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“Brylee will go down on you,” I say, my voice raspy. Man, just how loud was I? “And you go down on her. Sixty-nine. How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” he says, looking at her, his smirk widening into a grin. “What do you say, kitten? I haven’t tasted you yet.”

“Neither have I,” she says in a hushed voice. “Tasted you, I mean. Or him.”

“There is time for that.”

Oh yeah, I think, gazing at them as they come together, Riddick moving in to kiss her. A whole weekend. And I love watching them as Riddick unclasps her bra and cups her breasts, massaging them, making her moan his name, as he bends to lick at a hardened nipple.

What I want to do is join them, maybe help him get Brylee ready. I remember her musky sweet taste, the way she parted under my tongue, under my fingers, the way she came undone, shaking and clenching. What I want to do is fuck her, bury my cock inside that hot pussy, breach her for the first time, give her an orgasm so deep anything else will pale in comparison after that.

Or fuck Riddick, hear his low groan as I move inside him, feel that powerful body shudder as he comes apart, dropping that prickly attitude and baring himself.

To me.

I want it so much I ache with it, and that’s a warning sign, right there. So I sit back, fighting the urge to rub my chest, convince my heart to settle down. That funky extra beat is persisting. Taking a break may be for the best, sit this one out.

For so many reasons.

The thing is… I’ve had the occasional one-night stand over the years, but never with two people, something right out of my fantasies. Not with these two people who get me hard just by being close to me. Not with two people that I keep thinking about, that I…

Whoa. Dangerous territory. Back away slowly, and keep your hands where I can see them.

There’s a reason I haven’t even had one-night stands in the past year.

I give in and press a hand to my chest.

Damn.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chocolate Cookies with Salty Drizzle

Brylee

Riddick is sucking on my nipples, and it feels so frigging good. The white-hot sparks of pleasure shooting straight to my pussy are maddening. Before this week, I never really knew what the fascination with breasts and nipples was. I never even touch them when I pleasure myself.

I remember Candy talking of nipple suckers at some point, and I can’t imagine they’d feel any better than Riddick’s mouth, his soft lips, hot tongue and rough scruff driving me crazy.

Going crazy with desire. As if watching Riddick suck Ryan’s cock wasn’t arousing enough. I’m so wet it’s embarrassing, and knowing where his mouth will be going next…

Instinctively I pull back when he goes for my panties. My very wet panties, my favorite pastel blue lace with the little hearts. Good charm panties, I call them.

Soaked through.

He has none of it, though. Ungluing his hot mouth from my nipple—which makes me really sad—he snags the thin elastic of my panties again, his gray eyes flashing.

His strong jaw is dark with stubble, the curve of his wide mouth wicked. He winks at me, and I can’t help but look down at his very hard, very big cock that’s bobbing against his stomach.

Pretty scary for a beginner like me, no matter how excited I am.

As if sensing my unease, he gathers me close and carefully lays me down on one of the huge cushions, then runs his hands over my arms. “Okay?”

I nod.

Then I glance at Ryan who’s kneeling beside him, slightly hunched over, a hand resting on a sculpted pec, his eyes half-closed. He looks like he’s thinking, or maybe praying, but then he catches my gaze and smiles.

He has such a beautiful smile when he’s caught off guard, like now. Wide and bright, his eyes gleaming like jade in the quivering light of the fire. Guileless. Clear.

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