Page 13 of Untamed
I heard a heavy footfall, a couple of steps sounding over the loud music. My pulse started to pound in a staccato rhythm.
“He just stepped into the hall.” I moaned again as heat flashed through me. Jasper had said he liked to watch, but never in my wildest dreams had I imagined that I would be the same. “He’s waiting. Watching. How does that make you feel?”
I couldn’t use my words but looked up at him with wild eyes. His gaze raked over my face, taking in every nuance of my expression, and I knew, without a doubt, that I was safe with this man. If I didn’t like this, he’d know—he’d pick up on it with those eyes that saw everything, and he’d set me free.
Yeah, those eyes saw everything, and right now they saw just how hot this was making me. His hold on my hair, his insistence, his focus on me.
I wanted it. I needed him.
“You like it.” The words were mocking in the best possible way. “Would you like it if he took his own cock out? If he jacked himself watching you get me off?”
Oh. My. God.
I was drowning in the sensation, my muscles rigid as pleasure danced around me, through me, stroking and licking and sucking and teasing enough to keep me on edge but not send me over.
I couldn’t go over because for some reason I just couldn’t until he said I could. Right now, my pleasure was held in his hands.
“He’s doing it.” Jasper’s voice was harsh. “He’s unzipping his jeans. Do you want him to continue?”
I nodded around his cock as saliva pooled in my mouth. I could hear the faint sound of the zipper being drawn down, could imagine a second erection springing free from its confines.
“He’s got his cock in his fist, Cari.” I rocked against him, my eyes starting to water. I was overflowing everywhere, wet and wanting, full of need. “He’s pumping himself because he’s so turned on by you.”
Frantic, I started to move faster. I thought he might use his hold on me to slow me down, keep me at the pace he dictated, but he let me do as I wanted, let me suck harder and faster, his thrusts speeding up to match my new pace.
“Someone else is watching, too.” I pressed myself against the long, immovable legs in front of me, needing support. “He’s just watching, but I bet he’s hard, too. Aching. Wishing it was his cock in your mouth.”
I think I screamed, the sound garbled around my mouthful. I couldn’t see, couldn’t taste, could only feel, driven past a point I hadn’t even known I had.
Jasper pulled me back, my mouth releasing him with a wet pop. I cried out as he hooked his hands beneath my arms and tugged me up, up, until my legs were around his waist. He twisted, slamming me against the cold wall again, and I undulated my hips, crying out for more.
“Dirty girl.” Bracing me against the wall, one hand started to pluck at my nipple with deliciously greedy strokes as the other drove beneath the thin fabric of my dress. Impatient fingers shoved past the soaking wet cotton of my bikini panties, slipping through my dripping lips and pushing inside.
“Shit!” He was using two fingers, or maybe it was three; either way his hand was huge, working me open with short, choppy thrusts. My arousal eased the path, but still, he was big and I was not, and it stung in a way that just excited me more.
My vision was blurred, but over Jasper’s shoulder, I could see the two men. One stood just inside the hallway, framed in the open door. He leaned against the wall in shadow, but I knew he was watching.
The other was in the light, someone I recognized. It was Jackson, and that made me even hotter. My stare flickered over him as I rode Jasper’s fingers, still feeling the other man’s tongue stroking across my neck.
The golden skin, the chestnut hair, and most of all the groans coming from his mouth as he jacked himself to my pleasure were gorgeous to me.
“Are they still watching?” Jasper gasped into my neck, his strokes coming hard and fast. His jeans had fallen down around his hips, and his erection rubbed against my inner thigh in an insistent rhythm.
“Yes,” I gasped, my hips rocking into the thrust of his fingers, craving more.
“Good. I want them to see me make you come.”
I shook my head. “Don’t worry about that. Just fuck me, please. Any way you want to.”
“What?” My words seemed to confuse him, enough that for a brief moment, his gaze cleared as he stared down at me. I looked away, even as I continued to rock against him.
It felt so good, and I was going to ride it as far as I could. But I knew my own body, and if my own fingers weren’t involved, that release wasn’t going to happen. And that was okay. I’d get off a dozen times later tonight, touching myself to the memory of this.
“Ah.” Understanding seemed to dawn. He smirked as he adjusted his hand, and I cried out when his thumb brushed over my clit. “Well, then, I guess I’m just going to have to make you.”
It wouldn’t happen. I knew it wouldn’t. But as his thumb stroked slow, insistent circles over my swollen clit at the same time that his fingers stretched the lushness inside of me, heat sparked deep in my core. I wondered, fleetingly, if this might actually be it, and then I didn’t have to wonder, because a tide started rising, pushing me higher and higher and then letting me fall.
My cries echoed off the empty walls of the hallway. When I opened my eyes, I saw Jackson, feet spread wide, fist pumping fast and slick until his groan mingled with my own. The man behind him was still in shadow, but I caught enough movement to know that he was rubbing the front of his tented pants, chasing his own pleasure at the sight of me.
