It didn’t stop her from responding, from moaning with the sensuality racing through her.
“It’s not supposed to be the same,” he whispered as Jethro leaned over her, his fingers touching her jaw, turning her face to him. “It’s supposed to be hotter, more intense. It’s supposed to make you weak with need, Keiley. It’s supposed to make you wet and wild. That’s what I want to see. That’s what I need to see.”
The truth of it was in his gaze, in his voice so filled with hunger. Her chest clenched with a sudden shaft of pain. What had happened in her husband’s past to have caused this? Surely something darker and more vicious than he had so far told her.
She stared up at Jethro helplessly then.
“Shh,” he whispered, as though he could see into her, could see the sudden fear that grew inside her for her husband. “There’s no pain here. Only pleasure.”
Only pleasure? A pleasure derived from the need to escape the pain?
Her hands lifted, touched his face, her fingertips skimming over his high cheekbones, the dark brow, then into his overly long hair.
Hair nearly as black as Mac’s, but with dark brown shades threading through it. It wasn’t the silky softness of her husbands, it was coarser, though not as thick.
She watched as his expression tightened with her touch, an almost desperate light filling his gaze before he swiftly closed his eyes for a long second.
When they reopened, it was gone, but the blazing hunger remained. In his gaze and in his kiss.
The kiss caught her off guard. It was like Mac used to kiss her. Without apology. Without asking. Without the natural gentleness that came with three years of marriage. It was the kiss of a man who made no apologies for his desires and no excuses.
“You like that, don’t you, Kei?” Mac whispered. “I see how he’s kissing you. You like having your lips taken.”
She couldn’t deny it. She couldn’t affirm it. She was too busy fighting the response that threatened to swamp her.
“Don’t fight it, sweetheart.” Mac’s voice was a low, rough growl of rising hunger. “Let me see your pleasure. Your need. Give in to it.”
She whimpered as Jethro nipped at her lips, stroked them with his tongue, and pushed his fingers into her hair to hold her head in place. He was restraining her movements, but not her response. Where it welled from, she wasn’t certain. From some dark inner part of her soul that reveled in the extremity of taking another man as her husband egged her on. In letting her own sensuality free, letting it rule rather than being concerned with how he might look upon her for being ruled by it.
Her arms wrapped around Jethro’s shoulders, her fingers playing with his longer hair, pulling at it, tugging his lips closer as her tongue touched his.
As though she had struck a match to gasoline, Jethro’s response exploded over her. His muscles tightened and flexed, his c**k jerked against her hip, and one long leg tangled with hers.
Suddenly the flaming need was whipping around her, through her, over her. Her lips parted further, taking his kiss and returning it, drawing it into her before giving it back.
Lips and tongues battled in a dance of erotic fervor. Hands stroked sensitive flesh. His were broader, cupping her br**sts, tweaking her ni**les, hers smaller, stroking up his back, tangling in his hair, feeling the muscles shifting in his shoulders.
Her nails scraped over his flesh, and he groaned in response. His lips tore from hers, stringing heated kisses down her neck as she arched and silently pleaded for more.
She forced her eyes open as Jethro’s lips moved to her br**sts, only to whimper in rising heated desire. Mac still stood by the bed, slowly stroking his cock, his gaze dark, his expression clouded with pleasure and approval. With a surfeit of love as his gaze met hers, and wicked, carnal knowledge, his eyes dropped to where Jethro’s tongue was slowly curling around her nipple, sending a whiplash of na**d fire to flay her nerve endings.
God help her, just as he wanted, she was coming undone.
Mac watched as Keiley’s eyes began to glaze over, then dropped to where Jethro ministered to her ni**les with seductive abandon.
Broad male hands cupped her br**sts, lifting first one, then the other to the wicked lash of his tongue, then to his suckling mouth. Her ni**les darkened, becoming cherry in color rather than the innocent pink of pre-arousal.
The delicate tip disappeared into Jethro’s mouth as his cheeks began to draw deeply. Mac knew what pleased his wife, just as he knew from watching his friend repeatedly how he tormented tender, sensitive ni**les.
His tongue was lashing at it. Keiley jerked with each flick of a tongue against her highly sensitive ni**les. She was trembling now, shuddering, her nails creating indents in the hard muscles of Jethro’s naked, tense shoulders.
Moans slipped from her lips as Jethro began to slip down her torso. He strung kisses along her perspiration-slick flesh. Tender skin that shimmered with life and moisture. His tongue licked over the lightly salty essence of her, causing her to shudder as her hands pushed him lower.
Mac grimaced with rising hunger, his hand tightening on the shaft of his c**k at the sight of Keiley pushing Jethro to the soft folds between her thighs.
She loved having her pu**y licked. She kept the soft curls that shielded it trimmed to the perfect length so they were still soft, yet didn’t impair the pleasure Mac found in going down on her.
Jethro would appreciate that, though Mac knew that eventually he would press her to have the plump little mound waxed. Something Mac had put off, waiting, he knew, for Jethro’s arrival.