Page 18 of Trapped Truth

“In case you didn’t notice, we’re a little short on clothing right now. Sacrifices have to be made.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining. You should go commando more often.”

My hands rest on his strong, powerful thighs, above where his residual limb ends. His erection stands tall, thick and slightly curved, glistening with a bead of pre-come across the velvet tip.

His groan echoes above me when I duck to lick over his smooth head. Saltiness bursts on my tongue as I greedily drink his length down, taking the full thickness deep into the back of my throat.

“Jesus, love. Your mouth is fucking heavenly.”

Bobbing up and down pulls a strangled moan from his mouth. It’s a thrill—being able to turn someone like Warner into little more than a gasping prisoner trapped by my lips. I love the power I hold over him.

Letting my tongue glide up and down the length of his shaft, I’m jerked upright by fingers tightening in my hair. Warner wrenches me free from his cock, his blown pupils watching the strands of saliva that stretch between us.

“I’m going to fill that pretty throat up if you don’t stop,” he pants, tugging on my hair. “And I’d much rather do that buried inside you.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Get your perfect backside up here, and let me see what’s mine.”

Rising from the floorboards, it’s little effort to shimmy my panties down. I climb onto the bed then spread my legs either side of Warner’s waist, bringing our naked bodies flush. His hands move to clasp my hips in a possessive hold.

Mouth lowering to attack my breasts, he sources my nipple with a swipe of his tongue. My back arches to silently plead for more. Where our bodies connect, his dick rubs across my pussy lips, creating agonising friction.

I’m powerless to stop myself from rocking back and forth, his firm steel slick from passing through my folds. The pressure is a bittersweet taunt. With a single pump, he could drive into me and satisfy us both.

“I can feel how soaked you are,” Warner murmurs deep in his throat.

“You started it.”

“Shit, we need a condom before I can’t stop myself.”

“I don’t have one,” I whine.

“Dammit… Hold on, give me a sec.”

When Warner gently pushes me off his lap, I land sideways on the bed. His heated stare remains on me as I spread my legs and begin rubbing circles over my clit, needing something to relieve the ache.

Once he’s checked his discarded clothes and spat a curse, I’m ready to shamelessly beg. I need something. Anything. He’s gotten me all worked up and pushing a finger into my wet slit isn’t cutting it.

“Don’t hate me for this,” he says then shouts, “Hyland! Get in here!”

“What makes you think he’ll have protection?”

“Here’s hoping. Feeling shy?”

Eyes narrowed, I make a point of just how bold I’m feeling by thrusting a second finger deep into my cunt. Warner swallows hard, watching me work myself over, hand pumping on repeat to stretch my entrance so it’s ready to receive him.

“Do I look like I’m shy?”

“Hyland!” he yells again, a little more frantically. “Give him a show.”

Seizing hold of my stiff nipple, I twist and flick it, limbs wriggling on the bed. When the door to the room flies open, I have the perfect view of Hyland’s face slackening in surprise on the threshold.

“Uh, hey?”

“Do you have a rubber on you?” Warner asks him, deadpan. “Our girl’s in need.”

His expression cycles through myriad emotions until he lands on amusement. “That’s what you called me in here for?”