“Yes,” I sigh. “It felt amazing.”
“Good,” he says, his tone pleased. “Now, I want you to strip. Get rid of the shirt, skirt, and the slip. Everything else stays.”
As I shrug my shoulders to let the blouse slide from my arms to the desk behind me, I watch Roman watch me with a hunger like I’ve never seen. I’ve had plenty of sexual partners leer at me, lust and desire evident on their faces as they stare at my body, which, thanks to my mother’s judgmental influence, I take great pains to keep tight and toned.
But what I see in Roman is more than mere sexual want. It’s an all-encompassing need. To have me, take me, claim me. The level of restraint required for him to sit back and let someone else call the shots is etched in the set of his jaw and the steel in his eyes, and I shiver at the thought of all that wildness being unleashed as he takes control of my body and my mind.
Roman palms his erection, rubbing it through his dress pants as he uses his other hand to move his tie out of the way and then starts to unbutton his black shirt. I step out of my skirt and reach back without looking to drop it on the desk. He pulls his shirttails out and takes care of the last few buttons, and my breath catches when the sides of his shirt fall apart to reveal male beauty that almost hurts to look at.
Ropes and cords of muscle are bunched beneath smooth, tanned skin. Tribal tattoos cover each of his pecs and bleed into the ones I know are on his rounded shoulders and all the way down to both wrists. I don’t have a lick of artistic talent, but I have a sudden urge to paint him, needing to capture his male perfection so I can treasure it even after this comes to an end.
I’m so lost in admiring him, the sound of Austin’s voice startles me. “It’s awfully quiet over there. What’s going on, Roman?”
“She’s taking her sweet-ass time, man. Still has the slip on.”
“If you want me to be efficient, you should stop distracting me,” I say, defiance in my tone. Then, because a tiny, prideful part of me refuses to roll over and submit, I add, “If I’m not doing a good enough job for you, maybe I should just leave the slip on.”
Austin laughs, but Roman remains stoic as he arches a challenging brow. A true testament to the differences in their personalities. Though, with what Austin says next, I suspect he’s got a side to him I haven’t seen. One that isn’t always the jovial jokester he shows the world.
“Roman, put that noose of yours to good use.”
A devilish gleam lights up Roman’s eyes. “Behind or in front?”
“Behind,” Austin answers.
He pulls the knot of his tie free and yanks it off, the whistle of silk singing from the friction, sounding like a whip flying through the air. He leans forward, reaches around me, and expertly binds my wrists, one crossed over the other, checking that it’s tight but not painful.
“How barbaric of you boys.” I know needling them will only get me in more “trouble,” but I can’t help it. The more comfortable I become with this strange situation, the more my sassy side shows, albeit a tamer version of her. “Now that I’m bound, what’s next? Gagged?”
Austin says, “All in good time, darlin’. Roman, you got any scissors in that desk?”
“Of course,” he says smugly. “Never know when you’ll need a good pair of scissors.”
I gasp then narrow my eyes at him. “You wouldn’t.”
But he’s already retrieving them from a drawer, and they’re a hell of a lot more intimidating than the typical pair you get at Office Depot. These are large and silver and look sharp as hell. When he holds them up and opens them they literally make the sound of metal glancing metal. It’s a scene straight out of Edward Scissorhands.
“Hold still, baby,” he says, his gentle tone belying his wicked intentions. “The last thing I want to do is cut you.”
I freeze, not even daring to breathe, and watch with butterflies in my belly as Roman holds the lacey hem in one hand and slips the blades up the center of my lingerie. He’s careful to keep the sharp tip angled away, but the cold metal of the handle grazes my heated skin. The contrast makes me shiver, or maybe it’s the simple fact that Roman Reeves is removing my last piece of clothing with a pair of sheers at his friend’s command before he does only Austin-knows-what with me. Yeah, it’s definitely that.
When he completely cuts through the front, Roman makes two more snips, severing the spaghetti straps, and tugs the ruined garment away from my body. “Jesus Christ,” he grinds out.
“How’s she look, bro?”
Roman’s gaze devours me, eating me up inch by inch, from my feet all the way to my face. “Like a fucking wet dream in heels.” His voice drops an octave. “Like she’s mine.”
Fluttery things kick up in my belly to hear him say that, even as my head is warning me that claims made in the heat of the moment are about as solid as the fog that rolls in off Lake Michigan in the morning.
Austin makes a grunting sound of approval. “So then reciprocate, my man. Show your girl what she gets in return.”
My eyes are transfixed on Roman’s hands as they begin to unfasten his belt. It’s obvious what Austin is going to want me to do next. Weeks’ worth of anticipation, of wondering what he looks like, how it would feel to have Roman filling my mouth, my lips stretching around his girth, the balls on his piercing running over my tongue…
When he finally has his pants open and pulls himself free, I’m reminded that I’ve never really seen his cock before. A quick flash in a darkened alley and covered by a condom is nothing to go on, so I’ve been solely dependent on my mind to come up with the details other than size. But now that I see it completely unfettered and at my visual disposal, I realize just how pathetic my imagination truly is.
His. Cock. Is. Glorious. You know in the movies, when a wide shaft of light pierces through parting clouds like a spotlight from God to illuminate the Magnificently Monumental Thing that everyone should be looking at? That’s what should happen every time Roman Reeves takes his dick out. It’s that amazing.
It’s long and thick and tan, like he sunbathes in the nude, and ridged with a thick vein on its underside. And lord have mercy, his piercing. After that night together, I did some research. He has an apadravya—a barbell that goes down through the center of the head, and its silver balls rub along a woman’s walls, including the G-spot. Halle-frickin-lujah.
I watch greedily as his strong hand strokes up the shaft. A drop of pre-cum beads from the tiny slit just before he swipes his thumb across the tip, making it shiny with his lubrication, and my mouth instantly waters.
As he starts jerking himself off with agonizingly slow pumps inside his fist, he says, “I wish you could see how hungry she is, man. She can’t tear her eyes away. Pupils are dilated, lids at half mast, and she just fucking licked her lips.”
I don’t remember doing that, but to be fair, I’m not very focused on me right now.
“Fuck, we should have thought of doing a video conference,” Austin says almost to himself as Roman arches a thoughtful brow. “Addie, you with me, girl?”
“With you.”
“Good. Now bend at the waist, keep that tight ass high in the air, and suck his big dick.”
Chapter Fifteen
Roman
I’m going to lose my fucking mind.
Addison Paige—the woman who’s made jerking off a new necessity to keep my dick under control the last few months—is naked, in my office, and about to give me head. I don’t think I’ve looked forward to a blow job this much since my first one the summer before freshman year, and if I don’t lock my shit down, Addison’s liable to make me come just as fast as I did back then.
She’s fucking exquisite in nothing but garters and heels, her pale skin bathed with light from the setting sun behind me. Her body is tight and athletic, with breasts small enough to give her the freedom of going without a bra, something I’m incredibly grateful for. I want to pull her in and alternate tracing the graceful swells with my tongue and sucking on her hard, pink n
ipples.
Unfortunately, I agreed to park my ass in the passenger seat on this ride, so here I sit, waiting to see where my friend will take us.
“Now bend at the waist, keep that tight ass high in the air, and suck his big dick.”
Thank fucking Christ.
Addie smiles coyly at me, but doesn’t move to obey right away. “Do you suppose I can get released for good behavior?” she asks, indicating her bound hands. “I can do a much better job with their help.”
I almost answer before I remember to defer to Austin. Goddamn it, I hate this. “Rowdy?” I ask tightly.
“As sweet as I bet she looks all trussed up, I’m sure you’d appreciate the use of all her talents.” Austin’s voice hints at the strain I imagine he has from not having anyone to help with the raging boner this call is giving him. “Go ahead, you lucky bastard.”
Before he finishes talking, I reach around and untie her, carelessly dropping my Armani tie to the floor. I refrained from the temptation earlier, but this time I take advantage of the close proximity of my face to her body and start to kiss a path across her stomach. While my mouth works her front, my hands squeeze and mold the bare globes of her ass.
I hear her sigh and lift my gaze to see her eyes close and her head drop back. Her fingers thread into my hair, sending sensations zinging down my spine to my balls, and I have no idea how I’m going to hold myself together until I can sink inside her.
The tip of my tongue dips into her navel as I slip my hand between her thighs. Jesus fucking Christ, her thong is soaked completely through, coating my fingers as I brush them along her folds.
“Roman,” she moans. Hearing my name on her lips like a plea snaps the last thread I have on my control.
“Sounds like you’re deviating from the plan, bro.”
“New plan,” I growl as I pick her up and sit her on my desk. “Follow my lead.”
“Desperate much?” he says.
“Jealous much?” I retort with a smirk he can’t see but I know he hears.
“Touché.”
Addison is looking down at me with those cerulean eyes, waiting to see what I’ll do next. If I had her in my bed, I’d take my time building her up, learning her body, memorizing what drives her crazy and then insane. But we’re in my office, and even more to the point, Austin’s right—I’m fucking desperate.
Desperate to taste her. Desperate to make her come. Desperate to feel her around me. Desperate to come inside her. It’s not an emotion a control-freak like me is used to, much less comfortable with. But oddly, I’m not bothered. I simply accept it as a truth, because I can’t imagine feeling any other way when it comes to Addison. Not until much later, after we’ve had our fun and screwed each other out of our systems. Until then? Don’t talk to me about patience. I’m on a goddamn mission.
“Lean back on your hands, but don’t lie down,” I tell her. I want her to be able to see everything I do to her. Want the visual to enhance the mental, which I know Austin will supply while I’m busy.
She grips the back edge of the desk, and I strip out of my shirt. Her gaze roves over my body, her tongue darting out to wet her lips like she can taste the play of my muscles as I move, and her blatant hunger jacks up my pulse to the nth degree. Something else that’s never happened before.
I’ve seen the slack-jawed, glassy-eyed look on thousands of women when I dance as Ruthless. It’s stroked my ego, made me feel good about the impeccable shape I work hard to maintain. But a woman’s appreciation has never fueled my own lust like this. Addison has me off my game like I’ve never been, and it almost has me worried. Then I remember that it’s been months since I’ve had sex and that we’ve been dancing around each other for weeks. Any sane man would be a little on edge in this situation. And that’s how I choose to rationalize that.
I slip her shoes off and let them fall to the floor before placing her feet on the desk to open her wide to me. She’s beautiful, all pale skin and pink accents, blond hair streaming behind her, bottom lip trapped between her teeth. And of course, the piece de resistance…her silk-covered pussy.
I place my hands on her inner thighs and let my thumbs rub lightly up and down her center. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me.” I glance up at her, remembering what she told me last time. “You still going with the medical condition excuse?”
She shakes her head. “Not this time. That’s all for you.” Her admission makes me want to beat on my chest like a damn ape. Then she blushes and hesitantly adds, “For you, too, Rowdy.”
A quick stab of annoyance runs through me that I don’t have a claim on her arousal alone, but I shake it off because that’s what this is all about. Sharing her, watching her get pleasure from what we can both offer her, which is more than either of us could alone.
“You know we love hearin’ that, Addie-girl,” Austin says. “Now I want you to tell Roman what you want him to do to you.”
Our gazes lock, and I will her to follow Austin’s instructions because I want my mouth on her more than I want my next breath. She may have had a shy moment when she spoke directly to Austin a second ago, but as she stares down at me now, I see her confidence grow.
“I want you to lick me until I come.” Then she gives me a sly quirk of her lips and throws down the gauntlet. “If you can.”
I narrow my eyes at her, and I hear my friend muffle his curse and know he’s probably doing his damnedest not to laugh. Sometimes I’d like to punch his good-natured joviality right out of him. Maybe I will later. “You didn’t seriously just say that.”
She gives me a half shrug. “I know it’s not everyone’s forte, so—”
Before she can finish that sentence and further piss me off, I rip the thin silk away from her body. Her sharp intake of breath sparks my need. “Might be easier to just forego wearing these in the future.”
I brace my forearms along her inner thighs to hold her splayed open and use my thumbs to pull her glistening folds apart. Needing to see her reaction, I keep my eyes on her as I lick a long, slow path through her wet pussy. Her sugary tang bathes my taste buds in liquid candy, making my mouth water for more, and I’m instantly addicted to her.
She drags in a sharp breath and moans on the exhale as her gaze zeroes in on my tongue. “You changed into your silver barbell, you wicked fucking man,” she says, her voice husky.
“Fuck yeah, I did. Now sit still and try not to come in the first minute.” I give her a smile to match the wicked accusation then throw her words back at her. “If you can.”
Whatever smart-ass remark she’d planned is stolen from her, along with her breath, the moment I flick her clit. Blood rushes to her sex, making her flesh swollen and red like the ripest of strawberries, and her juices taste just as sweet.
I feast on her pussy like a condemned man with his last meal and watch with depraved satisfaction as rapture devours the last of her inhibitions. She’s absolutely exquisite. Eyelids heavy, lips parted with panting breaths, breasts heaving, and belly quaking.
“Oh, God, that feels so good,” she moans. “Don’t stop don’t stop please don’t stop.”
Usually when a woman begs like that, I back off on purpose. It reminds them who’s in control, and I get off on making them balance on the edge of climax for as long as possible before dragging them over. But I have zero control right now. And not because Austin’s the one in charge of the scene—I’m too far gone to give a fuck what he says at this point—but because I need to make Addison come. It’s my only goal in life right now. Make. Addison. Come.
“He’s good at that, isn’t he, darlin’?” Austin drawls lazily. “I’ve seen him make women come so hard from eating their pussy that they pass out.”
I suck hard on her clit, keeping a steady suction to draw the blood to the surface, making it more swollen, more sensitive. She moans and mumbles a string of unintelligible words as her eyes close and her head drops back.
I growl and release her, causing her to mewl in protest. “She’s not payin
g attention, Rowdy.”
“Addie, be a good girl and keep your eyes on Roman. He’s awfully vain, and if you don’t watch him work his magic on you, his feelings’ll get hurt.”
Addison reluctantly obeys, locking that lust-hazy gaze onto my face. I make a mental note to punch my friend later for his vanity jab, and refocus my attention where it belongs. Using every trick I know, I assault her pussy. Licking, nipping, sucking, swirling. I never pause, never stop, never give her a reprieve. She moans and pants and hisses and begs, all of it like the sweetest music underscoring our dirty deeds, and it’s fucking hot as hell.
“If you think this feels good,” Austin says, “imagine me sucking on your tits while he’s eating you out. Imagine what it would feel like to have the sole attention of two men focused on bringing you more pleasure than you’ve ever dreamed of. Four hands, two tongues, two cocks. Both of us worshipping you, stretching you, filling you.”
“Oh shit,” she squeaks.
Her hips start to rock as her body’s instincts take over, needing to fuck itself to a release. I don’t know if he has a sixth sense or it’s one hell of a coincidence, but Austin gives her permission to do what her body is helpless to stop.
“I want you to fuck his face, Addie-girl. Use his mouth to make yourself come. I want to hear it, and I want it in the next thirty seconds, or I’m telling him to back off and you’ll have to finish without him.”
Her eyes fly wide in panic, but I’m not worried. Never going to happen. Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you. I stiffen and curl my tongue so that the tip dips into her entrance while the ball of my tongue piercing hits her clit as she grinds against my mouth. “Oh God, yes. Fuck my pussy with your tongue. Just like that, yes.”
I snake my arms under her bent legs to reach up to play with her tits, squeezing the mounds and pinching her nipples. As the myriad of sensations take her higher and higher, she takes control of her pleasure. A hand plows into my hair and grips it tight to hold me steady while she fucks my face, faster and harder. The sting in my scalp radiates down into my balls, drawing them in tight.