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Scream For Us (Holiday Masked Men #1)(12)

Author:Molly Doyle

Jason grabs the bottle of whiskey from Michael, who shortly after dismisses himself from the room. Pouring himself a glass, Jason slightly lifts the bottom of his mask, revealing the lower half of his face. Pouty, pink lips, press against the glass, as he swallows down the strong liquor with one gulp.

Ghost sits beside me, locking me between the two of them. “What’s next, little Quinn?” he asks, with a crooked grin. “What are some of those dark fantasies of yours?”

Taking a sip of my drink, I squirm in my seat. “I’m not sure,” I reply.

“Don’t be afraid,” he purrs, gripping my leg above my knee. His hand is huge compared to my thigh. “Tonight, we will give you everything you crave and more.”

“We,” I echo, uncertain.

“If that’s what you want,” he begins, sensually grazing his fingers along my inner thigh. “Then that’s what you’ll get.”

“I’ve only ever read about this,” I sheepishly admit. “It’s always been just a fantasy.”

“You asked me to bring them to life,” Ghost urges. “Are you taking that back?”

“No,” I rush out. “I told you I want this.”

Jason takes the glass from my hand, startling me, before setting it onto the table. Returning his attention to me, he leans against the backrest of the couch, placing his hand on my other leg.

Ghost grips my neck, and when I tilt my head back in submission, he smiles deviously. Those pearly white teeth make me weak. Bringing me closer, he presses his lips to my neck, as I allow my eyes to flutter shut, taking in the eroticism of this moment.

Both men caress up and down my legs. An electrical current is in the air, and I’m not only drawn to Ghost, but to Jason, as well.

His lips are soft, and warm, goosebumps rising on my skin. He licks, sucks, and bites his way down to my collarbone. Arching my back, wetness pools between my thighs. I am drenched for them.

Placing my hand over Jason’s, I guide him between my legs, hesitating at the buttons of my bodysuit. His groan is deep, sending tingles throughout my body. My mouth falls open in ecstasy as I give in to the incredible sensations of Ghost’s lips trailing up my neck, his warm breath fanning the delicate skin beneath my ear.

Jason kneels on the floor directly in front of me, spreads my legs, and moves me to the edge of the couch. Readjusting his mask to the top of his head, he buries his face between my thighs and takes me into his mouth.

Letting out a soft moan, I’m already so close to getting off from the excitement alone. Ghost holds my throat, tightening his grip, as Jason quickly flicks his tongue against my clit in the most perfect motion and rhythm.

Thrusting his finger inside of me, he flattens his tongue and twirls in precise circles, sending every nerve ending into overdrive. My inner walls tighten, spasming around him, before he adds in another. Fucking me savagely with long, slippery fingers.

“I envy him right now,” Ghost breathes beside my ear, applying more pressure to my throat, making it hard to breathe. “That sweet, little pussy is my favorite meal.”

My climax claims me without warning. Jason sucks my clit, lightly grazing his teeth on my sensitive flesh. Grabbing the back of his head, I pull him closer, grinding myself against his face. He withdraws his fingers from my wetness and wraps his arms under my legs, gripping my thighs.

Pulling me closer, he devours me, making me come so intensely it’s almost painful. Moaning loudly, I squirm against his mouth. Bucking my hips. Arching my back even more. Letting out helpless, little cries of overwhelming pleasure with each passing second.

“Fuck,” Jason grunts, shrugging off his bulky jacket.

He reaches down, lifting me into his arms bridal style. My arms find their way around his neck, and finally, I’m able to see his face. My heart instantly hammers at how drop-dead gorgeous he is. Dark, brown hair, and hazel eyes, with such masculine facial features.

How did I manage to get so lucky tonight?

Pushing a door open with his shoulder, he walks us into a room, pressing my back to the bed. Reaching behind him, he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing large tattoos on his arms, chest, and ribs. He crawls onto me, the toned frame of his chest pressed to mine.

And he stares at my mouth. “Do you want to taste yourself?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

He stares hungrily into my eyes, and with a quiet groan, he presses his lips to mine. Pushing his tongue into my mouth, forcefully. Greedily. Leaning his forearm beside my head, he reaches down with the other, taking my hand and guiding it to the large, hard bulge beneath his pants.

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