Page 128 of Agency
“You smell so used,” Jericho said, mouth close enough that his gravel-laden words shivered my spine with their sonic intensity. He licked, and licked deep, plunging into me. “So hot and sexy andused.” He covered me with firm lips that were so hard, but so soft, and his mouth took me.
I trembled and shook.
God, I wanted this man! Wanted this man that I’d been fighting with since after our first night. Wanted him, and his friends, and everything that came along!
Wanted all three of these men!
What was wrong with me? Didn’t I know this was dangerous, that this was impossible?
But, still, I began to push back, to give him what he craved.
His hand held me in place, though. His fingers dug into my ass and I could feel the full strength of his arm bearing into me. I wasn’t going to move, no matter how much feeble strength I could muster.
He licked again as I strained. And then he was slipping his tongue inside me, sending me squirming and clawing on the cushions away from him like I’d never before squirmed and clawed, as if I were trying to burrow into the couch’s back and make my home there.
He held me fast with those big paw-like hands, though–kept me in place as he tasted me. Appreciated me. More licks, followed by appreciative noises that had me dripping wet all over again.
“Soours,” Jericho breathed between deep, soul-tonguing licks, his voice vibrating my pussy and ass with its baritone intensity. “So, completely, wonderfully ours.” And, as he finished speaking, he buried his tongue in my back side.
I couldn’t help myself.
I came.
Because he was right.
I was theirs. My God, I was theirs.
Which was why my next betrayal of them would hurt even more than the last.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Ambyr
Ipulled my coat tight against the crispness of the Minnesota night as I slipped out through the cabin door on wobbling legs–hours before we were scheduled to meet Andrew’s contact, Mack. The rest of my body thrummed with a kind of sore delight, a constant reminder of the men I was leaving behind back in the living room, still passed out.
My escape had been a walk in the park this time around. No fiddling with unlocking handcuffs. No jumping out of windows.
The only worry I had was that one of them would hear my nervous, thudding heart and wake up in time to interrupt me. But, for this attempt, I’d managed to put them all to sleep at the same time.
My stomach had been churning since I’d awoken on the couch, practically in the arms of Jericho and Andrew, and slipped back to my room. Somersaulting one way since I’d pulled on fresh underwear and dark clothes, then found my weapons. Somersaulting back the other at what I was about to do, and at the trust I was about to betray.
Because that trust was the crux ofwhytonight’s escape was so much easier. And the trust was real. But, that trust was also the crux of why I had to do things this way.
Those feelings when I’d been with all three of them… Those had been real, too. I knew the emotions swirling within me were real, and not some passing infatuation, or a simple creation of the chemicals swimming around in my bloodstream. And, even worse, I could still feel that warmth and contentment and elation warring in my gut with the other feelings of regret at what I was about to do.
Morgan might forgive me.
Andrew likely would. He’d understand, especially after I explained my reasoning to him.
But Jericho…?
I swallowed hard, desperately trying to remove the lump of guilt blocking my throat. The swallowing didn’t help, and I instead had to fight back a wave of nausea as I began to make my way across crisp, fallen foliage to Aunt Val’s Escalade.
The cabin we’d gotten was managed as part of a resort, with multiple handfuls of the structures crowded together beneath the reds, oranges, and golds of the turning leaves. Nearby was even a little gaming building, currently shuttered for the night, with vending and ice machines outside on its garishly white-lit front porch. Despite the number of nearby cabins, only one other car was parked nearby, and the interior lights of the occupied structure illuminated the windows like glaring, accusatory eyes as I slunk by in the darkness.
Every underfoot rustle of leaves was a whispered insinuation, or hushed recrimination.
“They care for you.”
