Page 164 of Illusory

Someone was coming.

I didn’t have a chance to panic. With Dominic’s hand still pressed against my mouth, he pulled me off the counter and then shoved me into Trace’s arm.

Trace’s hand quickly replaced Dominic’s as he clutched me to his chest from behind and then ported us out of the kitchen, leaving Dominic standing there, smirking at me in our wake.

54. THE SWEETEST SURRENDER

My heart banged in my chest like a caged madwoman as Trace and I materialized in my bedroom, the cold barely making a dent against my overheated skin. His palm was still plastered against my mouth and my jeans were still hanging halfway down my thighs, my body frozen in the throes of an orgasm that had been so rudely ripped away.

Dazed, I raised my fingers to slowly lower his hand from my mouth as I tried to blink through the blizzard that was whiting out my mind. Somewhere in the periphery of my awareness, I could feel my thoughts trying to break through the storm, to bring sense back into my brain, but they were too weak to make it through the fog.

“Fuck, I can still taste you on my tongue,” murmured Trace near my ear, his deep voice vibrating through my veins, as though it were a tangible force, claiming everything it touched.

I nearly buckled at his words as firecrackers went off in my head, making the thickened haze swirl even faster. Grateful for the dim lighting that hid the flush staining my cheeks, my hand dropped to my jeans, pulling at the fabric as I suddenly became very aware of what I had allowed to happen—at how fast and far I had fallen. But before I could finish covering myself up, Trace stopped me.

“I’m not done,” he warned gruffly, halting my effort.

Something greedy and savage burgeoned in my chest at his words, but before I could fully process the meaning behind the traitorous reaction, the bedroom door clicked shut, drawing my attention to Dominic as he leaned his backagainst the door jamb and smirked at me like a hungry wolf eyeing its cornered prey.

“As you were, birthday girl,” he said, wetting his lips like he wanted to see more. Like we were going to dive right back into where we’d left off in the kitchen.

Trace’s hand began moving again, skimming down my abdomen as panic seeped into my chest like blood on an oil painting.

“Wait,” I hissed weakly, not entirely sure what I was going to say next but feeling like I needed to saysomething.

I vaguely remembered some bit about needing to be the levelheaded one.

“We’ve waited long enough, angel,” informed Dominic as he ran his hand along his smooth jaw, his eyes fixed on Trace’s hand splayed against my stomach, as if willing it to move again. “Tonight, we play,” he said, his voice a promise of rapture.

My pulse pounded wildly in my ears then but for completely different reasons. The plural implication of his statement was still boomeranging through my head as Trace’s hand continued its trek down my stomach, his nose grazing along the shell of my ear to the base of my neck as his hand dipped all the way past my abdomen.

Sparks of heat crackled over my body as the pads of his fingers glided over my center, gently touching and rubbing, as if to ease me back in. Groaning against my neck, his fingers picked up speed, swirling in a circular motion as he slowly increased the pressure, and suddenly the room was melting around me, everything coming in and out of focus until all I could feel were his fingers on me, his hard body pressed up behind me, his breath fanning over my skin as he placed open-mouthed kisses down the side of my throat.

“We’re going to take such good care of you tonight. Makeyou feel so fucking good,” he promised, his voice so thick in my ear that it made my legs feel heavy and boneless all at once.

A dozen different thoughts rushed through my mind at once, each one more scandalous than the last and making my skin burn like wildfire. What exactly did they think was going to happen here tonight?

Judging from my current position, I had some guesses, but they only made the fire inside rage harder as I wondered just how far they were going to take this thing, and more importantly, whether I was going to let them?

“You want that, don’t you?” he asked as slid his finger inside me again, ripping a desperate cry from my lips.

Apparently, I was, in fact, going to let them.

There was no use in denying what my body was already telling him. It would have been a lie, and we’d all know it.

Still, a small part of my mind—like, a very miniscule part—knew this was a dangerous game we were playing, a game I wasn’t sure either one of us would recover from come tomorrow, and I would’ve told him as much had his finger and thumb not been doing crazy things that made my breath come out in short, needy bursts.

I couldn’t think straight when he was touching me the way he was. Working me like he knew just where and how I liked it. Like he could feel and hear my body’s every need, listening in as I reacted to the slightest shift in tempo or pressure. Like he had beenmadeto make me feel good.

A rumble from deep inside his chest vibrated against my back, making my stomach tighten as I sank deeper into the storm that was rapidly consuming me. I veered my gaze back to Dominic, hoping I’d find something to anchor myself to. Something to snap me out of this mad dash to our ruin.

His dark eyes flicked up to meet mine, watching as Iwrithed with pleasure in Trace’s arms—at his hands. I didn’t need to imagine what he was thinking. His hungry eyes and the quick rise and fall of his chest were already telling me everything I needed to know: He liked watching me like this.

He liked it a lot.

It was clear to me then that they both wanted this—wanted me—and, lord help me, despite all consequence and reason, I wanted this too. I wanted it so badly that it hurt.

“Say it, Jemma,” said Trace, his voice a husky demand in my ear. “Say it out loud. I need to hear you say how much you want this,” he said, his fingers moving almost as fast as the room was spinning.

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