Chapter 34 Wren
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
WREN
Iwake to the sound of birds chirping, and my eyes fly open with fear. Am I back home with Robert?
I glance around, and the light coming through the curtains shows me a room I don’t recognize.
When my eyes land on a half-open closet door, I freeze in fear as memories from a long time ago start to resurface.
Feeling something move beside me, I gasp, my eyes shooting to—Dex. My shoulders drop in relief.
“Are you okay?” Sly asks from my other side as he yawns and sits up beside me.
“Yeah, I just forgot where I was for a minute,” I tell him, carefully avoiding looking at the closet.
He wraps his arm around me and pulls me into his side in a comforting embrace. “You’re okay, Wren. You’re with us now. You’re safe.”
I nod, taking a moment to let my heartbeat slow to its normal pace.
“Are you hungry? We didn’t have a chance to check out the food situation last night.”
“I could eat,” I tell him, lifting my watch to see it’s a little after nine in the morning.
He pulls the blanket down, and when he sees the cuff on my ankle, he makes a noise that’s a cross between a huff of amusement and a grunt of displeasure.
He undoes it, then attaches my end to Dex’s other ankle, pressing his finger to his lips, telling me to keep quiet as I try to hold in my chuckle.
We stand together, and he pulls on some pants, then he gestures across the hall to the open door. “Why don’t you brush your teeth, then go see if either of them are awake? I’ll go explore our food situation.”
I nod eagerly, quickly brushing and using the bathroom before I zip across the hall into one of the other bedrooms, eager to see my other two men.
When I see the tattoo-covered back and short brown hair, I know I’m in Jagger’s room.
Biting my lip, I tiptoe to the bed and slowly climb on it, hoping to sneak in a cuddle. But I should have known better than to think I could go unnoticed by Jagger.
One second, I’m on my hands and knees on the bed, crawling toward him in stealth mode, the next I‘m on my back, his body caging mine against the bed.
“Good morning, Jagger,” I squeak out, then offer him a big smile, hoping he’s not too mad I tried to sneak up on him.
His eyes zero in on my mouth, and my smile slowly fades as my amusement turns to something more heated.
Slowly, as if waiting for me to pull away, he lowers his lips to mine.
I expect it to be a chaste kiss, but when I part my lips, and his tongue touches mine, a rumble comes from his chest, something akin to a growl as he starts kissing me harder.
Large hands find mine, and he pins them to the mattress beside my head. I moan against his passion as one of his hands trails down my arm to cup my face. He tilts my head, positioning me just the way he wants me, allowing himself to have complete control.
His fingers continue their perusal down my neck, over my chest, and when he pinches my nipples through my shirt, I buck my hips up into him, a deep pleading whine escaping me.
His hand moves down further, all the way to my bare thigh, and then he starts sliding his hand back up, under my shirt and over my hip. When he finds no panties there, that rumble returns, deeper this time as his kiss turns frantic.
I lift my free hand and run my fingers through his short hair, lightly grazing my nails across the back of his head. His hips are the ones to buck this time, telling me he likes that. I do it again, and his hand moves across my abdomen to the place where I’m craving his touch the most.
His thumb circles my clit, and I whimper against him, my hand moving to his shoulder to hang on tight to him. He continues the torturous movement until I can't take it anymore.
Hoping that he’ll give me more if I make him as needy as me, I push my hand down between us until I find his hard bulge that’s been pressing into my thigh. I squeeze him through his boxers, and a sound that sounds a lot like a muffled moan escapes his throat, surprising me.
My kiss becomes as desperate as his, and I try to give back as much passion as he gives me.
Trailing my hand up to his abs, then, in a moment of desperation and boldness, I slide my hand inside his boxers and grip his hard length.
Dios mio, that's huge!
I try to remember the way Pete had stroked himself last night and mimic those movements, using his precum as a lubricant to help glide my hand.
He growls again, bucking into me and finally giving me what I’ve been craving as he slowly presses two fingers inside me.
“Yes!” I gasp, pulling my mouth to the side to suck in some much needed air.
He starts to kiss along my jaw and down my neck as his fingers pump in and out of me.
His hips begin to match the rhythm of his fingers, and I whimper, imagining it’s his cock inside me instead.
It’s not a hard thing to picture with the way he moves.
My hand keeps pace with his thrusts as his tempo picks up.
Dex’s tongue felt amazing, and oral was something I hope to repeat many times in the future.
But having something as firm as Jagger’s large fingers inside me makes it a completely different experience.
I want to match his rhythm with my hips, but his body is holding me firmly to the bed.
All I can do is stroke him and let him bring me over the edge.
I feel it coming, and it’s like watching a tidal wave moving toward the shore, knowing there is nothing anyone can do to stop it, and when it hits, it’s going to obliterate you.
And boy, does it ever.
His mouth covers mine as I scream my release, his fingers and hips keeping their pace through my convulsions. Sparks of lightning ignite behind my closed eyes, and his hips twitch until I feel a hot wetness cover my hand.
His body deflates on top of mine, but he manages to hold himself from crushing me as he slides slightly to the side. His eyes open, and he meets my gaze. Slowly, he lifts his drenched hand and starts to lick it clean.
I watch him with wide eyes, wondering why that’s so attractive.
Then I remember where my own hand is. I hold it up, twisting it back and forth, looking at the large amount of cum covering my fingers. I lick my lips, curious about the taste, and tentatively swipe my tongue over the tip of one finger.
Hmm. It’s different from the precum. I try it again, a little more this time, and when I see Jagger’s wide-eyed expression, I try not to grin, sticking an entire finger in my mouth this time.
It’s not terrible. In fact, I think I might prefer it to the disgusting oatmeal I used to eat. And if Jagger enjoys watching me do it as much as his face tells me he does, then I’d have this for breakfast every day.