Songbird(30)

When she reached his belt, she left the shirt and yanked at the buckle. In a few seconds she had his fly open and she pulled impatiently at his shirt until it was free of his jeans.

Drawn to the bare expanse of skin, she placed her palms on his tight belly and let them glide upward to his chest and then to his shoulders. Inhaling, she pressed her lips to the hollow of his chest, closing her eyes as his scent filled her.

He didn’t touch her or make the effort to undress her as she did him. He seemed content to let her lead and for him to follow. Part of her wanted to tear off his and Taggert’s clothing and indulge in hot, passionate lovemaking, ending it almost before it began. She was eager to feel their hands and mouths on her body. But the other part of her wanted to savor the sweet, slow symphony, to indulge in hours and hours of exploring their bodies while they pleasured her.

She wanted it hard and fast. She wanted it hot and edgy. She wanted it long and slow. Sensual and loving. Her mind blazed with the possibilities.

“Do you want help, Emmy?”

Greer’s huskily voiced question brushed over her ears and elicited a trail of goose bumps down her back. She’d been standing here, her mouth against his skin, unmoving while she imagined the many ways she wanted to be made love to. Her lips curved into a rueful smile, and she shook her head. She wasn’t a complete coward.

Stepping away, she slid her hand down his belly, into the springy hair at his groin until her fingers circled his length. He flinched and rocked back on his heels when she went lower to cup his balls.

“Take your pants off,” she murmured, suddenly eager to see him.

His thumbs hitched into the waistband of his jeans, and he yanked. The denim gathered around his feet, leaving him deliciously exposed. Not waiting for her dictate, he shrugged out of his shirt, allowing it to fall behind him.

Her gaze was riveted to his lean hips and to the dark hair at his groin. His erection jutted outward, an invitation. She dropped to her knees and reached to circle him with both hands.

She stroked. Up and down, enjoying the way he came to life in her palms. He grew harder, pulsing over her fingers. Her tongue darted out. A taste. She wanted to taste him, to bring him the ultimate pleasure.

She circled the head, teasing, with light little licks, keeping him from the depths of her mouth. When he tensed and let out a groan, she smiled, confident in her ability to drive him wild.

“Stop teasing me, damn it,” he rasped. “Suck me, Emmy. Swallow me whole. Do something, but stop tormenting me.”

In response she took him deep. His fingers tangled roughly in her hair and he thrust forward, wanting deeper.

His taste danced on her tongue and his scent filled her nostrils. He was in her, on her, living inside her heart and soul. They were both frantic, and she didn’t know who was doing the most work. Her fingers dug into his hips as she pulled him closer. His hands twisted in her hair, holding her as he bucked against her.

And suddenly he left her. She rocked back, her hand going to the floor for balance. His harsh breathing filled her ears as he gasped for breath.

“Not yet. I don’t want it to end yet.”

She understood, and she gifted him with a wavering smile. He’d been close. She turned, wanting to find Taggert. She wanted to undress him too and run her hands and mouth over his hard body.

He was already naked, standing a few feet away, his hand coaxing his c**k to full erection. She watched in fascination as he rolled the foreskin up and down and how thick and long he looked when he pulled it all the way back.

Before she realized what she was doing, she licked her lips, and Taggert let out a harsh expletive.

“You’re killing me, Emmy. I want your mouth, baby.”

“Then come and take it,” she challenged.

He was there before she could blink. He put one hand on the top of her head to hold her in place while he positioned his c**k at her lips with his other hand.

“Open for me.”

Dutifully she complied, and he slid inside as soon as she parted her lips. He wasn’t as content as Greer to let her dictate the pace. He thrust hard and deep, and his fingers curled tighter into her hair. He released his grip on his c**k and gently touched her face, his fingers feathering over her jaw and then to her neck as he f**ked her mouth.

“If you only knew how many times I’ve seen you just like this in my fantasies.”

Greer’s voice startled her and her gaze shot sideways to see him standing there watching, his hand pumping his c**k as he watched her suck Taggert.

“On your knees. Only it’s my c**k in your mouth. Your hair streams down your back like moonlight, and you’re looking up at me with the world in your eyes. If you only knew, Emmy.”

She glanced up at Taggert to see the agreement in his expression. He thrust back and forth, his jaw clenched tight, but his gaze never left her. There was lust, but there was so much more reflected there for her to see. Love. And hope.

He rose up on tiptoe, his face creased in agony. And then, like Greer, he pulled away, leaving her gasping for breath, her body trembling with awakened passion.

Greer grasped her shoulders and lifted her to her feet. His lips came down on hers even as he walked her backward toward the bed. He pushed. She fell. He came down over her, his body covering her like a sheet of fire.

His knee wedged between her legs, pushing them apart. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. All she knew was his mouth ravaging hers, tasting her, drinking from her. He settled between her thighs, his c**k nudging impatiently at her opening.