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Desperately.
Irrevocably.
I continue to kiss Zane as I hear rather than see Beckett remove the rest of his clothes. A second later, his naked body is flush against my own as he tugs down my skirt and panties, leaving me only in my knee-high socks and my Mary Jane shoes.
“Holy fuck,” he rasps. “I want to taste you. Can I?”
Yes freaking please.
Instead of answering verbally—since my lips are otherwise preoccupied with Zane’s mouth—I open my legs to grant Beckett access.
“You’re so wet for me, darling,” Beckett murmurs, a mere second before I feel an indolent lap of his tongue across the length of my seam. Fuck.
Zane pulls his swollen lips away from mine with a hiss. “She’s so wet for us. Not just you. I’m the one giving her mouth orgasms.” Zane flashes the British man a smug, self-satisfied smile.
I twist slightly to find Beckett staring at us from where he lies on his stomach, his face between my thighs. From this angle, all I can see are the chiseled lines of his back and ass, and the sight sends my pulse skyrocketing. I’m practically gushing at this point, and I would be embarrassed by it if I didn’t know they are just as affected by what we’re doing as I am. I can feel how hard Zane is for me, how ready.
“Mouth orgasms?” Beckett scoffs. “That’s not a thing.”
“Isn’t it?” Zane gives Beckett a haughty look. “Mouths can totally orgasm.”
“That’s just saliva, dumb fuck.”
“Agree to disagree.”
“If you want to know what a true orgasm looks like…” Beckett smirks deviously before his fingers enter me, curling in a beckoning motion.
“Oh, fuck.” My hips arch instinctively just as Beckett latches on to my clit…and hums.
Zane begins to play with my oversensitive nipples, rolling them between his fingers, and that, combined with Beckett wreaking havoc on my clit, sends me spiraling over the edge. My climax rampages through me, leaving tremors in its wake.
Beckett lifts his head from between my thighs with a cocky smirk on his handsome face.
“That is what an orgasm is, friend,” he says smugly.
Zane mutters something noncommittally before once again guiding my face to his. This time, however, he doesn’t kiss me. He merely holds eye contact, searching my gaze attentively.
“I have an idea, princesa, but I’ll only do it if you’re comfortable.”
My pulse skitters as anticipation lances through me. “An idea?” My voice is embarrassingly weak and shaky from my last orgasm, so I clear my throat and try again. “What is it?”
Honest to god, Zane’s cheeks tint pink. “I want to fuck your mouth as Beckett fucks you from behind.”
Oh. My. God.
Seriously, oh my god.
My mouth parts on a startled exhale, and Zane misinterprets the look on my face for one of denial or disgust. “We don’t have to, of course! Forget I said anything. I just… I really fucking liked the feel of your lips around my dick.” The pink tinting his cheeks transitions into a vibrant red. “Just forget it. I?—”
“I want to,” I blurt before he can talk himself out of this. My heart races like a runaway horse in my chest. “If Beckett wants to, of course.”
I’ve done other things with Beckett, but I’ve never had sex with him. The only man I’ve slept with was Dominic back at his parents’ cabin—before it burned down. I don’t know if Beckett wants our first time to be like this, and I wouldn’t begrudge him if he refused.
“Yes. God, yes,” Beckett says quickly from behind me. “I’m so fucking hard, I could probably use my dick as a damn sword right about now.”
I giggle, even as Zane wrinkles his nose in disgust. “TMI, dude.”
“We’re both about to fuck the same girl at the same time,” Beckett deadpans. “There’s no such thing as TMI.”
