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7
Drake nearly did a doubletake at Paige’s sexy come-on. That was new. She’d had her moments of course, and the night they’d had together had definitely been explosive. But she still seemed unsure in the sexual realm more often than not.
Not right now, that was for damn sure.
She was sitting completely nude, her pale skin alabaster in the moonlight, her full breasts proudly tipped upward, her slit a shadow between creamy thighs. She had the tiniest smattering of hair there, just a tease. So much of the woman was a tease, from her wild red hair to her daring blue eyes to her robust curves.
He wanted to see her own all her assets. To work them, not hide them away. And if they could help her with that even a small amount, he’d be thrilled.
Colt’s smile spread, slow and sure. “Oh, darlin’. You can’t even imagine.”
“No?” Paige cocked her head. “Then show me.”
Drake swallowed hard as Colt moved between her thighs and pushed her backward with one hand between her breasts. He shifted so Paige could lay her head in his lap, situating her so his stiffening cock wasn’t directly under her neck. It wouldn’t be long before he’d have to adjust her again, because he was rapidly running out of room in his shorts.
Fuck, watching them together was sexy.
Colt ran his hands up the outsides of her legs as he drew them upward, hooking one over each shoulder. He bent his head, aiming right for his target without hesitation. There was no building up the anticipation. He dove right in and went to town, lapping at her loudly enough that Drake caught snatches of the sound above the burbling stream. Paige writhed in his lap, unable to stay still. That was one of the things he loved best about her. She might take a bit to lose her inhibitions, but he’d already seen that once she was in, she was all in.
Colt spread her thighs wider and one of his hands disappeared between them. He drew it back up to his mouth, wetting two fingers before plunging them back inside her. She arched up, and Drake clamped an arm on her breasts to hold her still. To force her to accept every bit of what they intended to give her.
“Uh-uh. You’re not escaping that easily.” Drake stroked her hair with his free hand. “Not until we’re finished with you.”
“Like five or six hours from now,” Colt added, pausing between licks. He turned his head and nipped the inside of her thigh and she quaked in Drake’s hold as if she was about to fall apart.
“Five or six? How about eight or nine?” Drake slid his arm under her breasts, plumping them up so he could lean forward and twirl his tongue around one of her taut nipples.
She gasped. “I need…I need…”
“This, maybe?” Colt closed his mouth over her, doing something that made her heels beat against the blanket. “Or this?”
He drew his fingers back and plunged them deep again, causing her hips to raise straight off the ground. His wrist twisted, the heavy watch he wore catching the moonlight. His thumb skimmed over her clit and she lost the fight, letting out a long, thin cry.
“That’s it, baby.” Drake bit her nipple. “Scream for us.”
She grabbed a fistful of his hair, holding him to her breast while she rode out her climax, body shuddering, skin already shimmering with sweat. Her pants were the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, other than Colt’s growl of approval as he continued to taste every bit of what she’d given him.
“You’re a dirty girl, aren’t you? You just needed help coming out of your shell.” Colt licked his way up her belly, crawling up over her until he was fastening his lips to the side of her breast. His face was so close to Drake’s hand, so close. He wanted to feel those wet, talented lips touch him too, but he knew it wouldn’t—couldn’t—happen. So he contented himself with watching Colt travel upward to take Paige’s mouth, kissing her roughly enough that when he moved back, some of Paige’s wetness had transferred from his chin to hers.
Drake leaned down and took a taste himself, groaning at the salty-sweet flavor. He slipped his tongue over hers, barely aware of nudging her head to the edge of his lap so he had room to undo his pants. His erection hurt like a bitch.
Paige’s eyes lit as if she hadn’t just had an orgasm. “Can I?” she asked eagerly.
“All yours, sweetheart.”
She took over the task, dragging down his zipper and fumbling him out of the narrow confines of his boxers. She licked her lips and took him inside her with a quick suck that nearly blew his head off. Her hand pumped in time with her erotic kisses.
“Baby, you want this show over fast, don’t you?” He gathered her hair in a loose ponytail and drew her head up toward the tip, encouraging her without words to focus her attention right there. She took his nonverbal cue like a champ, concentrating the skim of her teeth and her suction on that nerve-rich area. Her fingers curled around him, sliding in the wetness her mouth had made, slicking up and down while she gave him the blowjob of his life.
“Shit.” On her other side, Colt rolled back to undo his jeans. He tugged out his cock and gave it a long stroke, making Drake close his eyes as pressure built in his sac. Watching Colt jack off was a surefire way to explode in Paige’s throat, though she was doing a damn fine job of making that happen all on her own.
Sweet fucking hell.
But he couldn’t resist taking another peek at Colt. Those long, broad fingers tightening around his thick length, his thumb smoothing over the tip to catch the drops of pre-cum. His other hand reached beneath to cup his balls. His head tipping back, a shock of dark hair falling across his forehead as he thrust into his punishing grip.
Damn, Drake was going to come. Hard.
He fisted Paige’s hair, holding her still while he drove upward, not stopping until he hit resistance in her throat. She made a choked sound, though not one of displeasure. Then she was somehow opening more for him, the hum she was making encouraging him to stroke into her again. Her fingers clamped around the base of his throbbing cock, holding him on that precipice while he watched Colt inch ever closer to his own drop.
