Honor Bound by Joey Hill (speld decodable readers .txt) 📕

she was looking at his hand between her thighs, his fingers caressing her. Then she added her own touch, covering herself in her sweet cream.

“Put out your hand and let him taste how wet you are.”

Her pupils dilated. She had fantasies, but he doubted she’d done anywhere near the things she’d imagined. Like letting a man lick her come from her fingers. Had she ever even masturbated for someone?

Mesmerized by his gaze, she lifted her hand, held it out for Simon. He knew the moment the man sucked her into his mouth. Her lips parted, she drew in a sharp breath, closed her eyes. Then swallowed.

A rush of moisture flooded his hand.

“She tastes sweet,” Simon murmured.

His cock twitched. Ford wanted to bury his face in her pussy, lick her to kingdom come.

“Here’s the first of many orgasms.”

He spread his legs, drawing her thighs fully apart, then strummed her little button as if it were an instrument.

“Ford.” She dug her fingers into his jacket, arched. He loved his name on her lips.

“Please.”

He slid two fingers in her to find her tight and slick. “Pinch her nipples hard. She loves that.”

Simon chuckled. “She’s a naughty one.”

Her gaze flicked between the two of them as Simon rose. She panted as Ford hit a particularly sweet spot.

Simon ran his fingers across the swell of her breasts. “Fucking gorgeous,” he said with a touch of awe. Then he dipped down beneath the corset’s lace edge, popped a nipple free, then her breast. Sophia hissed when he pinched her, the areola turning a rich, deep red, as succulent as a cherry.

“The other one,” Ford demanded. Her body clenched around his fingers. He pulled out to circle her clit with all her moisture as Simon gave ministration to her other breast.

The sight, long, pert nipples, breasts plumped above the corset, Simon’s blunt, callused fingers working her—Christ, it was too fucking hot. Ford’s cock throbbed like a

jackhammer in his pants.

Then Simon pulled back her head by the ends of her hair and took her mouth. Her

perfume’s intoxicating scent rose from the hollow of her throat. Her body tightened, clenched, jerked, and soft sounds purred in her throat. Tension built in her thighs, her pussy milked his fingers, and she shoved Simon away, crying out. After long, heavenly moments, she threw herself against Ford’s chest to catch her breath.

It was too damn good for words.

Ford didn’t give her more than five seconds to gather herself. He pushed her off his lap, backed her up against the table, and lifted her skirt.

“Dessert now,” he said, his voice harsh. His eyes glittered with the hardness of amber.

With his tongue on her, Sophia had barely recovered from the last as a second orgasm shot to the surface. She’d wanted attention; Ford gave her more than she could handle.

Her body shuddered. Simon tore off his suit jacket and yanked on his tie, holding her gaze as Ford buried his mouth against her. There was something so indefinably sexy and decadent about looking in a man’s eyes while someone else’s tongue swirled her closer to orgasm.

Simon was hot, tall, big hands, sculpted muscles, and a sexy, shit-eating grin. She didn’t cuss, but there was no other word for it. Ford hummed against her pussy. Oh, God. She was going to do it again.

“Let me make her come this time,” Simon growled.

Ford laughed against her, pulled away, twisted the chair he’d been sitting in, and positioned her in his lap, her back to his chest. “I want to watch it from here,” he whispered against her ear, resting his chin on her shoulder to peer down.

Then he tugged her legs, settling her knees to the outside of his, and spreading her wide for Simon’s view.

“Man, that’s too fucking pretty to resist.” Simon went to his knees before her and parted her folds with his fingers.

“Oh, God, Ford.” She didn’t know what she meant by the plea. It was too much,

terrifyingly fast. She’d gone manic, jumping from nerves to exhilaration and back again.

During dinner, she’d almost called it off. Then chastised herself for being chicken. Again.

As she’d been for years. Yet even in deciding, she’d envisioned hours of working up to such intimate things. But giving herself over to Ford, he took her at his pace. And God, she needed to come again so badly her pulse pounded in her ears.

He kissed her neck as if he understood every fear, every emotion driving through her.

“It’s okay, baby. Let him make you feel good.” Ford held her skirt high, exposing her trimmed pussy, pink flesh, and turgid clitoris. “Beg him to suck you, baby. Talk dirty.”

She couldn’t resist doing whatever he asked, wanting to please him as much as she needed her own pleasure. “Please lick me, Simon.”

Simon rubbed the edge of his finger up and down, sliding inside her pussy briefly, then watched her with smoky gray eyes as he circled her clitoris.

“Dirtier,” Ford urged.

She inhaled, let it out. “Eat me,” she whispered, then raised her voice. “Suck my pussy, fuck me with your fingers, make me come.”

Simon attacked her with gusto. Ford’s cock surged against her bottom. A silver head between her legs, her white skin against the navy of Ford’s slacks, a tidal wave of sensation. Simon swiped her clit with his tongue, sucked the button, worked it, then dipped down to drink from her pussy, shoving his tongue deep inside. She panted, felt herself losing her mind, Ford whispering irresistibly in her ear. He took hold of her chin, turned her slightly, pulling her mouth to his, then he kissed her with lips, tongue, teeth, everything. The two of them took her over, dragged her under, and when Simon’s blunt fingers entered her, as he played her with his tongue, she came, moaning against Ford’s mouth. He drank her in, every sound, every gasp.

When she opened her eyes, Simon gazed up at her with eyes the color of ashed coal. “I need to fuck her, Ford, now.”

Ford buried his face against her neck.