by Jodi Redford
Griff practically wrenched himself from her mouth as he dove for the V of her thighs. Like a man possessed, he devoured her clit while Logan’s finger pumped inside her. Their sensual onslaught tripped her over the edge and she cried out, her body shaking from the intensity of the climax crashing over her. The aftermath left her dazed and not entirely sure if she’d just died from orgasm overload. Head spinning, she stared at the fluorescent tube lights spitting and flickering like crazy above her. Fingers brushed the hair away from her forehead, and the hazy outline of Griff’s face swam into focus. “Jem, did you see that? You almost smoked the lights.”
She blinked at the unrestrained excitement in his voice. “I did?”
“Yes, baby. Clarissa was right.” He scooped her into his arms, his smile so beautiful it almost made her cry. His lips met hers in a tender kiss before he pulled back and caressed her cheek. “This is proof we can unlock your magic. If you let us.” Griff’s free hand drifted down her collarbone and lower. His thumb played over her nipple, and the tingles started all over again. Logan cupped her other breast, and she met his hot gaze, her pulse dancing a Rumba.
She licked her lips, and he leaned in to kiss her. Like Griff, she could taste herself on his tongue. “Oh God.”
Logan growled against her mouth. “Please let there be a supply of lube somewhere in this fantasy.”
“Beneath the register.”
Both Logan and Griff gaped at her.
“What?” She wrinkled her nose. “Being prepared is sexy.”
Logan shot her a grin before leaping around the corner of the counter. He gave a triumphant howl and held up a tube of K-Y Jelly like it was the most exciting discovery since King Tut’s tomb. His eyes dark and filled with a purposeful gleam, he joined Griff in front of her and flicked the cap open on the lube. She bit her lip, uncertainty duking it out with the surge of raw desire pumping through her bloodstream. This was a huge step beyond Griff and the vibrator. Adding Logan to the equation would complicate things, regardless of their motives for including him.
“Remember what I said about thinking too much, sugar?”
She stared up at Logan and became lost in those amber irises. “I—I need to just feel—” She broke off on a gasp when Logan’s hand slipped between her legs and grazed over her sex. His skilled fingers circled her clit and she whimpered. Okay, he definitely had a point. Her thighs parted slightly and Griff’s hand caressed over her mound, inches away from where Logan was working his magic. She shivered beneath the intensity of both their gazes.
Logan’s fingers trailed lower, dipping inside her pussy, leaving her clit in Griff’s more-than-capable hands. Being on the receiving end of all their lavish attention managed to shove her worries to the distant reaches of her mind. Lust, pure and potent, took center stage. Flattening her palms on the counter, she arched her back, moving in concert with Griff and Logan’s fingers. A sound between a hiss and a growl came from Griff, and she looked up to find him watching her with what could only be described as a primal, gonna-fuck-you-till-you-scream stare. Moisture flooded her pussy at the predatory promise in his expression. Something cool and slippery traversed along the sensitive tissue of her perineum. A silky trail of lubricant—courtesy of the tube of K-Y Logan was squeezing.
Griff leaned forward and kissed her, sucking her tongue into his mouth the exact moment Logan’s thumb slicked inside her ass. Her moan fell victim to the hot, velvety recesses of Griff’s mouth.
“You’re so warm and tight, sugar. Maybe too tight. How ’bout you give me a hand here, Catman?”
The last thing she expected was the sudden inclusion of Griff’s forefinger right beside Logan’s. Oh God. A forbidden thrill coursed through her and she shuddered. Abandoning her mouth, Griff journeyed down to her breast and lapped at her nipple. She didn’t have to worry about her lips being lonely for long. Logan offered her a lush kiss, full of wet, teasing tongue play. By the time he pulled his head back, she was breathless and desperate to be filled with something more substantial than the sets of fingers readying her. As if reading her mind, Logan reached for the lube again and squirted a healthy portion into his palm.
Griff gave her nipple a lingering lick before he scooted up to nuzzle her neck, distracting her from the intriguing sight of Logan slathering up his cock. “Baby, I can’t go along with your fantasy exactly the way that you want it. There’s no way I can watch him bury his cock in your pussy and not want to rip his face off.”
“Um…okay.” She was more than a little baffled why he thought she had a specific order of who should be where, but all that became insignificant when he nudged the head of his cock against her slit. He braced her thigh with his hand and glided deeper. She was so wet and slick he easily lodged to the hilt on one smooth thrust. “Griff.”
“I’ve got you.” He hooked her legs around his waist and lifted her, easily supporting her weight. She heard movement behind her and realized Logan was taking her place on the edge of the counter.
Holy hell, we’re really going to do this. Despite all the foreplay leading up to this moment, the realization of what they were about to do still stunned her a little bit. Nervous excitement making her dizzy, she clung to Griff. Logan gripped her waist, guiding her toward him. His shaft prodded between the cheeks of her ass, glazing her puckered opening with the lubricant he’d generously applied. He easily slipped inside the first half inch, but the angle of penetration hindered his efforts.
“Sugar, how about straddling my legs? It’ll make things easier.”
She released her hold on Griff’s waist and Logan helped her onto his lap, draping her thighs over his. The position plunged her straight onto his cock, and she gasped at the suddenness of the deep, double penetration. Griff and Logan groaned in unison. Pinned between them, she wiggled, trying to adjust to the fullness. The movement created a delicious friction that sent pleasure spiraling in dense waves. Her shuddering moan joined Griff’s and Logan’s. She was surrounded by a solid wall of muscle and heat, her senses swimming in a heady sea of sex and male musk. Logan’s palms coasted over her hips and inner thighs, creating a path of fire across her skin. She trembled, each nerve in her body exquisitely alive. They moved inside her, their cocks like twin instruments of pleasure designed perfectly for her. For this. Slick, succulent sounds of their lovemaking provided an erotic soundtrack, fueled further by Logan’s wickedly raunchy commentary.
“Your ass was made for riding cock, sugar. Feels good, don’t it? Bet your pussy is sopping wet, soakin’ Catman like you wouldn’t believe.” His chuckle brushed her ear when she whimpered. “Yeah, I imagine it is. Look at him, darlin’. How he’s struggling for control, praying he won’t blow too soon.”
She stared at Griff, mesmerized by the tortured bliss tightening his features.
“Tell her, Catman. Tell her how that snug pussy feels like fucking wet silk.”
Griff’s eyelids fell to half mast and his jaw clenched, not quite defeating his broken groan. His stroke faltered for a second before he thrust deeper. “Jesus. Yes, the wettest silk.” He kissed her, his mouth sliding to her collarbone. “You feel amazing, baby.”
With that declaration made, they set about driving her out of her ever-lovin’ mind. Two sets of mouths and hands skated across her skin, pushing her higher and higher toward the ultimate peak. Between Griff worshipping her breasts while Logan bit the nape of her neck and rubbed her clit, she was strung tight, on the verge of snapping. “I—I can’t take it. Please…”
“You ready, sugar?” Logan’s growl rumbled near her ear, the pad of his thumb rolling in tight little circles. “Your clit’s so swollen, it’s about ready to burst. Take us with you. Milk the come right out of us.”
Griff clutched her hips, leveraging himself for maximum thrust power. His entire body glimmered with sweat, and his eyes glowed with an intensity that locked her into his gaze. Logan’s words were pure aphrodisiac, but if anyone possessed the ability to mentally will her into combustible orgasm, it was Gr
iff.
Everything exploded at once. Their orgasms. Her body. The light fixtures hanging above them. She screamed, and incandescent pink sparkles showered from her pores, dancing and twirling around them. Yeah, she should probably be freaked out about that. But weathering through the most earth-shattering climax of her life took up pretty much all her energy. Literally. By the time the last current ebbed through her body she felt utterly drained. She slumped against Logan’s damp chest, surprised when she didn’t melt to the floor in a puddle of goo.
For several minutes the only sound was the raggedness of their breathing. Logan was the first to speak. “Damn, any more fantasies we can help you with?”
“I’m not sure I could live through another.” She gave a weak giggle. “Plus I’m not sure how we’d all fit on the riding lawnmower.”
Jemma remained in a drowsy state while Griffin gently refastened the ties on her sundress. He scooped her into his arms, and she murmured in contentment before letting out a loud snore.
A chuckle came from Logan. “Poor thing’s tuckered out.”
Griffin smoothed a lock of Jemma’s hair behind her ear and glanced at Logan. “Getting your magic amped to full blast tends to do that.”
Logan fastened the fly of his jeans and sat on one of the dining room chairs to tug on his boots. “I’d like to think we might have been a bit of the cause too.”
Despite the fact his muscles were starting to protest at Jemma’s deadweight, Griffin didn’t budge from where he stood. He wasn’t going anywhere until he got this difficult subject out of the way. “I appreciate the part you played in restoring Jemma’s magic—”
“But three’s a crowd,” Logan broke in, nodding. “No problem, Catman. Contrary to popular belief, coming between two lovebirds isn’t my chosen kink.” He let slip an unrestrained grin. “Except in the literal sense.”
Griffin grimaced, both at the image fostered by Logan’s quip and the fact that the werewolf had misunderstood the direction of the conversation. Which would make spitting out the remainder of it awkward. “I want you to watch over Jemma after I’m gone.”
Logan jerked his head up, his expression suitably stunned. “Care to run that by me again?”
Griffin gritted his teeth. “Look, I know it makes no sense—hell, I can’t even figure it out—but Jemma seems to like you. And despite what a world-class asshole you tend to be, I know you’ll protect her.”
His eyes gleaming with consideration, Logan leaned back in his chair. “Isn’t that supposed to be your job?”
Not anymore. The thought sent a sharp pain stabbing through his heart and turned his gut into a pit of emptiness. “They’re sending me back when this is all done with.” He easily read the unspoken question in Logan’s gaze. “I broke the number-one rule, and now they’re going to make an example of me.”
A low whistle came from Logan. “Pretty stiff punishment.” His attention fell to Jemma’s sleeping form. “Does she know?”
“No, and I don’t want her to. She has enough to deal with right now.”
Logan scratched the back of his neck. “Still think you should tell her. Women can be mighty bitchy about being left in the dark about shit like this.”
The last thing he wanted to do was dwell on the indisputable truth in that statement. “Are you going to fucking do what I asked or not?”
Logan held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Don’t get your whiskers in a twist. Of course I’ll do it.”
“Good.” After biting out his terse reply, he stalked from the kitchen.
Upstairs, he settled Jemma into the massive canopy bed and started to pull the coverlet around her. Her eyelashes fluttered before she cracked a huge yawn, making him smile. “Morning, baby.”
She blinked, her eyes widening. “Morning? How long have I been out?” She started to tussle with the coverlet and he laughed. Shifting her focus to the approaching dusk outside the window, then to the clock on the nightstand, she groaned and relinquished her battle with the bedcovers. “I can’t believe I fell for that.”
“Couldn’t resist.” He brushed their noses together before sitting back on the mattress. “Why don’t you try to get some more rest? I think you need it after earlier.”
A hint of worry crept into her expression. “Sh—should we talk about that? I feel kind of weird about what happened.”
He groaned at his lack of foresight. “Damn, I’m sorry, baby. I should have prepared you for what to expect when your magic broke through its seal. I know it probably scared you, but I promise there’s nothing—”
“Uh, Griff? I wasn’t referring to the light show.” She twined their fingers together, her thumb brushing his palm. “I’m talking about you, me and Logan. Having sex.”
The distracting circles she was sketching into his palm made it difficult to concentrate. “I don’t understand. You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”
Her cheeks flamed a bright, scarlet hue. “Okay, I’m not going to lie. I did. Obviously.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
She leaned up on her elbows and gaped at him. “You’re being unreasonably…reasonable.”
He stroked the side of her face. “I was able to give you your fantasy. That’s all that matters.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re referring to something other than you, me, and some hot tool-belt sex?” Frown lines marred her forehead. “Did you think Logan was a part of my fantasy?”
It would have been easier not to come clean. Cowardly, but easier. “Jemma, I saw what you were imagining yesterday when I was buried inside you.” Despite the guilt of his admission, arousal flared to life at the memory of the tantalizing imagery that’d played out in her mind while her ass hugged tight around his cock.
He suddenly became aware of the thick silence that’d descended and he glanced at Jemma. Her face was a frozen mask of disbelief. Renewed guilt gnawed at him. “It was wrong of me to peek at your innermost thoughts. I’ve never done it before and I swear to you it’ll never happen again.”
“You can do that?”
“Yes, because of the assigned guardianship. But because of the intimate nature of it, I’ve only used the link in extreme cases.”
“Like Uncle Harold’s zombie attack?”
He nodded. Jemma sat up, and he scooted sideways to give her more room. He detected the sound of her hard swallow and tipped her chin up, revealing the shame etched in her features. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“I wish you hadn’t seen it. The fantasy, I mean. I know it’s silly, considering we acted it out in living color.”
Shit, now he really felt like a sneaky bastard. “Jem, if I could take back what I did, I would. Please believe me.”
“I do. And I’m not mad at you. I—I just don’t want you to think that I’ve been secretly lusting after Logan. That fantasy isn’t what I really want.” She traced the line of his jaw, her eyes shimmering with moisture. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”
His chest tightened, filling with an almost painful overflow of emotions. He ached to pour out the feelings he’d been forced to padlock away all these years, but they remained hostage to the contract forbidding his verbal confession of love. He burned, shaking with the injustice of it.
“Griff, what’s—?”
He stopped her flow of words with his mouth and tongue, his fingers tangling in her hair. If he couldn’t tell Jemma, he’d show her. His body was the one thing the contract couldn’t control, and by God, he’d use it to his advantage. He nibbled and sucked his way down the arch of her neck, the sound of her breathless moans setting his blood on fire. Undoing the laces on her dress, he kissed her shoulder, following its slope with his tongue.
She sighed and reached for the neckline of her dress, helping him ease it down her torso. He kissed and suckled her breasts, drawing her nipples to stiff, hardened peaks. She tugged frantically at the waist of his jeans, and he stood just long enough to free them of their clothing before returning to his devotion of her bo
dy.
Licking over the soft swell of her belly, he ventured lower and nuzzled the downy curls covering her mound. He glanced up, ensured their gazes were locked, and licked her slowly from her clit down to her slit and back up again. He kept up his leisurely pace until she was shivering and gasping, her eyes beseeching him to take her over the edge.
And he did.
Throwing his teasing out the door, he gorged on her, his mouth and jaw voracious participants in the feast. Her sweet honey was delectable. The tiger inside him wanted to wallow in her juices, imprint his flesh with the essence of her scent so the entire world would know he belonged to her. She screamed his name as she came, her clit pulsing beneath the flattened tip of his tongue.
He reared up, settled on his haunches and thrust Jemma onto his waiting cock all in one fluid motion. She cried out, the silky warmth of her pussy rippling around him as she continued to come. He struggled to resist the lure of his own orgasm, determined to give Jemma everything that he was—heart, body and soul. Dropping onto his elbows, he took her mouth in a deep, drugging kiss. Her fingernails scored his back, and he relished the light sting.
“Yes, baby. Mark me as yours.” He shifted his hips, angling for the sweet spot that’d take her to heaven. Her litany of cries filled his ears, along with the four words guaranteed to rob him of his last thread of control.
“Griff, I love you.” Her teary eyes reflecting her declaration in watery excess, Jemma broke on a wrenching cry, her inner walls milking him with strong contractions. He shuddered, unable to hold back any longer, and pumped his seed deep inside her. An agonized roar ripped from his throat, but not the words he longed to return.
Chapter Sixteen
Going downstairs after she’d probably blasted everyone’s eardrums with her rapturous scream was more than a tad embarrassing. Of course, considering what went down in the kitchen, did it really matter? By now, everyone knew she wasn’t exactly mute during sex. Only with Griff, it went miles beyond sex. A more appropriate term would be out-of-body nuclear experience.