Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Three sets of eyes zip to my face. “But you can do it?” Gabe asks, low, urgently.
The universe seems to hold its breath. I’m poised on the edge of the unknown.
What am I thinking?
“One time,” I breathe. “One time, yes.”
The word “yes” is like a gun firing at the start of a race.
Banks uses his grip on my hair to turn my head to the right, just in time for Gabe’s mouth to swoop down and claim mine. It’s like unspoken choreography. Poetic. I don’t get a breath in before it’s happening, before Gabe is wrapping me in some kind of euphoric spell, hard, desperate lips working mine over like he hasn’t experienced anything pleasure-related in a long time. Maybe he hasn’t. Isn’t that what he implied earlier?
I’m caught up in the give and take, the stroke for stroke rhythm of his tongue in my mouth, the bristle of his beard on my chin and cheeks, when Banks begins unfastening my apron, tugging down the top half so he can palm my breasts. As soon as Gabe releases me to come up for air, Banks arrows toward my neck, razing me with his teeth from shoulder to the patch behind my ear. It’s so raw and sensitizing that I cry out, reaching out, desperate for purchase. One of them. All of them. I don’t know. All I know is I get my fists wrapped in Banks’s shirt and Tobias’s hair and they love it. They groan over being touched by me.
Tobias moves in to claim the other side of my neck, licking me in a bold claim, before his lips press in tight to my ear. “Been dreaming of getting my fingers up that skirt since last night. Are you going to set me loose on it, love?”
I think we all know the it he’s referring to. It knows. It clenches in response.
The next words out of my mouth need to be no. Later. Stop.
But while I was perusing—okay, devouring—his Wikipedia page earlier, I returned to the moment on the tram a hundred times. The moment when he said he was going to tend to me.
So perhaps quite unwisely, I eek out the word, “Yes.”
Tobias smiles against my ear.
All three men suspend in animation, watching Tobias’s fingertips trail slowly up my knee, my inner thigh, disappearing beneath my skirt. I’m not a lip biter, but there is no choice but to bite down hard or scream at him to go faster. He knows that’s what I want, because he’s chuckling against my ear. At least until his fingers reach the cotton of my panties and he releases a slow hiss, two very knowledgeable fingers pressing lengthways into my slit through the thin material, gently sawing back and forth, seizing the air in my lungs.
“What does she feel like?” Gabe asks in a hoarse voice, stroking a hand down the front of his jeans. “I need to know.”
“Tell us,” Banks demands, still using his lips and teeth on my neck, his fingers unfastening the buttons of my shirt one by one.
“Firm and wet.” His breath is hot against my ear. “Fucking perfect.”
That description—which, I’ll admit, has a nice ring to it—visibly brings Gabe to the edge, his weathered face contorting in pain. He steps around Banks who is groaning into my neck, his mouth moving feverishly, arousing me more with every targeted lick and nip of my sensitive skin. And suddenly Gabe’s lips are moving over mine, his big, heaving chest the final thing I see before my eyes slip closed and I’m nothing but a receptor for sensation. My mouth belongs to Gabe, my aching flesh to Tobias and for some reason, Banks is bliss and reassurance all at once. His face close to mine makes me feel secure, like I can tackle this extreme event that is happening—and his hands. They are inside my shirt now, strumming my nipples through my basic cotton bra and I’m carried away, I’m boneless and cared for and exultant.
There is a full minute of the worship they spoke about before it all spins out of control.
Tobias goes down on his knees in front of me, leans down and sinks his teeth into the inside of my knee, a sound of pure hunger kindling in his throat. Banks drags a hand down the small of my back, lower, where he kneads one side of my bottom, groaning roughly, before beginning to gather the back of my skirt in his hand.
“Do you want him to use his tongue on it, Elise?” Banks exhales shakily, his lower body crowding toward me slightly, letting me feel his substantial erection against my hip. “Your call. Whatever you want to do, I’ve got you.” He whispers the next part into my hair. “You can decide on me. I’ll take you home right now. Just us. Wet you down again and make you fucking scream.”