Hunting the Jackal (4 page)

He leaned forward, drew a line of chocolate frosting down the hollow between her breasts. “Ah, damn, I’ve got frosting on you. Rashon, can you help me out?”

“My pleasure.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Finally.

Amarie held her breath as Rashon made quick work of the few buttons that held Kurik’s shirt together across her breasts. A shiver slid down her back as the silk slid off her shoulders. For a long moment, he sat frozen, seemingly transfixed by the sight of her nipples pebbling beneath his intense gaze.

She leaned forward, offering herself to him. Spell broken, he cupped her heavy breasts in his hands, his thumbs lightly brushed over the tightened peaks. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as she moaned, a fierce and sudden pleasure spiking through her blood.

The moan sped up into a gasp as Rashon’s tongue dipped into her cleavage, lapping at the chocolate softening on her heated skin. She looked up in time to see Kurik scoop up more of the dark frosting. His eyes glinted with wicked intensity as he slowly marked both sides of her throat.

Moving together, the men pressed open-mouthed kisses to her neck, sending pulses of sensation racing to her sex. Her head fell back, giving them better access. Lost in the dual sensations of their mouths moving over her throat, she only dimly registered her shirt being removed as they gently guided her back and down amongst the pile of pillows.

They reclined beside her, each one cupping the soft globes of her breasts. “I don’t think we need chocolate here,” Rashon murmured. “She’s sweet enough as it is.”

“Yeah. So sweet.” Kurik’s hand was larger than Rashon’s but just as adept at plucking a response from her as each simultaneously tweaked her nipples before easing the double sting with warm wet sweeps of their tongues.

“Gods,” Amarie cried, back arching as pleasure spiraled through her. Her legs moved in a restless motion, her hands reaching up to splay in their hair, holding their heads in place against her. Rashon nipped at the soft underside of her breasts, a flash of pleasurable pain.

She gasped and pushed up, wanting more, needing more. Their decadent attention was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, and she reveled in it.

Kurik shifted upward, his lips grazing her throat before he claimed her mouth with a series of tantalizing kisses that made her feel drugged. Desperate to hold on, she clutched at his back, her nails meeting cotton instead of flesh. “You’re still dressed!”

He chuckled. “Pure self-defense. We want to take care of you first.”

Rashon raised his head, his dark eyes glittering with desire. “We want this to be good for you, love.”

She squirmed with pleasure at the casual way he said the endearment. Rashon had never been shy with his affections, but hearing the word now, in this context, made her heart trip over itself. “It is good,” she managed to say as he continued to stroke and kiss her skin. “Almost too good.”

Kurik grinned. “Not yet. We’ve only just begun.”

Without a word, they switched places: Rashon plundering her mouth as Kurik suckled her aching breasts. She fell into the sensual wave again, surfing on a churning tide of need, of wanting more. As if reading her mind, each other’s minds, their hands slid down her body, skating over her belly to her panties. Her stomach muscles clenched in anticipation. She didn’t have to wait long.

Rashon’s nimble fingers slipped beneath the edge of her panties and cupped her mound, fingers dipping down to her waiting clit, circling her engorged flesh with teasing strokes. When she lifted her hips in wordless response, Kurik pushed her panties down to her knees. Then his hand slid up—oh, gods, yes,
right there
—parting her slick folds and delving a finger into her core.

Shutting her eyes, she mewled in pleasure, hips lifting involuntarily in a quest for more, conscious of the dueling brands of their erections pressed against her flanks, still covered by far too much clothing. Kurik withdrew, only to slowly thrust two thick fingers into her slick passage as he continued to kiss and suckle first one breast, then the other. Her inner muscles clamped down on his fingers as she gasped against Rashon’s mouth, his tongue mimicking the strokes below.

Desire tightened inside her, a coil in need of release. The two men worked in tandem to push her further, stroke her higher. Passion swirled inside her, gathering momentum and force as unstoppable as any natural law.

With a keening cry she came, as pure pleasure assaulted her senses. Kurik withdrew but Rashon continued stroking her, stoking the fire of her desire.

She opened her eyes to find Kurik pulling his T-shirt over his head, revealing the wide expanse of his chest. As she watched, he pushed his shorts down his hips, revealing the thickness of his cock jutting from a shocking tuft of red hair. It stood proudly from his body, so engorged the foreskin was already pushed back. A whimper escaped her before she could stop it.

Rashon’s low chuckle skated over her lips. “I’ve made that same sound for the same reason,” he admitted. “You can’t help yourself.”

“I want,” she confessed, then clammed up, a flush heating her skin.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” Kurik asked.

So many ideas, images and desires flitted through her head. Some of them she wasn’t ready to give voice to. Her gaze darted to the bowl of frosting. She licked her lips. “I want to taste you,” she whispered. “I want to put frosting on you and taste you while Rashon takes me.”

“Gods.” Rashon”s hand convulsed on her breast. “That. We should do that.”

He stood, then helped her to her feet. Kurik crossed to the low-slung leather chair next to the sofa. He sprawled into it, his cock bobbing hypnotically. “Come here, sweetheart,” he purred. “Sit on my lap while we watch our man strip for us. Then you can put frosting on me.”

Unable and unwilling to resist, Amarie picked up the bowl of frosting then walked over to him, her gaze fixed on his cock. It suited him, a complement to his size and his strength. Instant uncertainty assailed her, making her wonder if she could take him, even in her mouth. If he would hurt her as her former clan had done.

“Amarie.” Understanding lit his yellow-gold eyes. “I would never hurt you. Neither will Rashon. We’ll stop whenever you want, I swear.”

She nodded. They wouldn’t hurt her, she knew that. They were stronger, an established pair in the clan. They could have forced her at any time since she’d come to live with them. Instead, they’d cared for her, nurtured her and left her freedom to choose. And with having that freedom there was only one choice to make.

She sat in Kurik’s lap, moaning at the hot hardness beneath her. He turned her, arranging her legs until the length of him molded to her slit, almost, but not quite penetrating. Moisture welled in response, coating his cock.

“Gods, you’re so hot,” Kurik whispered, his voice reverent. “Lean back against me.”

She eased against him, her body taut with nervous anticipation. The broadness of his chest braced her back, his warmth seeping into her, his cock hot and hard beneath her buttocks. She didn’t know how a man could be so calm with an erection that hard.

His arms came around her, hands skimming along the flat expanse of skin from ribs to hips. “I like the feel of you against me,” he told her, his voice low and hypnotic. “I think Rashon likes the way you look in my lap, too. Let’s show him that beautiful body of yours.”

He shifted so that her legs fell open over his, spreading her core. It put her on display in a way that should have made her uncomfortable, but didn’t. She was with the only two men she trusted besides Markus. She was safe—safe enough to submit to these men, to give and take whatever pleasure they wanted. Whatever pleasure she wanted.

She relaxed against Kurik, her hands on his muscular thighs, then looked at Rashon. His eyes glittered, his gaze fixed between their open thighs. He licked his lips, mesmerized.

“Rashon.”

Kurik’s short bark caught his attention. His gaze shifted to their faces for just a moment before dropping again. “Yes.” The word tore from him as if he’d forgotten how to speak.

“Take off your clothes. Let us see you.”

He raised his hands slowly, as if unsure what to do next. Then he reached for his shirt, ripped it off over his head. The rest of his clothes fared less well. Finally he stood in front of them, breathtakingly naked, his cock fully aroused. Hunger shone in his eyes as he stared back at them.

Amarie stared at Rashon, hyperaware of his desire, Kurik’s touch, their heat and intent. Rashon’s cock stood proud and long out from his body. As she watched, fascinated, he wrapped the fingers of his right hand around his erection, arm muscles flexing as he stroked the hard length of his flesh. Her mouth dried as she wondered if he’d feel hot and hard like Kurik did against her buttocks. He wasn’t as thick as the red-haired man, but he had slightly more length. A length he emphasized with long slow pulls of his hand, from root to tip, fist closing over the head with a twist of his wrist before sliding back down to the root.

“You’re so beautiful,” she breathed.

“Not as beautiful as you,” he whispered in a tone gone coarse with desire. “Seeing you on my mate’s lap, his hands on your skin, how you respond to his touch—that’s beautiful.”

She flushed at his praise, squirming in Kurik’s lap. He gasped, then growled, his hands digging into her hips to clamp her in place. “Easy now. I have plans for that later.”

Not needing further encouragement, Rashon dropped to his knees between their legs. Kurik pulled his fingers free of her soaking mound, and Rashon leaned forward, sucking her moisture from the other man’s fingers.

Amarie groaned. “That is so hot.”

Rashon grinned, his eyes slitted with desire. “I need more.” He leaned forward.

The first long sweep of his tongue had Amarie crying out, her hips thrusting forward in a quest for more. She slid along Kurik’s length, and the dual sensations almost overwhelmed her. Her red-haired lover groaned as Rashon dipped lower, his tongue stroking over them both. Tension coiled in her, higher and higher, desperately seeking an outlet.

“Wait,” she panted.

Both men froze. “What is it, sweetheart?”

She held up the bowl of frosting. “We forgot.”

“Not forgotten, just more focused on you.” Kurik cupped her breasts in his large palms, teasing her nipples, rolling the sensitized peaks between his fingers. She groaned, eyes sliding shut as she leaned back against him. “You sure that’s what you want?”

She blinked, startled out of her distraction. “Yes, please.”

He released her, and she slid off his lap and to her knees. In this position, she had a close-up view of Kurik’s hardness in all its glorious detail. Placing the bowl on the floor beside her, she reached up, fitting the hot shaft to her palm before curling her fingers around it.

Kurik groaned, his hips flexing so he could push his hardness through her hand. “Just a little firmer, sweetheart,” he urged.

She did as he instructed, learning what he liked. She scooped a finger’s full of frosting out of the bowl, then began to trace patterns over his skin, down the shaft, onto his balls. She loved Kurik’s chocolate cake, but she had a feeling she was going to enjoy this a whole lot more.

Satisfied with her finger painting, she leaned forward, touching her tongue to the tip of his cock, licking at the chocolate. Kurik’s hips jerked. Emboldened by his response, she used lips and tongue to lick and suck the chocolate away, taking her time from the tip of his erection down to the delicate sac at the root.

“Take him slow, baby, all the way down as far as you can,” Rashon urged her, his hand holding his cock in a death grip. “Swirl your tongue on him.”

The blunt words excited her, made her eager to obey. Kurik shuddered, his large hands fisting on his knees. “Blessed Anubis,” he groaned. “That feels good.”

Rashon stared down at her, his cock still insistent and shiny with pre-come. “Gods, I love to watch you do that,” he said, his voice guttural. “But now I need to be inside you.”

“Distract her,” Kurik gasped, threading his fingers through her hair. “I don’t know how gentle I can be.”

“Amarie.” Rashon knelt behind her, guiding the blunt head of his cock to her entrance. “Give over to us. Relax and let him guide you. We’ll make it good for you, I swear.”

Slowly he pushed into her stretching her almost to the point of pain, even with the pleasure soaking her channel. Withdrawing, he thrust deep again, once, twice, then clamped down on her hips bones with a bruising grip. “Don’t move,” Rashon ground out.

Amarie tensed. Had she done something wrong? Rashon sounded injured. “Are you all right?”

Before she could pull away, he ran a hand down her back, a slow, comforting gesture. “Yeah,” he breathed. “I was just on the verge of coming. I’d like to last more than a couple of seconds if I can. You feel so damned good.”

“Hell yeah she does,” Kurik agreed. He looked down at her, his eyes aflame. “Last time to stop. Control’s shredding by the heartbeat.”

Feeling Rashon locked deep inside her, Kurik filling her mouth, Amarie knew there was no turning back. She didn’t want to. She wanted this, wanted them. Needed them.

“Take me,” she whispered, then took Kurik’s cock deep.

Rashon set a steady, sensual pace that rocked her forward. She surrendered to the rhythm, taking as she was taken, pleasing as she was pleasured. Kurik kept up a continuous stream of guttural encouragement as he cradled her head. She enjoyed discovering him, discovering what pleased him, what drove him to the edge even as she pushed back against Rashon, meeting his thrust, reveling in the pleasurable reverberations that echoed through her body.

It was the most sensual moment of her life. Once again, she could feel tension coiling inside her, the need to come. She began to thrust back at Rashon, an unspoken demand for more. Taking Kurik deep as she could, the head of his cock at the back of her throat, she hollowed her cheeks, suctioning him.

“Gods.” Kurik’s hips jerked. “I can’t hold back for much longer.”

“Me. Either.” Rashon’s movements grew jerky as he increased his pace. His left hand slipped around her hip, fingers unerringly finding her clit. “Relax and fly free, baby,” he crooned. “Trust us to catch you.”

She could only hum in agreement as he rotated his hips, hitting all the right spots in her sensitive flesh. The sounds of their bodies slapping together echoed through the room. Impaled at both ends, feeling her men lose themselves to their passion, passion she helped generate, ignited something deep inside her. Pleasure blasted through her, her muscles spasming as she shook from the force of it.