She trembled to slide her hand over Martin’s and stroke that thick hardness with him. But he moved his touch, and in a blink, he closed his fingers around her neck.
“Take off your clothes.” His green eyes swirled with intensity. “I won’t tell you again.”
The only aphrodisiac she needed was the command in his voice. Hearing his salacious order and knowing he expected her to obey, she didn’t realize until now how much she wanted to be dominated by a man she trusted.
Not just any man.
These two men.
Martin wasn’t just telling her what he wanted. He was telling her what she wanted because somehow, he knew better than she did what that was.
His hand gave her throat a warning squeeze and slid away.
Lying on her back between them, she toed off her sneakers. As they thumped to the floor, excitement charged the air.
Martin pushed himself into a sitting position and rested back against the wall. His eyes hooded as they honed in on the wetness between her legs. Wet from the shower. Mostly.
She released the fly on her jeans as her other deeper wetness turned into an inferno, throbbing to be extinguished.
Sadly, there would be no sex with them tonight. Not without birth control. It was a frustrating thought, but she wouldn’t let it kill her mood.
The denim was the dampest around her butt, making it awkward to slide the material down her legs. Ricky helped her pull it off. Then he tackled her shirt, ripping it over her head before she could stop him. Not that she would have.
“Goddamn.” He pried her thighs apart and knelt between them. “Be still. Just let me digest this for a second.”
A voracious tremor rippled through her, and her rabbit heart pattered toward certain death.
She peeked over at Martin to see hungry green eyes studying her from beneath golden lashes. He tipped his head in admiration, angling for a view of the fabric between her legs.
A whoosh pulled through her stomach as his searing gaze drifted along her inner thighs. His expression was as predatory as his posture. Casual and confident, patient and threatening, he reminded her of a lazy lion, watching his meal, waiting for it to come a little closer before he played with it.
She ripped her eyes away as a finger traced the tattered strap of her bra.
Ricky followed the edge where the broken lace met the upper curve of her breast.
“This is what I put on…” A stinging memory clogged her voice. “The morning Vera called me. The last time I talked to her. I threw on some clothes and raced out the door. I had no idea the mismatched bra and undies I absently chose would be the only ones I would wear for the next five years.”
His brow pulled down over the shadows collecting in his stricken eyes. He gently caressed the off-white bra cups, carefully touching the unraveling holes along the underside.
Lowering his hand, he glided the backs of his fingers down the faded purple triangle that covered her pubic bone.
She closed her eyes, savoring the sensation of his expert touch. “I had this one set that was burgundy satin with lace trim. The flirty panties were low cut, lots of cheek peek with a cage-back. You know, with the crisscross lattice that shows off the top half of the butt crack?”
“No. Jesus.” He groaned. “I have no idea what that is, but it sounds sexy as fuck.”
“Yeah. It was.” Regret pinched her chest. “I wish I would’ve thrown on that set before I rushed out the door. Now it’s gone, along with everything else in my life.”
“I’m here.” He lowered onto her, chest to chest, and braced his weight on his arms. “Martin’s here, and we’re going to make you very happy that we are.”
“Martin? Are you sure?” She peeked around Ricky to lift a brow at the quiet, watchful man in question. “He’s selfish with his body. He lets us look, but no one’s allowed to touch.”
“I’ll work on him, but right now, I’m going to work on you.”
He kissed her long and deep, sending languorous curls of fire through her veins. The warm glide of his tongue ignited her pulse. The hard press of his muscles melted her limbs, and the heady buzz of his presence made her want. Oh, God, how she wanted him.
He released her mouth to trail a scorching path of kisses down her neck. His hands slipped beneath her and deftly removed her bra. As he bent over her breasts, his pink tongue slid between his lips. She wanted it between her legs, and the thought made her hot and restless.
He licked her nipples, and she struggled to remain still. He nibbled and bit, torturing her, making her gasp. She tried to squirm away, but not really.
She needed him. Needed every atom in his body. She wanted to fuse with him at a molecular level so that nothing or no one could tear them apart.