Is he going to spank me? I don’t know if I’d like that, but nothing can surprise me about any of this. I’m so far out of my comfort zone.
Instead, his thumbs stroke down either side of the seam of my ass so slowly that I have to wriggle.
“Still,” he says, as they stroke back up, this time a little deeper. Holding back my reactions is like torture, but I do it because one word from Greg and I want to obey. Then his thumbs part me, and I have to close my eyes from the shame.
And when his tongue touches my taint, I can’t breathe. I told him everywhere, so this is where he’s gone – the naughtiest, most forbidden part of me. Greg is a man of extremes.
The part of me, the buttoned-up part that thinks I have to stay my daddy’s good girl for the rest of my life, dies a little inside. The other part of me, the one that wants to be explored, wants to be owned, wants to be claimed and possessed and wrecked, wants to beg him to give me everything.
But Greg is in charge, and when his tongue circles my taint and I whimper, I can feel the smile creeping over his face. I can tell that he loves not only the act of sex but the process of breaking me down into pieces whose shape I don’t recognize. My hips push back of their own accord, and my voice whispers, “Please.” I’m so empty, and I want this man to fill me. I want him to break off the parts of me that have wrapped around my hurt and leave me open, heart pounding, mind splintered, everything yearning and desperate and ready to live again.
And he can.
I know he can.
Maybe better than anyone else.
Maybe that’s why Tyler chose him. Maybe it’s because he has the utmost confidence in a man who looks like he’s spent his life pulverizing the rules.
Greg’s tongue drifts lower, licking into my entrance and then back up, circling, circling, circling, never stopping even when I’m trembling so much it must be hard for him to focus. Even when I jerk away because it feels too good, and he has to grip his hands into the soft flesh of my hips and hold me where he wants me. Even when I’m making sounds that don’t sound human, his tongue keeps its unholy rhythm, and a realization hits me.
He’s going to make me come without even touching my clit. Without putting a single finger or his cock inside me. Just the sheer forbidden feelings and his manhandling are enough to tip me over the edge.
It’s like being set free.
My legs snap closed, and everything draws up and inward, my pussy and ass fluttering over and over and over and over until I actually start to worry it might never stop. Has he broken me so that I’ll remain in a state of perpetual orgasm for the rest of my life?
My mind is as black as the ink that covers him until I hear him chuckle, and I’m suddenly back in the room.
14
ARDEN
“I need to go and see a man about a dog,” I tell my brother. He’s under a car, so really, I’m only speaking to his feet and bent legs.
“What kind of dog?” Able asks.
“It’s a phrase,” I say. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’ll see you later.”
I’m out the door before anyone can question me, jumping in the truck that we all took to work this morning. An easy way to make sure none of them can easily follow me.
I mean, there’s no reason they should.
We often leave the repair shop in the middle of the day to run errands or get lunch.
My belly rumbles, but it’s not lunch I’m after.
Tyler said that Greg is bonding with Sandy, and I want to see what it means for myself.
Yes, I’m a nosy fucker, and yes, Tyler’s plan to let us share his girl has my dick harder than the wrench on the floor of this truck.
The fact that Greg got a heads-up has me antsy. I love that dude like my blood brothers, but he’s seen and done things that could blacken a wedding dress at forty paces. His hands on sweet, angelic Sandy…well, what I’m saying is I’m worried that if he goes first, she’ll change her mind.
I feel stupid for even doing this. If Greg has tried to make a move, he probably has a Sandy-sized handprint on his cheek. She’d wither him with a hazel-eyed stare and a scowl twisting her pretty lips. I’ll probably arrive at the house to find him downstairs and her upstairs.
I change the radio station from Andrew’s favorite to something with a whole lot more bass. The rhythm of the guitar and the beat of the drum is loud enough to vibrate through my jittery mind. My brain isn’t like my brothers’. Even when I’m exhausted, it never seems to rest.