Wicked Pleasure (Bound Hearts #9)
Page 47After loosening his pants, she moved her hands to the buttons on his shirt. “You’re wearing too many clothes, Cam.”
The clothes were disposed of quickly. Cam leaned forward and took her lips in a hard, passion-fierce kiss as he shed his own. Then his lips lifted and her arms raised so he could dispose of her T-shirt, leaving her almost nude before him.
A second later she was naked, the light cotton sleep pants puddled on the floor as he spread her legs farther, then gripped her rear and dragged her to the edge of the couch.
She expected him to take her. To spear inside her, wild and deep; instead, he lowered himself farther, bent his head, and let his tongue circle the engorged nubbin of her clit.
Jaci’s head fell back against the couch, her hands tangling in his hair as pleasure began to suffuse her. She loved this. Loved the feel of his lips and tongue caressing her there. The way he licked and hummed his approval against the sensitive flesh. The way his head went lower and his tongue flickered around the clenching opening of her sex.
She couldn’t stop her moans. They filtered through the room, echoed around her. She spread her thighs farther and lifted herself to him, whimpering as two fingers worked inside her.
“Cam,” she whispered his name, staring down at him, dazed by the enjoyment of the act that she saw in his eyes. “It’s so good. I love your mouth. Your hands.” His touch. She loved him. Loved him until her heart broke for his pain and for the scars he carried.
He let her watch as his tongue licked over her clit again. His fingers were moving inside her, thrusting slow and easy, stretching her as her juices coated them, making the entrance slick and hot.
His lips pursed then, and he kissed the little bud, throwing her higher.
“Touch me more.” She lifted closer, feeling a need growing inside her that she couldn’t make sense of. It was burning in her, locked inside a part of her soul she didn’t know existed. She needed him harder, deeper, stronger than she had ever needed him before. She needed him to sink inside her, needed to sink inside him.
He kissed her clit again, drawing it into his mouth as another cry tore from her lips and she tried to pull him closer, tried to force his fingers deeper.
He was being too slow, too easy. She needed more sensation, and he was deliberately withholding it.
“You’re going about it the wrong way, Jaci.”
She froze as Chase’s voice sounded at her ear. Her eyes jerked open to stare into Cam’s, to see the arousal burning so hot, so deep, she wondered flames weren’t covering them.
And she nearly orgasmed. Her womb spasmed and she felt the muscles clenching around Cam’s fingers.
Her lashes drifted closed, and Cam chose that moment to flick her clit with his tongue again, to flex his fingers inside her. Need, brutal and sharp, tore through her, and she whimpered with the force of it. Did she want him to leave? Did she want to step across a line she knew she could never return from?
Just her pleasure. Her need. It was about so much more, and she knew it, sensed it.
She forced her eyes open, forced herself to stare back at Cam as he watched her.
The pleasure was intensifying in his expression, in his eyes. As though seeing her pleasure only amplified his. Seeing his brother touching her, his teeth raking over her neck, pushed his own arousal higher.
His fingers retreated from her vagina, then a second later pushed forward, forcibly opening her, shocking tender nerve endings with a pleasure that nearly sent her screaming into orgasm.
Chase’s hands moved along her side and curved beneath her arms, cupping her breasts in his large palms, his fingers gripping her nipples and working them roughly.
Oh, she needed that. That edge of pain just shy of agony. Pleasure intensified inside her, burned so bright that perspiration began to slicken her skin.
“Cam, please,” she cried out breathlessly, feeling release just a breath away.
His gaze was filled with nothing but hunger now, nothing but pleasure. There were no shadows, there was no pain.
Jaci twisted in his hold, arched her breasts into Chase’s hands. She kept the fingers of one of her hands locked in his hair, while she curled her other arm behind her and gripped Chase’s hair.
His was coarser than Cam’s, just a little. He nipped her ear as she pulled his head to her and pressed closer to Cam’s mouth.
They were destroying her. This was beyond pleasure, beyond ecstasy. It was wicked and daring, and she couldn’t help but abandon herself to them.
“No. No, Cam.” She tried to jerk her hand back from Chase, only to have him catch it, hold it above her head while Cam drew back from the moist, slick flesh of her pussy. “Don’t stop.”
He ignored her cry. Instead, he lifted her—they lifted her—until she was stretched out on her back on the couch and Chase was moving closer.
He wasn’t naked. He wore only a pair of hastily donned jeans, the snap undone, his erection pressing tight and hard against the zipper.
“Watch.” Now Cam held her, his arm beneath her shoulders, his lips moving to hers as they parted to protest. “Watch me. Feel what he’s doing. Watch me, Jaci. Feel him.”
She watched him. She forced her eyes to stay open, to stay on his, as his lips settled over hers and Chase’s tongue suddenly delved into the wet depths of her sex.
Her nails bit into Cam’s shoulders as his lips slid from hers. His teeth nipped at her jaw, her neck. As she writhed beneath Chase’s ministrations between her thighs, her back arched, lifting her breasts, as she screamed out from Cam’s possession of a tight, violently sensitive nipple.
As Cam drew her nipple into his mouth, raked it with his teeth, and then sucked it hard and deep inside his mouth, she felt herself explode.
Chase’s lips and tongue pushed her further over the edge. Hands roved over her body, rough and dominant, stroking and caressing, as she felt herself melt from the inside out.
It was like unraveling. Like coming apart at the seams, with no hope of ever coming together the same again.
Then, Chase was at her side, his lips lowering to her breasts, his cock free of his pants as he stroked himself.
Oh, God, it was so sexy. So hot. Watching his large, tanned hand, his fingers curling over his erection, stroking the glistening flesh.
“I’m dying.” She stared back at Cam as he lifted her until her rear rested on his thighs and his cock nudged into her pussy. “You’re killing me.” Her head tipped back as the words became a scream.
Cam pushed inside, thrusting hard and deep before he bent over her, pushing his arms beneath her shoulders and lifting her against his chest before straightening and laying back, pulling her over him.
Her thighs gripped his hips as his cock surged inside her. Behind her, she felt Chase preparing her. Felt the lubrication, the touch of his hands, and then the slow, easy entrance into her rear.
It was just as hot, just as brutally sexy as before. But staring into Cam’s eyes, she knew it was more. This time, as hot as it was, as much pleasure as it was, it was only Cam’s touch, his need and his hunger that her body was responding to.
His hands gripped her hips as he moved beneath her, and Chase moved over her. Hard and deep, thrusting inside her with swift, hard strokes, taking her.
A throttled scream filled her throat. She felt them thrusting harder, stroking, caressing her on a level of pleasure that sent her spiraling into ecstasy. She heard a male growl of pleasure, Chase’s or Cam’s, she wasn’t certain. She didn’t know. She didn’t care.
“Jaci. Baby.” Cam. His voice was charged with lust and pleasure. “There you go, sweetheart. So fucking sexy. So hot and sweet.”
He was pounding inside her, his voice tight and groaning. There was no doubt that he wanted it. No doubt that he needed it. But there was no doubt in her mind now, either. She was as wild and as wicked as she had always feared she would be in his arms.
She felt the hot, driving jets of Cam’s release spilling inside her, though she was only barely aware of Chase releasing as well behind her.
“Ah, damn.” Cam held her, jerking against her as he shuddered against her. “God, Jaci. Ah, fuck.” He jerked again, harder, spilled inside her again, then trembled against her. “Ah, baby. My wicked, wild little Jaci.”
Cam was almost asleep before he realized it. Drifting in drowsy contentment, his arms locked around Jaci’s sleeping form, his legs encasing hers, holding her close and tight against him.
Hell, he didn’t want to wake up, he thought drowsily. It was nice right here. Damned nice. She was warm and sweet against his chest, her soft little hand beneath her cheek, curled against him like a little cat.
He stroked her hair, albeit weakly, because he swore she had milked the strength from him with the same force she had milked his seed from him.
His release had nearly destroyed him. He wouldn’t be surprised to realize he had sprained muscles with that one, because every muscle in his body had tightened to the breaking point.
He wanted to lie here just a little longer. He’d never done this, he realized—curled a woman into his arms and just lay with her. He had never held a woman. He had been held by them, by monsters who didn’t care what they were doing to him, but he had never held.
He held now, and realized he was holding her as though he were terrified someone would try to take her from him.
The information he had found earlier drew a frown at his brow. It terrified him, the thought that some idiot was out there trying to kill her. Because only an idiot would have bungled it this long. And there was the terror part. He was thanking God it was an idiot. But even idiots got lucky eventually.
He pulled the throw over them as he let the information sift through his mind, let himself drift in the curious contentment he found here. With her.
Maybe it was just the bed, he thought. Because right here, on this couch, a little wider than most, it just felt right.
One thing was for sure, he was going to have to do something about Richard Roberts. There was a senator on the punitive committee of the club. Roberts was a threat to Jaci, and Jaci belonged to him. He could petition Ian to have the committee brought together to take action against the Robertses. That would be easier than killing the bastard.
Not that Cam cared if he did kill him, but he knew Jaci. She would just get pissed off over the blood, and she might not let him hold her like this again.
And he did like holding her just like this.
He smiled, curious at the feelings that swept over him, that made him question the long, lonely nights he had allowed her to sleep on the end of the sectional, rather than right here in his arms. Because this was where she belonged.
He kissed her brow, the top of her head, and closed his eyes. He’d try it, just for a little while. Sort through his emotions and his little phobia while he drifted in this lazy contentment.
One thing was damned certain: He wasn’t letting her go. And he wasn’t going to let her cry over him ever again. He’d make something up if he had to. Hell, he could come up with something that would explain this darkness, while holding the truth back. He just had to think about it, that was all. Then Jaci and Chase would be reasonably satisfied and he could keep the shameful truth to himself. As far as he was concerned, all that mattered was comforting her. He couldn’t have her crying for him, not ever again. Hell, he’d survived. He had a few inconsequential issues, but he hadn’t turned out too damned bad. He’d turned out good enough for Jaci to love, and that was all that mattered to him.