ever has. “I need to—”
“It’s okay, baby girl. You can come for me,” Ford whispers in my ear.
As if he could stop me. My back arches, my head falling on the thick, sinewy muscles of his shoulders. The last image in my mind before I explode under Ford’s fingers is the way Jay’s hand sensually grips his cock, a promise glinting back at me in his sexy, hooded eyes.
I bite down, gripping Ford’s hips behind me as he rubs harder, dipping between my folds to wet his fingertips and roll my swollen bud even faster. When he gently bites my neck, I come undone. My body melts, shuddering as white lights pulse behind my closed lids, and I sink deeper into my first orgasm.
I roll in his arms, searching for the mouth I’ve memorized and constantly long for. “Ford,” I say huskily, biting his lip and drawing it in. He cups my ass and lifts me to his lips, making me yelp. He wastes no time claiming my mouth with his heated, passionate kiss.
Our tongues meet—his is sensual and strong. He always finds a way to take the lead in the bedroom, and I don’t mind one bit. My body is still humming, revved and ready to go when I feel Jay behind me, swinging my long blond hair over my shoulder so he can find his favorite kissing spot just behind my ear. I giggle as his lips brush the skin softly, sending goose bumps over my body.
Where Ford is rough and sexy, Jay is smooth and sensual—both gods over my body, just in different ways. Jay knows how to take his time and build my arousal to a crescendo, while Ford demands—pushing me to new limits and heights.
“My turn,” Jay says, taking my hand.
Ford pulls back, nipping at my lip one last time. Jay wastes no time finding my mouth, branding me with his own sexy charm. His hands slide up my neck, and my body shivers with anticipation. If Ford is a master with his fingers, Jay rivals that skill with his tongue. His hands possessively cup my face, his dark eyes taking me in before lowering his mouth for a kiss.
It’s deep and sensual, as if he can’t get enough of me and never wants it to end.
I wrap my arms around his waist, finding his lean hips and then sliding my hands over his sculpted ass.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for you, Firefly.”
“I’m worth the wait, right?” I tease.
“You’re worth everything.” He playfully pushes me back onto the bed, and I can’t help but giggle. It dies on my lips though, when I see the heated longing in his eyes.
“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he says, running his hand up my thigh.
I move higher on the bed at his urging, his eyes zeroing in on the crevice between my legs. “I want to taste you, Fallon.”
Jay gently kisses the firefly tattoo on my hipbone, as he always does. Then he trails his mouth along my stomach and down the inside of my parted legs, his fingers squeezing the soft skin of my upper thighs. I moan, the anticipation of that first flick of his tongue nearly undoing me.
I open my eyes, which is a mistake. Ford is watching us hungrily, desire burning in his eyes and making them richer, darker—an amber shade of sexual arousal that comes out to play whenever the three of us are together. His hand lowers to his abdomen. I can’t take my eyes off him as he traverses his happy trail and finds his thick, swollen shaft.
That’s when Jay’s soft, warm tongue finds my center. Electricity shoots through me, and my hands instinctively find his thick, long hair. Gripping the tresses, I’m unable to appreciate how soft each strand feels. All my senses are diverted to one place—the apex where Jay’s mouth is slowly, sensually kissing me. Worshiping me.
His tongue languidly traces along my opening before flicking gently when he gets to the top. My body spasms as he hits my clitoris just right, my body happily surrendering with each lash of his tongue. He continues to tease, taste, stroke—but my body needs more. Jay knows it too. He can read my body like it’s his full-time job. His mouth covers my sensitive bud now, his tongue worshipping it until my thighs shake.
He moans appreciatively, then slides his tongue back along my wet center again.
“More,” I gasp.
“I know, Firefly. I know,” he breathes. “Patience.”
His fingers trail my opening, replacing his tongue.