“Your ass was made for riding cock, sugar. Feels good, don’t it? Bet your pussy is sopping wet, soakin’ Catman like you wouldn’t believe.” His chuckle brushed her ear when she whimpered. “Yeah, I imagine it is. Look at him, darlin’. How he’s struggling for control, praying he won’t blow too soon.”
She stared at Griff, mesmerized by the tortured bliss tightening his features.
“Tell her, Catman. Tell her how that snug pussy feels like fucking wet silk.”
Griff’s eyelids fell to half mast and his jaw clenched, not quite defeating his broken groan. His stroke faltered for a second before he thrust deeper. “Jesus. Yes, the wettest silk.” He kissed her, his mouth sliding to her collarbone. “You feel amazing, baby.”
With that declaration made, they set about driving her out of her ever-lovin’ mind. Two sets of mouths and hands skated across her skin, pushing her higher and higher toward the ultimate peak. Between Griff worshipping her breasts while Logan bit the nape of her neck and rubbed her clit, she was strung tight, on the verge of snapping. “I—I can’t take it. Please…”
“You ready, sugar?” Logan’s growl rumbled near her ear, the pad of his thumb rolling in tight little circles. “Your clit’s so swollen, it’s about ready to burst. Take us with you. Milk the come right out of us.”
Griff clutched her hips, leveraging himself for maximum thrust power. His entire body glimmered with sweat, and his eyes glowed with an intensity that locked her into his gaze. Logan’s words were pure aphrodisiac, but if anyone possessed the ability to mentally will her into combustible orgasm, it was Griff.
Everything exploded at once. Their orgasms. Her body. The light fixtures hanging above them. She screamed, and incandescent pink sparkles showered from her pores, dancing and twirling around them. Yeah, she should probably be freaked out about that. But weathering through the most earth-shattering climax of her life took up pretty much all her energy. Literally. By the time the last current ebbed through her body she felt utterly drained. She slumped against Logan’s damp chest, surprised when she didn’t melt to the floor in a puddle of goo.
For several minutes the only sound was the raggedness of their breathing. Logan was the first to speak. “Damn, any more fantasies we can help you with?”
“I’m not sure I could live through another.” She gave a weak giggle. “Plus I’m not sure how we’d all fit on the riding lawnmower.”
Jemma remained in a drowsy state while Griffin gently refastened the ties on her sundress. He scooped her into his arms, and she murmured in contentment before letting out a loud snore.
A chuckle came from Logan. “Poor thing’s tuckered out.”
Griffin smoothed a lock of Jemma’s hair behind her ear and glanced at Logan. “Getting your magic amped to full blast tends to do that.”
Logan fastened the fly of his jeans and sat on one of the dining room chairs to tug on his boots. “I’d like to think we might have been a bit of the cause too.”
Despite the fact his muscles were starting to protest at Jemma’s deadweight, Griffin didn’t budge from where he stood. He wasn’t going anywhere until he got this difficult subject out of the way. “I appreciate the part you played in restoring Jemma’s magic—”
“But three’s a crowd,” Logan broke in, nodding. “No problem, Catman. Contrary to popular belief, coming between two lovebirds isn’t my chosen kink.” He let slip an unrestrained grin. “Except in the literal sense.”
Griffin grimaced, both at the image fostered by Logan’s quip and the fact that the werewolf had misunderstood the direction of the conversation. Which would make spitting out the remainder of it awkward. “I want you to watch over Jemma after I’m gone.”
Logan jerked his head up, his expression suitably stunned. “Care to run that by me again?”
Griffin gritted his teeth. “Look, I know it makes no sense—hell, I can’t even figure it out—but Jemma seems to like you. And despite what a world-class asshole you tend to be, I know you’ll protect her.”
His eyes gleaming with consideration, Logan leaned back in his chair. “Isn’t that supposed to be your job?”
Not anymore. The thought sent a sharp pain stabbing through his heart and turned his gut into a pit of emptiness. “They’re sending me back when this is all done with.” He easily read the unspoken question in Logan’s gaze. “I broke the number-one rule, and now they’re going to make an example of me.”
A low whistle came from Logan. “Pretty stiff punishment.” His attention fell to Jemma’s sleeping form. “Does she know?”
“No, and I don’t want her to. She has enough to deal with right now.”
Logan scratched the back of his neck. “Still think you should tell her. Women can be mighty bitchy about being left in the dark about shit like this.”
The last thing he wanted to do was dwell on the indisputable truth in that statement. “Are you going to fucking do what I asked or not?”
Logan held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Don’t get your whiskers in a twist. Of course I’ll do it.”
“Good.” After biting out his terse reply, he stalked from the kitchen.
Upstairs, he settled Jemma into the massive canopy bed and started to pull the coverlet around her. Her eyelashes fluttered before she cracked a huge yawn, making him smile. “Morning, baby.”
She blinked, her eyes widening. “Morning? How long have I been out?” She started to tussle with the coverlet and he laughed. Shifting her focus to the approaching dusk outside the window, then to the clock on the nightstand, she groaned and relinquished her battle with the bedcovers. “I can’t believe I fell for that.”
“Couldn’t resist.” He brushed their noses together before sitting back on the mattress. “Why don’t you try to get some more rest? I think you need it after earlier.”
A hint of worry crept into her expression. “Sh—should we talk about that? I feel kind of weird about what happened.”
He groaned at his lack of foresight. “Damn, I’m sorry, baby. I should have prepared you for what to expect when your magic broke through its seal. I know it probably scared you, but I promise there’s nothing—”
“Uh, Griff? I wasn’t referring to the light show.” She twined their fingers together, her thumb brushing his palm. “I’m talking about you, me and Logan. Having sex.”
The distracting circles she was sketching into his palm made it difficult to concentrate. “I don’t understand. You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”
Her cheeks flamed a bright, scarlet hue. “Okay, I’m not going to lie. I did. Obviously.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
She leaned up on her elbows and gaped at him. “You’re being unreasonably…reasonable.”
He stroked the side of her face. “I was able to give you your fantasy. That’s all that matters.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re referring to something other than you, me, and some hot tool-belt sex?” Frown lines marred her forehead. “Did you think Logan was a part of my fantasy?”
It would have been easier not to come clean. Cowardly, but easier. “Jemma, I saw what you were imagining yesterday when I was buried inside you.” Despite the guilt of his admission, arousal flared to life at the memory of the tantalizing imagery that’d played out in her mind while her ass hugged tight around his cock.
He suddenly became aware of the thick silence that’d descended and he glanced at Jemma. Her face was a frozen mask of disbelief. Renewed guilt gnawed at him. “It was wrong of me to peek at your innermost thoughts. I’ve never done it before and I swear to you it’ll never happen again.”