneath the short hem of her black dress. One pressed between her thighs, the other between the cheeks of her ass, imagining being filled there by the man currently riding his lover to ecstasy.

She’d been prepared, knew she would be expected to take two men when she found her matches. The idea had always been distasteful to her independent mind, but titillating to her body.

Trapped. Surrounded. Controlled the way she was by all the men in her life. And so she’d shied away from every opportunity to experiment with her over-willing peers. She’d never experienced the real thing. No more than fondling touches with brave boys at the dances she was allowed to go to, and her spells and daydreams. They hadn’t aroused her as utterly as these two had, and they hadn’t even touched her. What would it feel like if they did?

The men grunted, groaning as Jacob slid his other hand around his lover’s body, taking his, from what Harrison could see, enticingly thick erection into his hand with a sure, knowing grip.

Harrison felt her body tingling wildly as she rubbed her body in time to their rhythm. She shouldn’t be here. Should give them privacy. But she couldn’t tear herself away. She needed to come with them. Had to. They were all so close.

“I don’t want or need anyone else, babe. No ball and chain to tie us down, holding us to her with the promise of stronger magic and a sweet lay. Neither do you. Certainly not a Magian hag no one likes. God, yes. Hell, can you imagine if that seer your family hired was right? That our match was that snooty fucking Abbott bi—oh, fuck yeah!”

Harrison couldn’t hold back her climax as the men came below her. Her power exploded from her core, breaking through the cloaking spell, a blast of brilliant blue electricity lighting up the narrow staircase. For a moment she could feel everything. Beyond the hallway and into the club, into the private rooms and beyond. She was everywhere. In everything. Alive.

The wave turned inward, and she moaned. She’d never felt anything like this. No climax so powerful. Her eyes opened, and her moan changed to a gasp of shock. Her energy was bright all around her. It wasn’t fading. Proof of a match.

“What the hell?” The gruff voice brought her gaze back down over the rail. The men were shaken, their own magic glowing, twining with each other’s and reaching up for hers.

Eyes black as moonless night clashed with gray. A flicker of recognition. Of connection.