“There’s no way you’ll cum all tense the way you are.”
“You get that tongue working on my clit instead of on words, I’m sure I’ll relax,” she retorted, then, her waspishness disappeared. Grinning, she said, “I’m really glad I wore a skirt today.”
“Not as glad as I am,” he retorted, sinking down onto the seat she’d just vacated. Her butt was halfway down the central line of the table, so she was positioned perfectly for his needs.
Lifting her skirt, he dragged the hem over her thighs, letting his palms scrape over the tender skin. Watching her every move, both the voluntary ones and the involuntary ones, he saw gooseflesh rise on her legs, and smiled at the reaction.
Laughter barked from her all of a sudden. “I’m just trying to imagine what Devon would say if he caught us.”
His lips twitched. “I wouldn’t worry about Devon.” Then, he focused on his prize. “Will it hurt if I spread your legs?”
She snorted. “Even if it did, I’d tell you to spread them.”
“Good to know,” he retorted, chuckling as he parted her thighs and groaned at the way her thong was digging between her ass cheeks. He pulled at the fabric, tugging it higher so that it went all the way down between the lips, and added pressure to her clit.
A muffled groan escaped her, and he saw she’d rested her forearm over her eyes. The move was a curious one. Defensive? Was she hiding?
He decided to leave her be. She was already uncomfortable enough without him pointing something of that nature out to her.
He tugged up again, liking how her hips jerked with the move, before pulling the fabric away from her cunt entirely. With a groan, he sank between her legs and devoured her.
There was no finesse, he was as hungry for her as she was for him.
He didn’t enjoy oral sex all that much. Hadn’t done it often since Janna had basically ruined it for him, but considering this was the only way he could get her off without moving her head in the process, it was the least he could do.
But he should have realized everything would be different with Sascha.
Because, Jesus, her taste.
It got to him like the finest whiskey.
And the sounds she made, her natural responses and the gentle rocking of her hips, were enough to have him reaching down and grabbing his cock in his fist.
Janna had laid there like a limp rag. Her lack of passion had turned him off oral sex, had, if he was being honest, eaten into his confidence. But a simple flick of his tongue had Sascha reacting like she was on fire, and in response, he wanted to devour her. To taste all she had to give. The pressure of his fly was uncomfortable, and he quickly unzipped himself and began to wank his dick as he slurped up her juices.
Exploring her outer lips, he sank onto her clit, suckling the nub until she was shrieking, her hands burrowing into his hair in a way that told him she was loving his mouth on her as much as he was loving having it there.
He smiled against her pussy, and she must have felt it because she screeched, “Bastard!”
“Why am I a bastard?” he teased, muffling the words against her clit. It was hard not to laugh when she let out a shriek.
Her legs rose up onto the table, and her toes curled around the edge before she let her knees sink down once more against the surface.
Her tension had changed as she’d predicted. No longer was she rigid with pain, but with the pain of pleasure. He loved that he’d done that for her, and with little more than his lips, teeth, and tongue.
The thought had him gripping a tighter hold on his shaft and pulling in tandem to the pace of his tongue as he fucked her pussy with it.
With his other hand, he pulled her lips apart to bare her clit to the air, before he pinched it.
She went off like a rocket. He hadn’t expected that reaction. Her hips jerked up into the air, her butt wiggling as she howled before slamming her legs closed and turning half onto her side. Certain he’d hurt her—but shit, the pinch hadn’t been that hard—he watched as she panted, moaned, and groaned her way through what had to be one of the hottest fucking orgasms he’d ever seen in his life.
He couldn’t help it. He had to be a part of this.
He grabbed her legs, pulled them apart again, then grabbed his cock and jacked off. The sight of her flushed face, slick and juicy cunt… it took embarrassingly little to have him shooting his wad. He aimed for her pussy, and wasn’t disappointed when he saw the flecks of his seed coating her most intimate parts.
His head fell back for a second as his own pleasure kneed him in the balls. With a deep breath, he tilted his head forward again, and saw her watching him as he’d watched her.
“That was hot,” she whispered. “And unsanitary. I’ll have to tell Devon I didn’t use antibacterial soap on the table.” A snicker escaped her.
He blinked, caught off guard by her words. Then, he chuckled. “You do realize you’ll have him hovering over you with the ‘kills 99% of all germs’ spray, right?”
“Fuck. I’m better off not teasing him then.”
Grinning, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her knee. “Feel better?”
Her eyelids fluttered, and a dreamy cast overtook her features. “I’ll feel better if you kiss me.”
He frowned. “But I’m…” He wafted a hand at his lips, which were wet, slick from her juices.
She licked her own and curled her finger at him. He eyed the table, unsure if it would hold both their weight. It looked solid enough. Ish. Damning it to hell, he climbed atop it, crawled over her, and bowed his head so their lips could touch.
Her moan vibrated in his mouth, and he let her sup from him as he’d just supped from her. She suckled his tongue, tasted herself on him. Explored his lips and bit down hard on his bottom lip.
“Thank you,” she breathed against his lips. “That was so hot watching you come like that.”
“I made a mess,” he confessed ruefully.
“A hot one,” she whispered, the words close to a rasp.
He nuzzled her cheek with his nose and slipped his hand down between her legs. He rubbed his cum into her pussy, her lips and clit. Anointing all of her with all of him.
“I dare you to stay like that until after the evening meal.”
She smirked, unabashed. “You should have asked if I was on the pill before you did that.”
He cocked a brow. “Word’s spread. We can go in bareback.”
“Wow, romantic. And I thought you only said words I wanted to hear?” she snarked, cocking a brow at him.
He chuckled. “I can’t be Prince Charming all the time.”
“Why not?” she complained, but reached up to cup his cheek. “Dare accepted.”
His eyes flared at that. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.” She grinned. “Why not?”
“Next time, remind me to come on your face.”
She bit her lip, but he could see in her eyes, the idea didn’t revolt her. If anything, it turned her on. Now, wasn’t that a revelation.
Their Sascha was a dirty minx.
And he hadn’t thought she could be much hotter.
Chapter Six
“Dad?”
She guessed answering the phone with a question was indicative of their relationship. Which was kind of sad.
Okay, fuck ‘kind of’. It was very sad.
She wished it was rectifiable too, but there was no way that was possible when her stepmom insisted on destroying bridges rather than constructing them.
“Hey sweetheart,” her father murmured softly. His voice was weird though. Raspy.
“You doing okay? I didn’t expect your call.”
When she’d first moved over, he’d called every couple of weeks. That had drifted down to once a month, now she was lucky if it was three times a year. Sure, she could call him, but his schedule was fucked. He worked so many hours she worried for him, so the last thing she wanted was to ring him and wake him up.
He sighed. “Just wanted to hear your v
oice, baby girl.”
“Okay.” She drew out the syllables, unsure of what to say now. Oh, the irony, she thought. The man called to hear her voice, and said voice went silent on her. She cleared her throat. “How’s things at home?”
“Weird. Tough times here. Makes me glad you’re in England if I’m honest.”
She blinked. Her dad was an ardent patriot. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
His somberness wasn’t too unusual, but she sensed something else was going on other than a disagreement on their homeland’s politics. “Are you okay, dad? You sound weird?”
He gulped, the sound audible. “Linda’s left me.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Linda left you?” she squeaked, repeating him because that was all she was capable of.
Jesus H. Christ.
Linda had spent the last nine years of her marriage practically supergluing herself to Sascha’s father. What the hell had changed? She let out a squeak of shock.
“I’m so sorry, dad.”
“No, you’re not,” he answered, but without malice. “You two never got on. More on her part than yours. You tried a lot at first, I know, and she just played at it. By the time I realized that, it was too late. We were engaged and… I-I loved and missed your mom terribly so I made an even stupider mistake by going through with it just to... Jesus, I don’t even know anymore. It made sense at the time.”
Her eyes widened. Were they really having this kind of conversation?
She turned on her side, away from Sean who was sleeping beside her. She’d crawled into his room last night when a migraine had her sobbing into her pillow. The accident had happened three weeks ago, and the pain was unbearable sometimes. Especially at night with nothing to keep her occupied.
The only relief came when the guys attended to her. Who knew? Orgasms were better than Ibuprofen. But they were scared of hurting her, scared of making it worse, so they barely touched her.
She felt certain she was going to go mad.
They kept trying to make her go to the doctors, too. But the truth was, she was frightened. What if something was really wrong with her?
Sean had nearly jolted out of his skin when she’d climbed under the sheets with him, but he’d soon settled down and had curled about her with an ease that really shouldn’t have existed between them.
It was like they were lovers, but they weren’t.
Not yet anyway.
Only because he wouldn’t. She was more than ready.
Lowering her voice because she’d managed not to disturb Sean’s sleep with her shrieking, she whispered, “It’s okay, dad.”
“No, it’s not. I should never have allowed that to happen. You’re my baby girl,” he muttered fiercely. “You should always have been my priority. If you had, you wouldn’t be in another goddamn country right now.”
“Hey, you were pleased I was here a minute ago,” she tried to gently tease, but the words sailed overhead. She heard a faint slur, and asked, “Have you been drinking, dad?”
There was a long silence. “Maybe.”
She sighed. Her father was the worst drunk ever. He either sobbed out his misery or shouted out his rage. For that reason, she’d always been grateful he preferred maintaining a firm hold on his self-control than to succumbing to the demon’s drink.
“You need to dose up on Alka-Seltzer and get into bed, dad,” she ordered him. “You know you and beer aren’t friends.”
Her warning didn’t do much good. He began sobbing. Though she knew the tears were more alcohol-fueled than anything else, it still hurt to hear her dad crying. It was like his world had ended, and she guessed that in a way, it had.
Linda was one of those Stepford Wives’ types. She’d kept a clean and tidy house, had fed her father well, and had probably scheduled sex in both their diaries to make sure he never strayed.
Yes. She was that weird.
Truth was, she felt sadder at her dad’s misery than the fact that Linda had left him.
Of course, that increased her guilt.
“Dad, please, don’t cry. Just go to bed and get some rest. Call me in the morning. We’ll talk. Properly.”
“You promise?”
She blinked. When had she never answered a call? Even when it was four in the morning like now, and she had a man in her bed…
Sighing, she whispered, “I promise.”
“Night, baby.”
“Night, dad.”
He cut the call first, and she bit her lip, wishing she could have someone confirm he was stumbling into bed.
“Everything okay?”
Sean’s voice was a sleep-deprived rasp that had her wincing guiltily. “Yeah. Everything’s fine. Go back to sleep.” She set her cell phone back on the bedside table, and settled into a comfortable position.
“You don’t talk often, do you?”
It took her a while to admit, “No.”
“How come?”
“We just don’t get along.”
“Why not? You seem really laid back and chilled with most people. Why not with him?”
She sighed. “He just called because he split up with his wife. His wife is why we don’t get along all that well. Ex-wife.”
He rolled onto his side, and as he did, he tucked his arm under his head. She saw a small tuft of hair peeking out from under his arm, and had to smile. She’d never liked those metrosexual guys who shaved everything, and were all neat and tidy. Give her a little rough and ready any day of the week.
“What are you smiling at?” he asked roughly.
“Nothing in particular. Just… I don’t know. You’re hot.”
He grinned. “Thanks. I think. If that’s a compliment that is?”
A snort escaped her before she could withhold it. “When is ‘you’re hot’ never a compliment?”
“True. You just looked at me weirdly. I thought maybe I felt feverish to you or something.”
“I look at most of you weirdly. You’re all weird in comparison to me. I’m like the only one normal here.”
“I’ll give you that.”
She wished she could mirror his position, but that would have involved lying on her bad arm, which wasn’t going to happen.
Not unless she wanted to be sobbing within the next ten seconds.
“How could you not?” she teased. She rested on her back but turned her head to the side so she could look at him properly. “Things weren’t great before they married, and then after? It just got worse. When I was in college I met a guy, who had to move over here for work, I came with him after I finished my degree. It wasn’t hard to leave home, because home hadn’t been home since my mother died.”
“I’m sorry,” he said roughly.
“Not your fault,” she replied with a smile. “What about you? What about your family?”
He shrugged. “Mother, father. Two sisters, and a brother.”
“That it? What about the skeleton in the closet?”
He grunted. “That’s me. I’m the skeleton they try to avoid talking about.”
That had her immediately scowling. “What the fuck? Why?”
“Hey, it’s okay. I came to terms with it a long time ago.”
She blinked. “No fucking way is that something you can accept with ease.” Rage flushed through her, her cheeks were growing pink in reaction. “Holy crap, I’m so fucking mad right now, I don’t think I can stand it. How dare they judge you! And for what? You’re brilliant, generous, gorgeous in looks and nature. What do they have to complain about?”
“For one, they think this set up is weird.”
“It is. Weird, I mean. But, so what? If it makes you happy, that’s all that should count.”
“Seriously, I’ve had a long time to get used to it. There’s no need to be so concerned for me.” He reached forward and traced a finger down her arm. “Thank you though. It’s nice knowing you have my back, sweetheart.”
“Why are you the family skeleton?” she asked, ignoring the words spoke
n to soothe her—she didn’t need fucking soothing. She had no need to be pacified. She wasn’t a baby. What she was, was totally, and righteously furious on Sean’s behalf.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he answered with a sigh, and by God, it annoyed her to see how accepting he was of his family’s shitty attitude. “I live with four men, and I share a woman with them, Sascha. What part of that is normal?”
“But they don’t know that, do they?”
“Well, they do about the four men part. Not sure if it’s even possible to hide Devon. Although maybe I should have tried a long while ago.”
She snorted. “Yeah. That’s not possible. His big mouth gets him into too much trouble.”
“I don’t know. He’s actually pretty good with certain stuff. It’s just a matter of whether he can understand the importance of it. Like, he would see no reason to hide why we’re all living together. What society thinks, he doesn’t give a damn about, and as living this way makes us happy, it makes even less sense to him to hide it. He only does because Sawyer would go crazy, and Devon tries not to anger him if possible.”
She pondered that a second, then murmured, “It’s kind of a nice attitude to have really, isn’t it? It cuts out all the bullshit and makes life so smooth, because if you don’t care what your peers think, then there’s no pressure save for what you put on yourself.”
Sean jerked a shoulder. “In theory, yes. That’s how it works. The reality is often much different.”
“Why? Because the reality involves you almost getting punched every time you open your damn mouth?”
Sean snickered. “Yeah. There’s a reason Devon has a Sawyer-shaped keeper.”
She grinned. “Cerberus, thy modern name is Sawyer.” A thought occurred to her, and though it was a sensitive question, she asked it anyway, “Doesn’t it offend you that they don’t support your choices?”
“Of course, it does. But hell, what can I say? They’re my family. I love them. They love me even if they don’t understand me.” His chin tilted up. “Would you tell your dad?”
“About you guys?” She pursed her lips. “I don’t know. Maybe?”
“Depending on what?”
Healed by Them: A Reverse Harem Romance (Quintessence Book 2) Page 8