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Rhys would claim her first, his lovemaking romantic, building her orgasm slowly with soft kisses and sweet nothings whispered in her ear. They’d come together—and then Tony would take his place.
Unlike her sexy doctor, Tony would push her to her limits, with firm, strong hands, rough thrusts, and dirty talk. Her orgasm would hit her like a freight train, but Tony wouldn’t care. He’d demand another and then another. Rhys would return, adding his own fuel to passion, sucking on her nipples, stroking her clit as Tony fucked her into oblivion and beyond.
“Stay with us, always,” Tony murmured as she drifted to sleep in their arms.
Overheated, Jess jerked awake, her fingers on her clit, her pussy wet but unfulfilled. She instantly—foolishly—missed arms that had never been there to begin with.
She kicked off the thick duvet, then stood up, making her way to the bathroom, grateful she hadn’t woken Jasper.
God, what was she doing?
She shut the door behind her and turned on the light, looking at her flushed reflection in the mirror and forcing herself to accept the truth, to see what was really there.
She was a woman on her own, alone, with no one to depend on but herself.
And that was when she realized the danger of allowing herself to dream.
Because those beautiful fantasies drove in even deeper how terribly lonely and scared she really was.
