Wanted Angel - Sadie Moss Page 0,63

nerve-ending.

My heavy eyelids open again as they lift me up, trapping me between them as they continue to kiss and caress me. My legs automatically wrap around Beck’s waist as my head falls to Ryland’s shoulder. The man behind me gives a satisfied little growl, nipping my earlobe as his hand travels over my stomach, delving beneath the waistband of my pants.

From in front of me, Beckett slides my shirt up and cups my breasts, brushing his thumbs over the sensitive nipples through the fabric of my bra.

They’re taking me apart, piece by piece.

And it feels freaking amazing.

Ryland’s fingers slide lower, slipping through my wet folds and making my legs tighten convulsively around Beck’s waist.

“Oh, fuck!”

I whimper, my body thrashing in their hold. Ryland’s free hand is supporting me, and I don’t even worry for a second about them dropping me, even as I writhe with pleasure.

They don’t stop touching me, teasing my nipples and clit as pleasure skyrockets inside me. There’s something so deliberate about their movements, and it turns me on in a way I can’t even quite explain.

When I’m breathless and gasping, grinding against Ryland’s hand and arching my back toward Beckett’s touch, the two men share a look. Some silent communication passes between them, and the next thing I know, we’re moving toward the bed.

Beck slowly unwinds my legs from around his waist and they lay me down on the mattress, crawling up beside me. I’m already needy and desperate, so worked up that I’m hoping they’ll rip my clothes off and give me what I need so badly.

But of course, they don’t.

These men do things their way. Always. And they don’t rush anything.

Instead of jumping right to the main event, they keep touching me and caressing me, kissing every inch of my skin as they undress me and then themselves.

My lips are swollen and tingling, my skin covered in a light sheen of sweat, and my clit throbs from hovering so close to the edge of an orgasm but never quite going over. I feel a little delirious, and my only consolation is that I can hear Beck and Ryland breathing harder too. Their skin is hot, and their cocks are hard as steel, brushing against my thighs as they work me up into a mindless state of pleasure between them.

Driving me crazy is driving them crazy too, and the control that infuses everything they do is slipping.

Good.

I want it to slip. I want to feel what it’s like when these two powerful men let go.

A little shiver of fear passes through me at the thought. But just like Ford, I know they’d never hurt me. Even before I knew if I could fully trust them, I believed that.

I’m on my back on the large bed with Ryland on my left side and Beckett on my right. When Ryland lets out a low groan of pleasure, I can’t stop myself anymore. I press up off the mattress and climb on top of him, straddling him and resting my hands on his chest.

His eyes flare wide for a moment with surprise, and then I see pride and heated satisfaction in his dark irises. He likes that I made a move, that I’m not afraid to take what I want. As commanding as he is, I wonder if he secretly likes being challenged. After all, what kind of pride is there to be had in winning when there’s no challenge?

The thick hardness of his cock is trapped between us, and when I shift my hips a little, my slick core glides against his length. My clit practically sings with pleasure, and I rock against him again, biting my lip as I push myself closer to the precipice.

“You’re beautiful like this, angel,” he groans, his fingers digging into my hips. He follows my movements for a moment before taking over, using his hold on me to work me against his cock. “Come. Just like this. I want to see you come.”

Part of me doesn’t want to yet. Part of me wants to wait until he’s inside me; I want to feel how he stretches me and claims my body as I squeeze around him. But the look in his eyes promises plenty more orgasms after this one, so I stop fighting against the pleasure that’s rising inside me, letting myself get pulled along by the wave as it crests.

My fingers clench, nails digging into Ryland’s dark skin as I let out a low cry. Maybe it’s because it