Over the Edge (Bridge #3)(33)
I paused a few paces away. The heat in his gray-eyed gaze threatened to turn me into a puddle on the floor. That and he was sexy as hell—chiseled features carved by the gods and an enviable body. I bit my lip, suddenly scared and anxious by the prospect of seeing the man totally uncovered. All the way down to the substantial erection that he was already sporting through his jeans.
“You’re trying to kill me in that dress, right?”
I laughed and smoothed my hands down the slick material. I bit my lip, imagining his hands on me instead, the way they had been earlier. He’d barely left an inch of my sparsely clothed body untouched at his father’s studio. I hadn’t wanted him to stop, but he seemed to possess more willpower than I had.
“You look nervous.” His voice was low, as dangerous as his lascivious gaze.
I stared down at the floor, gathering my courage. “Guilty as charged.”
“You have nothing to be nervous about. You’ve got both of us by the balls, Liv. Enjoy it.”
He motioned me to come closer, and that small vote of confidence spurred me forward until I stood between his thighs. He gazed up at me, his jaw set tight. His tongue traveled along his lower lip as he drank me in.
“That first night, I heard you coming all night. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t think straight. I’d wanted you before, but that’s when I knew I had to have you.”
My heart hammered, and my nipples beaded under the dress. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the way he touched me at the studio hours before. I was on fire for the man, and nothing could soothe me except having his hands on me again.
“Touch me…please.” I was desperate for it.
He bent forward, bringing his palms to my knees and moving them slowly up my thighs and under my dress. He circled around to my ass, teasing the skin under the hem of my panties. Heat arrowed to my *, where I wanted contact more than anything.
He brought his lips along my thigh where the slit didn’t cover and teased a little circle around that small bit of flesh with his tongue. I grabbed his shoulder for leverage, sensing my knees might not hold out.
He stood abruptly, tugged off his shirt, and reached for me. Pushing the straps of my dress down, he devastated my mouth with a ravaging kiss. The lust and longing I’d felt before seemed so small compared to the sensations racking my body now.
My dress fell to the floor, and our flesh came together. Finally, skin against skin. He was scorching, his beautiful dark skin taut over slabs of hard muscle.
“I’ve wanted you for too long. More than you know,” he rasped.
He dropped back onto the couch, bringing me with him so I straddled his thighs. The friction of denim against my skin heightened my need.
“What about Will? How does this work?” I whispered, suddenly aware of Will’s extended absence from the room.
“Will calls the shots. And I do whatever the f*ck I want in the meantime. Right now, I want your mouth on me, Liv.”
On cue, I separated from his mouth and trailed my lips down his neck. He smelled spicy, like smoke and musk. I sucked at his skin, marveling at his taste, and worked my way down.
I curved my palm over his broad shoulder and then down his rib cage to his narrows hips. I brought my knees to the floor between his muscular thighs and trailed my lips and tongue along his tattoo, half expecting it to taste different than the rest of him. The pattern of geometric shapes created an ornate mosaic that stretched over his pectoral and around his torso. It was deep reds, oranges, and purples—colors that reminded me of pain, but set together, created a breathtaking design.
I rubbed his erection through his jeans. He hissed between his teeth, and his gaze turned molten. Grabbing my hair, he angled me up. He leaned in like he was going to kiss me again, but instead hovered there, a breath away. He worked the button and zipper on his jeans and freed his thick cock.
“Is this what you want?”
I whimpered in reply. Of course I had to pick two enormously endowed men to take to bed at once. I tried not to think about how I could possibly please them both. Ian’s scent, the silky head of his cock teasing my lips, and his possessive hold on me had my head spinning with desire. Arousal pooled between my legs as I shifted my thighs against each other. Every sensation was on high alert.
“I want to know what you taste like,” I whispered.
He loosened his hold on me, allowing me to take him into my mouth as far as I could. His deep moan filled me with satisfaction. I twirled my tongue around the head of his cock and then lowered down his impressive length, each time trying to take more of him than I had before. I inhaled through my nose, taking in the scent of him. His breathing was uneven, and his fist tightened and released around my hair when I sucked him harder. I reveled in the little signs of his undoing, reminding me that even though I was on my knees, I had power too.
The sound of bare feet shuffled behind me. Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw Will drop into the leather chair adjacent to the couch. I closed my eyes, wanting to stay focused on Ian’s pleasure and not think too much about having an audience. Except when I did, the ache in my core became painfully acute. I sped up my strokes.
Finally, Will’s voice cut through the room. “Olivia.” That single word demanded all of my attention.
I let Ian’s cock slip from my mouth and looked to Will. He flicked a finger, motioning me toward him. I looked up to Ian’s flushed face, his full lips parted through ragged breaths.