Ensnared (Brutes of Bristlebrook, #1)(19)

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

The dirty words make my breath catch in shock, but my eyes drop to his lips.

“I want . . . ” The words stall in my throat. I’m breathing embarrassingly hard.

“Say yes, pet.”

Pet? I feel like I should have a problem with that word.

Beau rests his forehead against mine, and his closeness is decadent. Inebriating.

Maybe later I’ll have a problem with it.

“I—” His mouth tasted like a promise. Like sin. But surely that was just sleep deprivation. Surely it wasn’t that good.

I should probably double check.

“Yes.”

The word escapes me like a sigh, like a plea, and Beau’s lips curve as his hand flattens on my thigh, gliding up and inwards. Tensing, I try to clench my legs to trap his hand, but his knees are inside mine and, with a quick, brutal motion, he uses them to push my legs apart. Too far apart. His other arm holds firm around my waist.

I’m trapped. Exposed. Dominic watches me with heavy-lidded eyes, unfazed and confident on his throne. His expression is detached, almost careless, as I’m manhandled and stripped in front of him.

Why does that turn me on even more?

“Fuck.” The hoarse curse from Lucky makes me turn. He has abandoned the TV completely and all humor has drained from his face. Strain lines his tight jaw as he stares between my now-open thighs. With no underwear, I’m completely bare to him.

My cheeks flame, but before I can squirm away, Beau’s hand moves to cup my slick, silky flesh, and despite myself, I let out a low, hitching sigh. His head dips and his lips skim the side of my neck, over the soft skin beneath my ear. My eyes slide closed. The hand around my waist shifts upwards, palming my heavy breast through my shirt.

Stop, stop, stop, one voice chants. They’re all watching!

Another voice—a better voice, I decide—gasps a husky, I know. Hot, right?

Beau’s fingers curl in to pinch my nipple, tweaking the stiff peak, rolling it between them, and my weak inner protests die on a throaty moan. The motion stings; light pain and heavy pleasure zing through me. He gives the other the same treatment and electric sparks charge and heat my blood until I’m tingling everywhere.

I twist, not to escape this time, but to push against the hand that is just resting against my scorching sex. It’s not enough. I need so much more. Even just cupping me as he is, I know I must be coating his palm—I’m embarrassingly wet. Dripping. But I want his fingers sliding through my drenched folds, need them stroking my clit.

At my squirming, the gentle lips on my skin part and his teeth bite down on the sensitive flesh between my neck and shoulder. Hard. Heat spears me. I arch my back with a gasp as he licks over the bite.

“Stay still for me, darlin’,” he murmurs, voice deeper than usual, his accent thick. “You tell me to stop if you need to.”

I still. Everything in me wants to shiver and grind against his hand until I come but, God, I want to do this right for him. I want to be good. And I really, really don’t want him to stop.

So I obey, but I can’t help my tremble.

He squeezes the hand at my core, and I whimper, but don’t move. Don’t move even though I desperately need him to touch me properly. My body throbs, begging to be filled. I’m not the type of person who often makes demands, but I want to demand now. Or beg. I’ll crawl naked across the floor to him if he only promises to touch me.

Feverish, I look back over at Dom, needing to see if he’s still unfazed. If I’m being good enough. If he likes me like this, wet and squirming on his friend’s lap. But when I look at him, he’s not looking at me at all. He’s looking down at his book, jaw tight.

“Dom,” Beau says in a strained, rough voice.

His knees inside mine nudge me open further until my thighs strain and I’m all but dripping onto the floor. He tilts me toward Dom like a virgin sacrifice. An offering to our king.

But the golden eyes don’t lift. He turns another page.

Shame tangles around my lust, spicy and barbed, as Beau’s chest vibrates. The sound he lets out is suspiciously like a growl.

Before the hurt can set in, I become aware of footsteps, and someone standing in front of me. My eyes fly open, and Jasper’s savagely beautiful face is intent as he looks down on me.

The arm around me tightens in warning, but I’ve stilled completely. The steely thighs that spread me flex, taking me to my limit, making room for the other man to step between them.

“A pretty sacrifice,” Jasper murmurs approvingly, echoing my thoughts. His fingers brush over my hair, and he adds coldly, “One only a fool would pass up.”

There’s a rough thump in the background, but in my haze of arousal, I’m lost to wondering what Jasper’s mouth tastes like . . . and how it would feel if his tongue replaced Beau’s hand between my slippery thighs.

I catch my lip with my teeth to avoid another whimper at the visual. Bad. Bad librarian. My lids wilt, heavy with lust; it’s an effort to keep my eyes open.

“Interesting.” Jasper’s thoughtful tone is far too liquid and cool against the raging heat inside me. Steam. That’s what we’ll make together. Hot, wet, cloudy steam. He bends on one knee, between my and Beau’s thighs, and his graceful fingers stroke over my chin.

“It was until you ruined the damn view.” Lucky’s voice holds more than a hint of bite.