Reawakening (21 page)

It made it simple for her to bring up something that was currently bobbing around in her mind.

“You know it’s weird. I always thought you’d be the one who’d have done something like this before.”

She didn’t say it to anyone in particular, but it was clear they both knew who she was talking about. Blake looked up at her, suddenly—not prickly as she had expected, but open and full of something she couldn’t place.

Like maybe he wanted to share things and she just hadn’t asked.

“I haven’t.” He paused, seemed to consider. “All right—with two girls, yeah. Not, you know—
your turn.”

She liked the way he said
your turn
. Eyes going big, too much emphasis on it. He was funny, when he wanted to be.

“Whoa whoa—hang on a second. What’s that supposed to mean?
You’d be the one
. You think I’m not sophisticated and cosmopolitan enough to get involved in a ménage? Because you’d be right but that’s not the fucking point. I’m offended.”

Jamie absolutely was not offended. But he did the best fake hurt she’d ever seen. It deserved a little fake soothing.

“Don’t be offended. You’re very cosmopolitan and ménage-y. Why—I just look at you and want to have group sex immediately.”

His eyes went soft then, and she wondered. Yeah, she wondered all right. Had there really been some offence behind those words that she just wasn’t seeing? Just a little touch of it, maybe?

“You’re a tease, June-y,” he said, and he sounded so…rueful. So something. It made her want to really soothe, the way he had with his hand in her hair.

“I would be, I guess, if I wasn’t deadly serious. You make me think about all kinds of sex things, whenever I look at you. Both of you do, in fact. I mean—you do both know that you’re really hot, right?”

The expression on Jamie’s face said no. No—in fact he’d never considered that little factoid. Probably not even when in bed with an actual woman who was telling him to his face that he could make her panties drop from twenty paces.

“Call me hot again. I might come if you say it just right,” Blake said, even though his expression told her he had been aware of that little factoid and more factoids beside it. Or at least, other people had made him aware of it before all of this mess happened and his ego got crushed beneath the weight of a billion zombies.

Jamie, on the other hand…

“I think I’m already coming,” he said, which gave her no end of gleeful pleasure. Oh they were both just so…just so…gah, she didn’t even have words for what they were.

“I really hope not because I need to have sex with you immediately. Like now, before I feel too awkward or sleepy or weird about the whole thing again.”

His eyes lit up like a pinball machine but he still insisted.

“Believe me, I’m getting to it. But Blake first, okay?”

As though there was some kind of actual bowling etiquette involved in all of this, that she just wasn’t privy to. Last time, Jamie had got to put his fingers in the good ball. This time, Blake got to do it.

Something like that—though obviously less about balls.

“Don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous about sex before. Weird, huh?” Blake asked, but she couldn’t say what she wanted to. She couldn’t say
no, it’s totally not
. Because it was—and especially when he got close real suddenly and put a hand on something as intimate as her right breast.

Though oddly, his doing so didn’t feel mechanical. Or at least, not as mechanical as it kind of looked. And it wasn’t by the numbers when he actually asked if he could kiss her first either.

It just seemed…courtly. Sweet.

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” she said, then his mouth was on hers all soft and tentative.

Though it quickly progressed to firm and insistent. She felt his tongue slide over hers, quick and darting instead of the hot, wet stroke that Jamie’s was, and she shivered all over to think he’d dared. That barrier was coming down again and whatever person he’d been before—the one who could happily have a threesome with two babes and maybe not blink an eye—came forward a little more.

That person had charm and confidence and he was good at it. He was good at kissing, and he had a nice way of moving on from her mouth to all kinds of sweet spots along her jaw and down over her throat, and she liked him just as much as the blown-out Blake he’d been before—if not more so.

This Blake grinned and ate Twizzlers and didn’t try to hide how aroused he was. Instead, he rubbed the evidence of such against her thigh and let her feel how hard she’d made him, how slippery at the tip.

Then he progressed, quite suddenly, to sliding that same evidence through the folds of her sex.

He just moved a little to the left, found his way between her legs, and there it was. A hot, thick bar, pressing over her clit and rubbing slickly through her slit and Lord, it felt like heaven. The swollen head of his prick caught her in exactly the right place—just on the already blooming underside of her bud, and she simply had to let out a little startled sound.

Though she absolutely knew that when Jamie said
oh man, does that feel good?
He wasn’t talking to her. In all likelihood, he knew that it felt good for her. She had, after all, just gasped like a frightened old maid. Hell—he probably knew that it definitely felt good for Blake, too, because Blake had kind of stuck his tongue up into the corner of his mouth and his eyes had fluttered closed and when she turned her head a little to the side, she could see him grasping and grasping at the sheets.

No, what Jamie wanted was clear. He wanted Blake to
describe
the goodness.

And even weirder, Blake obliged.

“Amazing. Like liquid silk.”

He stared down at her as he said it, but she could feel the connection buzzing between him and Jamie, too.

“I bet she’s soooo wet. She was wet back before I even had a mouth on her—weren’t you, baby?”

She tried nodding. Nodding was easier than speaking.

“I can feel her clit, too. All…hard and…swollen.”

“Oh, Lord. Keep talking,” Jamie said, as he sprawled onto his back beside her. He had a hand on himself, too—just kind of lazily stroking—and that was maybe the hottest thing about the whole scenario.

It was so close to her dreams, that was the thing. Her dreams about them fucking her and fucking her while holding onto that little comfortable back and forth they both had. She’d known they would. They were just so easy with each other—how could they not talk about sex in the same way?

“And I can feel her sort of…tilting her hips up every time I slide down, like she just wants me to fill her up. Is that what you want, June? You want me to fill you up?”

The answer was yes, yes. Funny how it came out—

“I want to suck him off while you fuck me.”

But she understood why it had to happen. Blake was sliding and sliding over her clit and Jamie had really started jerking at his cock and both things were so delicious to watch and feel that nothing else would do. The two things combined just pushed her mouth to new dirty heights, before she’d given it permission or even really had a chance to think about it.

Though she could tell Jamie had thought about it. Mainly because he didn’t hesitate before saying, “Turn around then, honey.”

She fumbled toward the suggestion, blindly, skidding on the sheets and bemoaning the loss of Blake’s cock pressed so good against her clit. But feeling him grab her hips, suddenly rough, then getting Jamie’s hand in her hair and his mouth on hers—yeah. That more than made up for it.

She remembered, quickly, how good and dirty his kisses were. He made breathless sounds into her mouth. He made tingles rush down her body with his rudely thrusting tongue. And just when she was half-drunk with lust and ready to somehow have sex with him through the medium of their mouths together, he pushed his way up the bed and gave her something else to occupy her tongue and teeth and lips with.

It would have made her supremely nervous or at the very least shaky if Blake hadn’t chosen that exact moment to sink his cock all the way into her—all the way to the root. Then all she could do was widen her eyes and land face first in Jamie’s stomach, because Jesus Christ, it was a lot to take.

She didn’t even need the
fuck, she’s so tight
, from Blake. She could tell she was tight, because he felt immense and solid and like he was going to split her in two. He’d gone in easy enough because she was as wet as a river and halfway to being relaxed, but it didn’t make the feel of him any less intrusive.

Though she wasn’t sure if intrusive was exactly the right word. Did intrusive also mean awesome? Because it was definitely that. She didn’t even have to flutter her muscles around the hard length of him, or rock back against his body, or do any of the things she had a violent urge to do. Just the sense of being filled up and held—that was enough.

Or at least, it was until Blake said, “I can’t move. I’m gonna go off. I’m gonna go off.”

And Jamie said, “I need you, baby. I need your mouth on me.”

After which, nothing was enough. She didn’t care if Blake came immediately and copiously then failed to ever get it up again. She needed to grind hard against that thick shaft, and sate that maddening buzz that was fizzing its way through her body.

And it was easy, really, once she got going. Blake kind of tried to stop her but it was nothing more than a token protest. She could feel his thighs trembling against the backs of hers, and whenever she slid back down over that thing, that great thing that was making hot wet shakes of pleasure surge up through her, he moaned out, “Ohhhh God.”

He kept doing it, too—until
ohhhh God
became oh God oh God oh God. Then turned into fuck me, fuck me. She wasn’t sure there were sweeter words in all the world, and there was barely a sweeter feeling. It was simple and much better than she ever remembered it being before.

The difficulty came when she tried to get to grips with the other half of the equation. The thing she really, really wanted to do, but found next to impossible because he had a handful of her hair.

And not in the good, hot, filthy way. He didn’t urge her down on his cock, or show how turned on he was and how good it felt by squeezing that handful. Instead he used it to keep her almost totally away from the mouthwatering sight that was his erection.

She wasn’t sure what to think. She’d never wanted to go down on someone so badly, and been thwarted so successfully. He even made the hand in her hair look like nice petting, while he forced her to look up at him as he said a series of totally fantastic and utterly disgusting things.

“Go on then baby,” he said. “Fuck his big cock. That feel good, huh? It feel good when you work yourself on that thing? Is it gonna make you come? Is it making you even wetter, even more slippery? Getting nice and easy to just…take him?”

She wondered if he understood that it wasn’t really Blake’s cock pounding right over that sweet spot inside her that was doing it for her. Well—it was. But not as much as the half-tortured expression on Jamie’s face and his words, Lord, his words.

Even Blake had to tell him to stop talking. He had his hands in the curve of her hips and they felt slick with sweat and almost clammy, and she could tell he couldn’t help shoving against her now. He was getting close—really close, and the thought made her almost fall to begging Jamie.

“Just let me,” she started out, but he was good enough to not make her finish. Instead he loosened his grip and she found she could get up kind of shakily on all fours—one hand on one side of his body, the other on the other.

Then it was simply a matter of ducking her head and licking a long, wet stripe the length of his dick, until he told her he couldn’t take it and sensation bloomed low down in her belly, thick and strong.

He tasted like she imagined he would—soap and salt. And he felt the way she’d thought, too, almost unyielding and too big to take. Everything all satin-soft and made even more so because he wasn’t cut, the way Blake was. It brought her up short, too, this weird new thing—the way the skin clung so tight to the glistening red tip, and when she put her mouth over it, she could feel it sliding as she slid.

She had to admit—it was a strange sort of fetish-y thrill. But then she felt silly for getting all worked up over an uncut cock in the middle of a threesome. The taste of him—so sharp and sweet at the tip—and the feel of him—practically glossy and overly slick with pre-cum—was enough to get her close.

Then Blake’s cock shoving into her, too…Jesus. She couldn’t take it. He was getting erratic and shaky, and the noises he’d started making were sending fresh bursts of pleasure direct to her clit and the tips of her tits, and when she sucked hard and frantic on Jamie’s dick, a fresh burst of that slippery liquid flooded her mouth.

He was going to come. She could tell it without him ordering her to stop, because he couldn’t hold it off. She was going to make him come because she couldn’t stop sucking and licking and trying to take so much of him that it made her gag, and she was going to make Blake come with the slick clench of her cunt, and just those two ideas…just the knowledge that Jamie’s voice had gone all grating and Blake couldn’t stop moaning because of her…it was enough to get her there.