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Authors: Katie Porter
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squeeze.”
“I—” Daniel’s sentence was cut short when Naya took him deep and hummed contentedly around his shaft. “ Fuck .”
Remy smirked. Sweat trickled down his neck and wet the black tank top where it drew taut against his abdomen. “What was that, Daniel?”
“I don’t hurt my angel.”
“Course not,” Remy said, so matter-of-fact. “You’re gonna hold on tight while this stunning, beaten, greedy little submissive services us both.”
Naya groaned. Between that vibration on his dick and her implacable hold on his inner thigh, Daniel matched her throaty growl. He slapped his hands onto her back, pinched, kneaded her hot flesh as she tortured him with stronger, more forceful sweeps of her tongue. She changed angles so that he could thrust to the back of her throat. Pleasure rocketed up his spine. He tightened his fingers.
“Fuck, yes.”
Remy’s words were a low hiss. Approval. Wonder, even, as he stroked with a building rhythm. The wonder affected Daniel the most. Naya was brag-worthy, but only to a man with sense enough to appreciate what writhed beneath his body. Remy’s awe made it work. Had the man seemed to regard this as an ordinary fuck, it would’ve been just that—a one-time deal. For Daniel and Naya, it would’ve been a fun-time memory to share for the rest of their lives.
Instead, Remy was a work of art. And true works of art took Daniel’s breath away.
“You think too much, boy,” Remy said with that teasing smile. “You’ve known how to make this sweet thing hurt.”
“Only because…”
Remy’s hips slowed. “Naya, let him go.”
With a gasp, Daniel used her back to brace himself against the sudden loss. No wet mouth. No clasping arm. She released him entirely. Remy’s words were a spell that controlled her completely.
The Cajun reached out and ran his knuckles under Daniel’s chin, then grabbed it. Daniel could’ve wrenched free. Could’ve shoved him away or thrown him out the door.
He didn’t. He looked straight into eyes that were a shade darker than his own, eyes that burned with the fire of creativity and obsession. This was choreography. Remy was still running the show.
The Cajun grinned, salacious and happily arrogant. “I said you know how to make her hurt, and you didn’t finish your sentence. ‘Only because,’ you said. Interesting.” He released his grip and trailed elegant fingers down Daniel’s throat, pecs, abs, and stopped short of where Naya’s tongue had left Daniel’s hard cock slick with saliva. “Because why?”
As if snapping out of a dream, Daniel shook his head and shifted back. He positioned Naya’s hips so that her body was forced to give up the prize of Remy’s prick. “Forget it.”
Remy shrugged, standing there nude and achingly erect, as if the outcome didn’t matter. A flash of a deeper emotion struck Daniel as disappointment. Loss. Maybe even…hurt?
“Just a question, Daniel. Don’t need to take offense and ruin the fun. It’d be fine if you really don’t know.”
Daniel felt as if he’d been standing at the window overlooking the city below—but without the safety of glass between him and the pavement. Something was happening, and it was scaring the shit out of him. The shimmer of hopefulness behind Remy’s jaded expression only added to the confusion—and the appeal.
“Daniel…?” came a soft whisper.
Remy shot Naya a hard look, grabbed her hip and smacked one ass cheek with the sound of a whip’s crack. She yelped. “Not a word, chère . Remember? You were being so good. This is between me and your boy.”
“I’m not a boy,” Daniel said on a frustrated growl. “Not hers and especially not yours.”
Another infuriating shrug. “You got a body that could fuck like a machine. That true, Daniel? You make me hot just looking at you.”
Swallowing tightly, Daniel fought to keep his eyes open. Stare this man down. Or at least look at Naya’s sweat-sleek body and feel the vibrations of her
“I—” Daniel’s sentence was cut short when Naya took him deep and hummed contentedly around his shaft. “ Fuck .”
Remy smirked. Sweat trickled down his neck and wet the black tank top where it drew taut against his abdomen. “What was that, Daniel?”
“I don’t hurt my angel.”
“Course not,” Remy said, so matter-of-fact. “You’re gonna hold on tight while this stunning, beaten, greedy little submissive services us both.”
Naya groaned. Between that vibration on his dick and her implacable hold on his inner thigh, Daniel matched her throaty growl. He slapped his hands onto her back, pinched, kneaded her hot flesh as she tortured him with stronger, more forceful sweeps of her tongue. She changed angles so that he could thrust to the back of her throat. Pleasure rocketed up his spine. He tightened his fingers.
“Fuck, yes.”
Remy’s words were a low hiss. Approval. Wonder, even, as he stroked with a building rhythm. The wonder affected Daniel the most. Naya was brag-worthy, but only to a man with sense enough to appreciate what writhed beneath his body. Remy’s awe made it work. Had the man seemed to regard this as an ordinary fuck, it would’ve been just that—a one-time deal. For Daniel and Naya, it would’ve been a fun-time memory to share for the rest of their lives.
Instead, Remy was a work of art. And true works of art took Daniel’s breath away.
“You think too much, boy,” Remy said with that teasing smile. “You’ve known how to make this sweet thing hurt.”
“Only because…”
Remy’s hips slowed. “Naya, let him go.”
With a gasp, Daniel used her back to brace himself against the sudden loss. No wet mouth. No clasping arm. She released him entirely. Remy’s words were a spell that controlled her completely.
The Cajun reached out and ran his knuckles under Daniel’s chin, then grabbed it. Daniel could’ve wrenched free. Could’ve shoved him away or thrown him out the door.
He didn’t. He looked straight into eyes that were a shade darker than his own, eyes that burned with the fire of creativity and obsession. This was choreography. Remy was still running the show.
The Cajun grinned, salacious and happily arrogant. “I said you know how to make her hurt, and you didn’t finish your sentence. ‘Only because,’ you said. Interesting.” He released his grip and trailed elegant fingers down Daniel’s throat, pecs, abs, and stopped short of where Naya’s tongue had left Daniel’s hard cock slick with saliva. “Because why?”
As if snapping out of a dream, Daniel shook his head and shifted back. He positioned Naya’s hips so that her body was forced to give up the prize of Remy’s prick. “Forget it.”
Remy shrugged, standing there nude and achingly erect, as if the outcome didn’t matter. A flash of a deeper emotion struck Daniel as disappointment. Loss. Maybe even…hurt?
“Just a question, Daniel. Don’t need to take offense and ruin the fun. It’d be fine if you really don’t know.”
Daniel felt as if he’d been standing at the window overlooking the city below—but without the safety of glass between him and the pavement. Something was happening, and it was scaring the shit out of him. The shimmer of hopefulness behind Remy’s jaded expression only added to the confusion—and the appeal.
“Daniel…?” came a soft whisper.
Remy shot Naya a hard look, grabbed her hip and smacked one ass cheek with the sound of a whip’s crack. She yelped. “Not a word, chère . Remember? You were being so good. This is between me and your boy.”
“I’m not a boy,” Daniel said on a frustrated growl. “Not hers and especially not yours.”
Another infuriating shrug. “You got a body that could fuck like a machine. That true, Daniel? You make me hot just looking at you.”
Swallowing tightly, Daniel fought to keep his eyes open. Stare this man down. Or at least look at Naya’s sweat-sleek body and feel the vibrations of her
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