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His hand slides higher, his fingers grazing over her sex. “How about here?” he asks, his voice deeper now.
“Only me,” she says softly, looking at him in anticipation.
I move back to give him some space and lie beside her, my own fingers trailing up and down the inside of her wrist.
“Hmm…show me.”
She startles. “What?”
“Touch yourself for me, for us. Show us what you like.”
Her eyes move from Oz to me and back again as she swallows. I expect her to tell him to fuck off, but instead, she slides her hand under her shirt.
“Tsk, tsk. It’s no fun if we can’t see.” He glides his hands up her body, dragging the T-shirt until it sits just under her breasts.
I take in the plain white cotton panties as Salem dips her hand beneath the waistband and wonder how something can be so fucking innocent and sexy at the same time.
“You wet, little one?” I whisper in her ear, smiling when I feel her shudder against me.
Instead of answering, she reaches for my hand and drags it to the waistband of her underwear before guiding me down to her pussy. Her very wet pussy.
“Fuck,” I growl as I press a finger just inside her. “She’s fucking soaked.”
Oz reaches up and grabs the edge of her panties and drags them down her hips, exposing my hand covering hers as we stroke her slick pussy together.
“Damn, you weren’t kidding,” Oz whistles appreciatively. “Now spread those legs for me, pretty girl. I don’t want to miss a thing.”
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Salem
Ican’t believe I’m doing this. It’s like I’m having an out-of-body experience. This isn’t me; I don’t do things like this, but I’ve seen the looks Oz and Zig have been throwing at each other, and they let me know just how dire our situation is. They might be saying all the right things, but I’ve learned to read between the lines.
If we can’t find water or it doesn’t rain soon, we’re going to die here. And what do I have to show for the life I’ve lived? Maybe it’s not the right time and place, and hell, maybe they aren’t the right men, but for once, I’m going to make a choice based on what I feel instead of what I think. I’m so fucking tired of telling myself tomorrow will be easier, that tomorrow I can find something better, that I can be something more than the ghost I’ve allowed myself to become. Right now, I’m all out of tomorrows. All I have is here and now, and what I want is to feel alive while I still am.
“Can I taste you?” Oz looks down at me like a leashed dog reaching for a steak.
Thanking God for the pack of baby wipes I used to freshen myself up with before bed, I nod and watch enraptured as his leash snaps.
Zig pulls our hands free from my pussy barely a moment before Oz is between my thighs, his hands under my ass, lifting me to his lips.
“Fucking gorgeous. Pink and wet, just for us.” He swipes his tongue over me, making me gasp at the sensation. He lashes my clit, making me cry out.
Zig’s hand slides across my jaw, turning my face toward his. And then his lips are on mine, his mouth swallowing down my moans and whimpers like sipping the finest wine. His hand slides under my T-shirt, cupping my breast as he thumbs my erect nipple. I’m on sensory overload, which is both thrilling and utterly terrifying.
“Jesus, forget water. I’ve found something better,” Oz growls.
Zig pulls away, both of us breathing heavily as we look down at Oz, who grins wickedly at us both.
“What? Too soon? Here, tell me I’m wrong.”
I’m not sure what he means until his fingers slip into my pussy. I gasp, feeling him touch me there. He pulls them free and offers them to me before I can do anything else. I open my mouth and let him slide his fingers inside, tasting myself as I suck them.
He curses and pulls them free, and then Zig’s mouth is back on mine, tasting me. He moans hungrily as Oz continues his ministrations. This time, Oz uses his mouth and fingers, stroking and teasing until I’m a writhing mess of pleasure.
Zig breaks the kiss and looks down to watch Oz, who slides a third finger inside me, stretching me but never going in deep enough to satisfy the ache inside me.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” Oz warns.
