Now, breathing in the sweet scents, I was doubly glad I'd lit the candles ahead of time. Grant or Adrian usually did the task, but now they wouldn't have to waste precious seconds doing so. Seconds when they could be taking steps to satisfy my desperate longing.
While they flung the last of their clothes off, I addressed both of them at once.
"I'm not going to lie. I'm a little too...too worked up right now to wait very long. I want you both to take me. I want you both to make love to me, one right after the other. Grant, you first, since you got here first. And during...during, Adrian, I want you to touch me. Maybe my breasts, and my stomach, and...maybe even more sensitive areas."
I had a tendency to be a little take-charge and bossy in the bedroom, and I knew it. But as Grant and Adrian never seemed to mind, and in fact, even seemed to enjoy it at times, I didn't care and never saw any reason to change my possibly-somewhat-demanding ways. However, Grant, now completely naked, seemed like he wasn't going to stand for them tonight.
With candlelight illuminating his long, muscular body and his fully erect manhood, he shook his head, then climbed into bed beside me and spoke in a low, husky voice. "Normally, I love your little directives and suggestions. It's a turn-on. But tonight, you don't get to have everything your way. Tonight, you're not in charge. I am. I'll be calling all the shots. And if you have a problem with this, now would be the time to say so."
As long as he was soon going to make love to me, I didn't have a problem with anything. And just judging by how large and stiff his erection had become, I didn't think I'd have to wait long for my satisfaction. I knew Grant was just as hungry and desperate for release as I was.
I gave my head a little shake. "I don't have a problem with you taking charge." Pausing, I chose my next words carefully. "As long as you know what you're doing."
I'd teased Grant like this a few times before, and I was always pretty pleased with his reaction. Which was invariably a low growl rumbling deep in his chest followed by a sharp swat to my rear. This time was no exception.
Growling, he pulled me close, hiked my leg up on his hip, and delivered one very sharp, stinging swat to my left rear cheek. "Naughty little thing."
I sighed with pleasure, the sound tapering off into a whimper. He had no idea just how "naughty" I was beginning to feel. His little chastisement and display of masculinity had only intensified my desire. As had the feel of his rock-hard shaft bumping against my feminine parts when he'd hiked my leg up on his hip.
"Grant, please. Make love to me now. Be in charge or do whatever you want, but please. Just take me now."
He suddenly released me and rolled me onto my back. "No. I'll take you when I'm ready to."
Adrian had finished undressing and crawled into bed beside me.
With his pale blue eyes glinting in the candlelight, Grant looked over me to him. "Pin her wrists up above her head. And don't let them go."
Within half a second, Adrian had done just that. I didn't protest, because for one thing, I figured Grant was finally about to make love to me. For another thing, I figured that it was only fair to let him call the shots for one night.
I had to admit, having my wrists pinned up above my head, rendering me pretty helpless and immobile, felt deliciously good for some reason. Even while at the same time, I already had an urge to struggle to break free.
At any rate, I was going to go along with whatever Grant had in mind, and I wasn't going to ask for my wrists to be unpinned. I couldn't promise, even to myself, that I wasn't going to try to struggle, though. Especially if Grant didn't proceed to make love to me within seconds. The ache low in my belly was becoming almost unbearable. The desperation and need was beginning to feel like some wild, living thing taking over my body.
To my great relief, Grant began moving from beside me to between my legs. At the same time, Adrian rose up on his knees beside me in order to pin my wrists up better. However, my relief and expectation of impending release soon turned to disappointment. Instead of immediately climbing on top of me like I'd thought he would, Grant stretched out more or less on his stomach on the enormous bed, hooked his well-muscled arms around my rear and legs, and began planting soft, slow kisses along my inner thighs.
That was fine. I knew where Grant was headed. Release by way of pleasure from his mouth would be just fine. I just needed release, period. Especially since the erotic sight of Adrian's rock-hard manhood bobbing mere inches away from my face was now making me pant with desire. With complete and total desperation on a level I'd never experienced before.
Lifting my hips a bit, I glanced from Adrian's long, thick shaft to Grant's dark-haired head between my thighs. "Please, Grant. Now."
He completely disregarded me. He actually slowed the pace of his kisses to my inner thighs, if anything. He certainly didn't seem to be making a beeline to the place where I really wanted to feel his mouth.
Reflexively, I went to move my hands to take him by the head to try to move his face. But, of course, I found I couldn't move my hands or arms. Adrian still had my wrists pinned above my head, and firmly, too.
I gave my wrists a good tug, miles beyond frustrated and irritated. "Damn you, Adrian. Damn you too, Grant. It's obvious the two of you are intent on playing some sort of little game to torture me. Well, screw both of you." Thinking about my last statement, I paused. "But except, 'screw both of you,' I wish. Just a wish, since the two of you don't seem to want to make that a reality."
I gave my wrists another good tug, but Adrian held them fast. It didn't occur to me to demand that my wrists be released. If I had, Adrian would have likely done it. But my senses and wits seemed to have completely left me several minutes earlier. I was so frustrated with desire that I could barely remember my two torturers' names at that point, let alone recall the fact that my wrists were only pinned up because I hadn't said that I wished otherwise.
Still struggling to free them, without even a millimeter of success, I spread my legs a bit wider, encouraging Grant, who was still planting kisses along my legs and inner thighs, to do the right thing. The compassionate thing. "Please, Grant. Don't be cruel. Please."
To my surprise -- my shock, really, he immediately lifted his face and began stroking my most sensitive spot with a single fingertip, his gaze locked on my feminine parts.
Crying out, I ground my head back into the pillows while lifting my hips at the same time. "Yes. Oh, please, yes. Please don't stop."
To my horror, after a few more quick strokes, he did. And went right back to planting slow kisses along my inner thighs.
Gasping with indignation, I lifted my head to look down at him. "You sonofabitch. How dare you? How...how goddamned dare you."
Adrian actually had the nerve to chuckle.
After raking his tongue along the length of my inner thigh, making me shudder, Grant lifted his face, looked at me, and spoke in a voice thick and husky. "I have to say, Lila, your swearing is really getting a bit out of control lately. Do it again, and I'll give your beautiful little fanny another good swat. That’s not any kind of a threat. That's a promise."
Trembling with frustration and indignation, I scoffed. "Guess what, Grant? I'm a grown woman and I can do whatever the hell I want. I can swear however the hell much I want. And if you think you can stop me, then goddamn you."
"Hell, hell, and a goddamn. That was three, if I'm not mistaken."
So swiftly I barely even had time to blink, he turned my hips, revealing my right rear cheek, and gave it three swift, stinging swats in rapid succession.
I sighed, my sensitive feminine bud now throbbing. "Goddamn you, Grant. Goddamn you to hell."
"Two goddamns and a hell. Coming right up."
He immediately turned my hips again, and this time, delivered three sharp swats to my left cheek, making it and all my other lower area parts tingle in the most exquisite way. I sighed again but didn't speak. I was having a hard time thinking of words. I was beginning to feel as if I were losing the ability to form i
ntelligible speech,a or have any coherent thoughts.
With his icy blue eyes glassy in the candlelight, Grant looked up at me and spoke in a husky whisper. "Have the urge to say any more swear words?"
"Grant. I'm begging...." Head swimming, I struggled to finish the thought. "I'm begging you."
Squirming, I could feel that my feminine lips were swollen and positively drenched in slickness.
With a low growl rumbling in his broad chest, Grant appeared to think for a long moment before speaking again. "Guess we can't have such a gorgeous girl literally begging."
Making a sound like something between a sigh of relief and a moan, I dropped my head back on the soft, satiny pillows, miles beyond ready for whatever was about to happen next. Miles beyond ready for whatever way Grant was finally about to give me pleasure.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The bedroom had become filled with the sweet scents of cinnamon and vanilla from the tall red pillar candles on the dresser, though I hardly even noticed. I was far too focused on what Grant was going to do next, how he was finally going to give me pleasure and release. A bomb could have gone off in the room and I probably wouldn't have noticed.
After running his tongue along the inside of my left thigh, making me tremble in anticipation, he finally, finally, finally moved his mouth inward, to the aching, throbbing source of my need. The moment his tongue made contact with my sensitive little bud, I ground my head back into the pillows, moaning. The sensation of finally getting the satisfaction I craved was almost more than I could take.
While I writhed and twisted, my wrists still pinned up above my head by Adrian, Grant began stroking his tongue over my most sensitive spot, cradling my hips in his muscular arms while he did so. Cradling my hips and pulling them toward him, possessively. It struck me that maybe I hadn't been the only one who'd been in a state of extreme longing and frustration. I wondered if maybe Grant was just better at hiding it or had more self-control than I did. He seemed to me like a starved man who'd just tucked into a feast.
While Grant continued to make me squirm and moan with gentle-yet-firm strokes of his tongue, Adrian remained on his knees beside me, continuing to hold my wrists pinned up above my head. He watched my face, seeming intent on studying my different expressions as I became further and further lost in pleasure.
Periodically, he glanced over at the action that was going on down at my hips, his breathing becoming increasingly fast and ragged. After a short while, he began almost imperceptibly rocking his hips, ever-so-subtly thrusting his long, hard shaft closer and closer to my face. The sight of it intensified my pleasure. And because my head was propped up on a stack of pillows, it was almost flush with my mouth, and this fact wasn't lost on me.
Well beyond the point of any self-consciousness, and before I could even really think about what I was doing, I flicked out my tongue and gave the thick head of Adrian's manhood a quick little lick. He groaned and moved it even a bit closer to my face, and I did it again. Then, immediately, while a low growl rumbled deep in Adrian's chest, I took the head of his manhood into my mouth, whimpering with pleasure while Grant continued raking his tongue across my throbbing feminine bud a little further down the bed.
Adrian made a noise that could only be described as a strangled groan. I took it that he liked the feel and sight of the head of his rod in my mouth. He began rocking his hips a little more unreservedly than he had before, urging me to take maybe just an inch or two of his long granite-hard shaft into my mouth, which I did, tentatively at first, and then with a little more enthusiasm, moaning.
Though I hadn't been a virgin upon my arrival to Sun Creek, I certainly hadn't been extremely experienced when it came to physical intimacy, either, and I'd never pleasured a man with my mouth or tongue before. This was my first time. I didn't quite know what to expect. The idea of the act had always turned me on, though I knew that ideas and actual acts could be two entirely different things. However, maybe somewhat to my surprise, I now found that I enjoyed pleasuring a man with my mouth. A lot.
Adrian began working an inch or two of his manhood in and out of my mouth, groaning, seeming to instinctively realize that while I got used to this new experience of pleasuring him with my mouth, maybe that depth of penetration was best. Meanwhile, Grant seemed to realize what was going on and paused in his task down below.
Disappointed, and that was putting it mildly, because I'd felt my pleasure beginning to near a peak, I whimpered, though I couldn't really look at Grant, because I was a little too engaged in my own little task.
Within seconds, my disappointment that he'd stopped turned to ecstasy when I felt him rest some of his weight on me, positioning the head of his shaft at my slick entrance. He slid into me with one fast, powerful thrust, making me moan loudly even with Adrian's thick shaft still in my mouth.
After that, time seemed to slow down, or speed up, or do something else funny, as it seemed to do whenever I was extremely angry or extremely lost in pleasure. It may as well have ceased to exist.
The only thing that existed was the feel of Adrian's velvety-soft, yet rock-hard at the same time, manhood in my mouth. The only thing that existed was the sensation of Grant's thick rod sliding in and out of my slickness while his large hands traced a trail of heat from my breasts down to my hips.
The only thing that was in my conscious mind was the totality of the physical pleasure I was sharing with Adrian and Grant. Physical pleasure that was being infinitely intensified by the fact that Adrian still had my wrists pinned up, preventing me from moving my hands. I felt powerless against the pleasure that was lifting me toward rapture. For some reason, that was the most rapturous feeling of all.
Grant began grunting his climax mere seconds after I began bucking my hips with my own. Not long after our ecstasy was complete, Adrian finally released my wrists and pulled me on top of him. I rode him to another powerful climax while Grant looked on, already becoming hard again, his focus seeming to be on my bouncing breasts.
The fact that shifters possessed increased sexual appetite and stamina was pretty evident. Once Adrian had growled his climax, Grant took me from behind, bringing me to the heights of rapture yet again with deep, powerful thrusts while periodically using a hand to lightly squeeze my stiffened nipples.
I fell asleep that night snuggled in the middle of a Grant-and-Adrian sandwich. A breeze just faintly scented with the first changing leaves of early fall wafted in through a cracked window. I slept like the dead, waking only once, briefly, before immediately going back to sleep, feeling two sets of strong arms around me.
When I woke up late the next morning, I was alone. Shafts of bright sunlight slanted across the bed, highlighting the spots where Grant and Adrian had slept the night before.
I didn't see either of them all day. They were both busy dealing with the disposal of the wolf carcasses from the night before, in addition to running patrols with Grant's men and meeting with some of his advisors.
All afternoon and early evening, Fiona and I looked after Samuel's young boys, Brandon and Martin They were high-energy boys who needed lots of looking after and redirection, and I was glad of it.
They distracted me from wondering if and when Grant was going to talk to me about what had happened with the wolves the night before, specifically what had happened with the wolves and me. Me and my stupid choice to get out of the truck in a blind rage.
That evening, I volunteered to help Mil fix dinner, which I would have done anyway, but truth be told, I was somewhat eager for any information about Grant and his anger level as well.
I wasn't foolish enough to think that our marathon lovemaking session the night before had erased all traces of his anger. Or even any of it. Which made me nervous. I felt like the more time that passed, and the longer he had to stew, his anger at me might actually grow. Which might eventually cause him to turn away from me.
That was one thing I knew I just wouldn't be able to take. Him expressing his anger at me, yes. Him maybe eve
n raising his voice at me, yes. But him turning away from me and going back to the same level of emotional coldness that he'd displayed before revealing that he and his men hadn't been responsible for killing Gray and Estelle, no. I couldn't go back to that.
I was also eager to find out what Grant had meant when he'd said he was grateful that fate had seen fit to give him another chance to save me from the wolves. That statement was still puzzling me, to say the least.
Additionally, I wanted to ask him what he'd meant when he'd said he did have a guilty conscience, though not because he or his people had had anything to do with Gray and Estelle's murders. That statement absolutely baffled me. If he really hadn't had anything to do with the murders, which I firmly believed was true, I couldn't imagine what on earth he had to feel guilty about.
Obviously, he and I needed to talk. And soon, before my nerves got any worse. And before his anger had more of a chance to grow. In the meantime, since I had no way of knowing when he'd return to the family house, I'd try to gauge his anger level from Mil.
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