Page 117 of Beautiful Forever
Every moral boundary I try to erect keeps crumbling because of my conflicted feelings of wanting a man I shouldn’t. And the guys aren’t making it easy for me to keep those fortifications up around my heart.
I glance behind me at Aleksander. He doesn’t say anything, just looks at me, at us, with an intensity that has desire exploding like a firebomb.
Secluded in the privacy of our living room, the five of us are standing on that precipice. The one I’ve been too afraid to jump off from. The other night at work was a turning point. This moment right here will be life-altering.
Tristan’s mouth brushes the apple of my shoulder. “I’m up for a game ofMother, May I. Con?”
Constantine moves the plate of cookies and positions himself in front of me, his hand tangling in my hair and forcing my gaze up to his, his onyx eyes asking for my permission. Giving me a choice. A chance to say no. That I don’t want to play this game. And just like with Hendrix the other week in Keith’s office, I follow my broken compass and let my heart answer for me.
“I’d like to play.”
“Good girl,” Hendrix says, his seductive cadence sending shockwaves of excitement straight to my core. “Roll over, Firefly.”
I do.
“Hands above your head.”
I do that too.
Raising my arms, Constantine positions them to rest on his lap.
Surrounded by the three of them, I focus on Aleksander and wait on bated breath for what comes next. I want him to want me like this. To see me like this. That I’m his as much as I’m theirs.
The air suddenly shifts in the room, the pressure building and building, like an approaching stormfront where you can sense the power it’s about to release. The anticipation of what’s about to happen is excruciating.
“Aleks, may I touch Syn here?”
Oh my god.
Like a king sitting upon his throne, looking down at his subjects, Aleksander replies, “You may.”
Tristan nudges my sleep shirt up past my navel, and my stomach muscles quiver when cool air brushes along my skin. The sweep of his fingertip across my belly chain feels like being struck by lightning as every muscle locks tight.
Constantine leans over me, his gorgeous face scant inches from mine. “Aleks, may I kiss Syn?”
Aleksander runs his thumb seductively over his lower lip, and I feel it as if he were physically touching me. “You may.”
Constantine’s lips are pillow-soft when he takes my mouth with slow, deliberate swipes of his tongue. Every girl who has seenSpider-Manwhere Kirsten Dunst kisses Tobey Maguire as he hangs upside-down dreams about being kissed this way.
“Aleks, may I take Syn’s shirt off?”
“You may.”
Hendrix bunches my top up my torso one deliberate inch at a time. He uses the rolled fabric as a makeshift blindfold, covering my eyes so I can’t see anything. It’s a form of sensory deprivation where you take away one sense to enhance the others.
“May I kiss her here?” Hendrix says, his warm breath feathering across my breast. My nipples pucker into tight beads, begging for his mouth.
“You may.”
“Oh, fuck,” I moan when his tongue licks across a taut peak, causing a waterfall of tingles to cascade down my body and coalesce into a coiled ball of arousal between my legs.
“I want to see her. All of her.”
At Aleksander’s command, my heart rate skyrockets to dangerous levels.
I jolt when teeth scrape down my stomach and tug at the drawstrings of my pajama bottoms.
“Can you hear how much he wants you, Red?” Gripping under my ass, Tristan sheds the soft cotton fabric down my legs.
