Page 47

It’s overwhelming, in all the right ways. Two mouths. Two sets of hands. Like my body is being worshipped.

And this is just the beginning.

Then Zander pulls back to look at me. Jarek does too, over my shoulder, and for one second, I’m aware of every part of me under two sets of eyes. Old habit kicks in, and I start to cross an arm over my stomach.

Jarek catches my wrist gently before I get there. “We’ve talked about this.”

Zander’s eyes travel down my body and come back up slowly.

“Don’t hide from us,” he says.

Somehow, that exchange works better than any compliment.

Zander glances down at my feet.

“Shoes on or off?” I ask.

“On,” Jarek says immediately.

“Off,” Zander says. “She’s been standing in them for hours.”

I laugh and kick them off. Jarek sighs like he’s been robbed, then pulls his shirt over his head and shoves down his pants. He’s naked before Zander has even undone his cuffs.

I reach for Zander’s shirt buttons myself, and he lets me. My hands aren’t steady. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“Bed,” Jarek commands, and I don’t need to be told twice.

He gets there first, settling back against my headboard, legs spread, one hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it lazily while he watches me. His grin is pure trouble.

“Come here, sweetheart.”

I crawl up the mattress on my hands and knees until I’m between his legs. Behind me, I feel the bed dip as Zander kneels at the edge. I look over my shoulder. He’s still in his slacks, with his shirt hanging open. His hands slide up the backs of my thighs and settle on my hips.

My eyes go back to Jarek.

“If you want to,” Jarek says, his chest rising and falling fast.

Want to? He has no idea how badly I want to.

I wrap my hand around the base of him and lick slowly from bottom to tip. He swears under his breath. I do it again, then take just the head into my mouth and swirl my tongue around the ridge.

His head thunks back against the headboard.

“Fuck.” He slides a hand into my hair. “That mouth, Nina.”

Behind me, Zander hooks his fingers into my panties and draws them down my thighs. I lift one knee, then the other, and he slides them off and tosses them aside. Then his fingers trace up the inside of my thigh and through me, slow and light, and he makes a low sound when he finds out how wet I am.

He parts me with two fingers and drags them slowly up and down, spreading me open. When he finds my entrance, he circles it with his fingertip, teasing, never quite giving me what I want. I whimper and push back into his hand.

“Do you want his fingers in your pussy, sweetheart?” Jarek asks.

I give a slight nod.

Then Zander pushes one finger in, slow and deep, then a second, and I moan around Jarek’s cock.

Jarek’s hips jerk. “Suck,” he says, half command, half desperate plea, and I’m more than happy to oblige.

I take him deeper, working the base with my hand while my mouth takes care of the rest. Behind me, Zander curls his fingers and finds his rhythm. Steady. Unhurried. His thumb circles my clit, never quite pressing, and every time I moan, Jarek feels it and groans louder.