Page 32 of Reckless Abandon
Although her supine position doesn’t allow her the best access, her head against the mattress and her ass in my hands off the bed, I can still see the swallowing motion of her throat and based on the vocal reaction from Sage, it must feel fucking spectacular.
With one hand in her pussy, he cradles London head with the other to give her further leverage. When she moans around his cock, I can feel it in mine from the vibrations making their way down her body.
London’s pussy clenches around my cock and I know the minute she’s coming.
As if a chain reaction is set off from the explosion inside her body, her limbs trembling and tightening from the intense waves of pleasure, both Sage and I become completely lost in the sensations. Or at least, I do.
Sage removes his fingers and is about to swing his arm away when I grab his wrist, pulling his hand to my mouth, slipping his fingers along my tongue and then clamping around him, sucking them in deeply.
The taste and essence of London and the salty taste of Sage’s skin is all I need to push me over the edge.
The orgasm bursts unrestrained from the bottom of my toes up through my spine and back down again.
“I’m coming…fuck, I’m coming.” I throw my head back and shout.
Everything I have in me is released inside London’s pussy, as I come, and come, and come until I’ve emptied myself inside her.
She shutters again as she moans around Sage’s cock. His head tilts forward and he releases a deep, gruff noise that sounds like a wolf howling at the midnight moon.
I pull out of London, the remnants of my orgasm spilling out and filling me with a deep male pride. Sage carefully dislodges from London’s mouth and the look on his face says he’s been thoroughly pleased.
And London.
London’s golden hair fans out across the bed, her face and neck flushed from her own climaxes and the heat we made together.
She looks like a goddess.
A sated and well-used, goddamn beautiful goddess.
Our goddess. Our queen.
Chapter 20
Present Day
“When do you go out on tour again?” I ask, taking a sip of hot coffee.
The three of us sit outside on the patio watching the sun rise over the hills and valleys of Nashville, coffees in hand. We’ve been up for the last thirty minutes, still unshowered with freshly rumpled bedhead from the night before.
The night before. Holy hell was that insane.
Best night of my life.
It’s ironic to think that I’ve experienced both the worst night and the best nights of my life with London and Sage at my side.
Last night, while incredible and memorable, will be a fleeting memory all too soon. Not something meant to last before we all go back to our normal lives. Sage had mentioned earlier that he’s about to embark on a 15-city U.S. tour and London will return to her job as a social worker and I’ll go back to fighting forest fires.
For obvious reasons, the summer months are the worst and require nearly all my time and effort. When called upon, smokejumpers can be away from home between two-days or two months, depending on the severity of the fires. I’ve been assigned outside of Tennessee to assist in other national fires several times in the last four years, especially in the west. I’ve been to Montana, Colorado, and California several times, serving with my brothers and fellow smokejumpers to preserve our natural resources.
We’ll be going our separate directions in the next 24-hours and that thought grips me in the heart like a vice.
Sage runs a hand through his dark, thick hair, the edges long enough to cover the nape of his neck.
“I have a show onTuesday night in Philadelphia, then we tour around the east coast, down to Florida, and into Texas,I think.”
London makes a noise that encompasses both a sadness and a wistfulness, reaching to entwine her fingers through Sage’s. She peers up through her lashes and meets my gaze with a look of meaningful recognition to remind me of the reasons we came here in the first place.
Bending down, I place my elbows on my knees, cupping my chin in my hand.
