Sinful Ella (Seven Ways to Sin 6) - Page 28

I glanced around. The other patrons of the establishment seemed far too caught up in each other to pay the three of us any mind, but I did like the idea of exploring how far I was willing to go with these two men. There was no denying that watching Chris suck Lester off had turned me on. Emboldened, I took Saul and Darren’s hands. “I would like that,” I said. “Lead the way.”

As soon as Saul closed the door behind us, he advanced towards me, eyes shining. “Just say the word, and I’ll stop,” he said, his arm wrapping around my waist to pull me against him.

I bit my lip, my hands coming up to rest lightly against his chest. I could feel Darren’s eyes on us. “I’m okay,” I said, and that was all the invitation Saul needed. He claimed my mouth with his, his hands sliding down to cup my ass, pulling me tight against him so I could feel his hard cock against my body. I felt an answering thrill of anticipation in my pussy.

As we kissed, I felt Darren approach me from behind. Saul’s hands wandered over my body, eventually coming to rest against my tits. I almost cried out as his thumbs brushed over the tight points of my nipples. Darren’s breath fluttered against my neck, and then he was kissing me there, and I gasped my pleasure into Saul’s mouth. Darren’s body pressed against my back, and I was caught between the two men, the hard evidence of their arousal against my body.

The door opened, and I broke away from Saul’s kiss with a little cry of surprise. To my relief, it was only Lester and Chris, knowing smiles on their faces.

“We saw the three of you head in here together,” Lester said. “We thought we might join the party.”

“As long as Ella says it’s okay,” Saul said, his gaze fixed on mine. After a brief hesitation, I nodded.

Lester and Chris stepped further into the room, followed by Howie and Jason. Jason approached me, smiling shyly. “I’ve wanted to do this all night,” he said, pulling me close for a kiss.

I couldn’t believe this was happening, that I was in a room with six men, letting them kiss me, touch me. Eventually, we ended up in a tangle on the couch, and I lost track of whose lips were touching mine, which hands belonged to whom.

When Howie’s hand slipped up my dress, inching toward my dripping pussy, I froze. Howie pulled back. “No?” he asked.

“Ella is a virgin,” Saul explained quietly. “Of course, I’ve told her none of us will go farther than she wants to tonight.”

“Of course not,” Howie said, dropping a reassuring kiss on my lips.

I lost track of how much time we spent like this, kissing, touching. Sometimes, we would just talk. They asked about my hometown, my church, my family. These were far from the intimidating, pushy city men my father had warned me about. They were warm, attentive, easy to talk to.

I revelled in their attention, responding to each of their touches in different ways. I was beginning to understand that sex was perhaps not as black and white as I had been raised to believe. They never touched me anywhere my clothes covered, but my body thrilled with each of their caresses, so different from each other’s.

I felt drawn to each man in a different way the more we talked. When I told them that my mother had died when I was young, leaving my dad to raise me on his own, Lester and I compared experiences of losing a parent unexpectedly.

“It never really leaves you, does it?” he asked, his dark eyes lost in memory.

I shook my head. “I still miss her all the time,” I agreed.

Lester nodded. “I was so angry when my dad died, I started acting out, getting into trouble. I probably would have gone down a much darker path if my mom hadn’t encouraged me to put it all into my music.” He smiled a little at the memory. “Banging out my anger on my drumset was the only way I could feel peace for a long time.”

“That’s how I felt about the church choir,” I said quietly. “It was the only time everything in my head just . . . quieted down. For a little while, anyway.”

Lester squeezed my hand. He understood.

I connected with all of them, in different ways. When I told them about Susanna and Liz, how they treated me, how I always felt like I’d been left out of a joke when I was around them, Chris nodded sympathetically. “I used to get bullied in school,” he said.

“Really?” My eyes lingered on his bulging arms. “You?” Chris laughed.

“I was a weedy little nerd in high school,” he said. “Not to mention a pianist. I used to get beat up almost every day.”

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