they had a child together. The thought turned his stomach. He resented their bond, whether or not it was fused in tragedy. Remembering them having sex made him sick with jealousy.

The direction of his thoughts was ludicrous in his trussed up position, face in the mattress, his rear plugged and clenching. Didn’t he have enough to worry about?

Van moved to sit on the edge of the mattress. “I think my girl’s going to put on a show for us.”

My girl. Jealousy burned anew, hot and painful. But she didn’t want Van. She hid in her room to escape him. The reminder cooled his blood but didn’t extinguish the nauseating pang.

She snapped her fingers and pointed to the rug by the mattress. He’d told her he trusted her intentions. Still did. He scooted backward on his knees, the plug both discomforting and oddly stimulating.

Standing before him and removing her panties, she rested her hands on his shoulders. “Your eyes stay on my pussy.”

CHAPTER 25

Josh had seen her bared sex countless times, but he’d never stared long enough to take in the details. Out of awkwardness. Out of respect. But the mastery in her command and the potency of his arousal raised his eyes from the floor.

Wrong or not, it was a picture that would be forever branded in memory. Hairless, plump, taut flesh. The slit parted just enough to give him a glimpse of the dark, alluring depth within. When he’d washed her, he’d never ventured inside the crease. Would the delicate lips grip his finger? She was so small he couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to slide his penis in there. Dear God, he wouldn’t last more than a few thrusts.

“He’s already hard.” Van’s voice held way too much awe as he crouched behind one of her spread legs and curled a hand around her thigh. His other hand held a purple silicone dildo, presumably what she’d sent him to fetch from the cabinet.

Would Van use it on her while Josh watched? Would the bastard have sex with her again? His heart raced, and his blood heated. Beneath the dread of Van’s participation was a selfish hope that she would masturbate right there, so close to his face.

She took the dildo from Van and held it to Josh’s lips. “Wet it.”

His inhibitions fled as her free hand slid between her legs, fingers separating the folds and disappearing inside. He licked the silicone with a dry mouth, tried to gather spit, and spread it over the tip. The glide of her fingers between her slit and the hitch in her breath melted his body into a thrumming pulse of need.

At the edge of Josh’s periphery, Van shifted stiffly, angled toward her, his breaths quickening.

She turned, kneeling on the mattress, and thrust her beautiful heart-shaped rear so close to Josh’s face, he could see the freckle in the crease between her cheek and thigh. But the freckle faded next to the sinful view of her sex splitting her from anus to clitoris.

The smooth arches of her cheeks curved into the divide and led to folds of skin so pink and velvety and enthralling. A rush of wet air whistled past his teeth. The pulse in his erection intensified, quivering sensations through his body. He jerked his arms in the restraints and tried to distract his lust with rules. No talking. No masturbating. No coming. He groaned.

How was this training? Perhaps over time, he’d learn to hate it or resent her for putting him through it. Was that even possible?

She lowered her forehead to the mattress and reached the dildo between her spread thighs. The tip separated her folds, the soft-looking skin clinging to the silicone as it slid in, inch by inch. Sweat slicked his palms. The rope dug into his heaving chest.

She withdrew the toy, slid it back in. Out. In. The dildo glistened with her moisture, filling the room with a sucking sound as her channel swallowed it greedily. It was torture. It was beautiful. He wanted to put his mouth on her, his cock in her. He burned to know how deep he could go, how fast he could thrust, how long he could hold on while staring into her eyes and tasting her lips.

The pull of a zipper sounded beside him. Josh kept his eyes on Liv but could make out the movements of Van pushing down his jeans and taking himself in hand.

No. No, not Van. Not with her. Rage boiled to the surface, straining his muscles, searing his skin. He ground his teeth, seething to chase Van from the room. He couldn’t do this, dammit. Not again. His arms twisted in the rope. He had to get free, to protect her, to fight for her.

A grunt muffled beside him, followed by a shouted exhale. Van jerked, shoulders twitching, and groaned out a sigh.

Josh was, at once, relieved and revolted by Van’s orgasm. But how quickly would he be ready to go again?

Her dark eyes flickered over her shoulder, skimming over Van’s groin, and collided with Josh’s gaze. There was a softening in her expression, in the skin exposed above the kerchief, as she accelerated the strokes of the dildo. The shared eye contact made him want to hold her tight and glide his length deep, their bodies so close, so intimate, he would learn everything about her. Every bump and turn inside. Every dream, every secret, hidden away in every nook and crevice of her heart. He craved that knowledge more than he’d ever craved anything in his life. He craved her.

His hips rocked, his erection stabbing the air, the plug sharpening the sensations. She flexed her pelvis, riding the dildo in sync with his movements. Their eyes held, her desire feeding his. Veins pulsed in his cock, his arousal coiling, straining, unable to reach the relief he so desperately needed. He couldn’t come without stimulation. He couldn’t come without permission.

She blinked at Van, back to him. Josh’s body shuddered. His penis ablaze,

Вы читаете Deliver Us: Books 1-3
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату