She shrugged, watching him closely. “Not for much on this end, Sam,” she told him coolly. “Try me again tomorrow. Maybe I just need to think about it for a while.”
His eyes narrowed on her. She was provoking him and she damned well knew it. He looked at the lounger. The special build, like most everything in the August home, was wide and made for comfort.
Before Heather could catch his intent, before he could give it much thought himself, he moved from his position quickly. Before she could do more than gasp, he had pinned her body to the thick pad, his elbows holding his weight from her chest, his legs parting hers as he settled quickly between them.
“How about I help you decide?” he bit out then and lowered his head.
Sam meant the kiss to be forceful. To show her, prove to her, his claim that he could only hurt both of them with his desire for her. But the moment his lips met the petal soft curves of hers, he hesitated. He held her still, his tongue stroking over the seam of her closed lips as he stared down at her opened eyes.
He nudged at the soft curves with his own, stroked them with his tongue, fighting the compulsion to devour with greed as he savored the taste of her.
A small whimper of longing came from her as her eyelids lowered partially, sensually, a second before she parted her lips just enough to allow his tongue entrance. Sam couldn’t halt the groan that vibrated in his own chest. He couldn’t stop the need that burned in his loins like an inferno threatening to rage through his senses.
She was heat and soft, silky desire. Her lips opened to him with a hesitant wariness, much as she had with their first kiss. A tentative acceptance that had his body tightening with lust. His c**k throbbed with imperative demand even as he fought its insistence.
“Heather.” He whispered her name as he sipped at her lips, then stroked inside her mouth once again.
His hands moved from hers as his need to touch her overcame his need to dominate her. Her skin was so soft, so silky and smooth. He wanted to feel it against his fingertips, luxuriate in her response to him.
And she was responding.
Her thighs tightened on his. Her h*ps jerked against his, grinding her cunt against the length of his erection as his tongue stroked over hers, his lips sipping at her as he groaned at the erotic tastes he found there.
Before he ever realized his intention to do so, he had pulled her shirt from the waistband of her jeans, and his palm was sliding up her waist, his fingers trembling with the need to cup the swollen mound of her breast. Her ni**les were hard; he knew they would be hot, knew she would cry out when he captured one between his thumb and forefinger.
Her nails bit at his skin through the fabric of his shirt as he rotated his h*ps firmly against her cunt. He could feel her heat through both pairs of jeans, and the need to sink inside her was nearly driving him insane.
“I could eat you up, right here,” he bit out as his lips moved to her throat, his hand cupping her breast as his fingers gripped her nipple, milking it and caressing the hard point as a strangled groan tore from her throat. “You make me lose all common sense when I’m around you, Heather.”
“What common sense?” Her voice was torn, ragged, as she arched into him, her neck tilting as his tongue raked over her collarbone.
Sam couldn’t help but smile. Her sharp tongue was lethal. But, he had his own weapons. He shifted back, exposing her breast further as he moved toward it, his mouth watering at the thought of the pleasure to come.
* * * * *
Heather fought for breath as his lips covered her distended nipple. Heat seared her flesh, stroked her nipple as his mouth suckled at the mound firmly, his hand gripping it, fingers caressing the underside erotically. She arched to him, a broken moan whispering from her throat. “Someone will see,” she whispered brokenly. “Hear me.”
“Mmm.” Evidently, the thought didn’t bother him. Then she remembered who she was talking to. Sam.
The same man torturing her body with the needs tearing through it was the man who would want to share her, to watch as his brothers took her.
His teeth rasped at her tender nipple as the thought flared through her. She couldn’t halt the desperate clench of her womb, like a soft blow to her stomach as the image of it drifted through her mind.
“I want you.” His lips pressed beneath her breast as his hands moved to the clasp of her jeans. “I need you, Heather. I need you more than the air I breathe.”
And she didn’t have the strength to deny him. Not now, not while the fire of the arousal he called up, poured through her body. As though her blood was lava and her nerve ending receptors of heat that only made it burn brighter.
Her jeans loosened. Heather watched Sam as she gasped for breath, shadowed sensuality in his expression, the intent in his dark eyes. His head lowered again as he kissed his way down her stomach, her smooth abdomen, his hands pulling her jeans and panties down her thighs with teasing strokes of his hand along her skin.
She was shaking as he blew a puff of air across her burning cunt, then shuddered as he finished removing her clothing.
“I want to taste you,” he growled. “Lick you like smooth, warm chocolate, Heather.”
He dropped her jeans and panties to the ground a second before he moved between her thighs, spreading them slowly as he stared up at her.
“Sam.” She could barely speak as she fought for breath. “Someone will see…”
“See me lapping at you, f**king you with my tongue, drawing liquid paradise from your body, Heather.
Let ‘em watch, baby. Let them see how f**king pretty you are as you come for me.”
Her h*ps jerked, rising from the lounger as his tongue swiped through the narrow slit of her inner lips then licked around her swollen clit. The breath halted in her chest, then released on a rising moan. Smooth flame, his tongue was like snaking fire as it licked and probed at her soaked cunt.
He licked around her clit, pulled it into his mouth for a second less than it would have taken for her to cl**ax, then licked down again before his hard hands lifted her h*ps and his tongue plunged inside her clenching pu**y.
She could hear the wet sound of his suckling at her vagina, drawing the cream from her body as more replaced it. Her hands gripped the rails of the lounger as she twisted against his mouth, fighting for more.
She needed him deeper, harder, licking her like that to her very womb.
He slurped at her cunt, his lips smacking as he released her, then his tongue plunging again. His hands moved to her bu**ocks, holding her open as his fingers spread the delicate mounds, one placing exquisite pressure on the puckered entrance to her anus.