Chapter 31 #2
Nope, it was just her, and the crazy grin she was giving him, and her scent in his nostrils, and her body astride him, and her lips...her lips that he wanted to explore at his leisure, and her hands, and her very wet pussy, that he was so ready to fill.
She bent down again and encompassed his crown with her mouth.
Oh, hell, that was sweet. Unexpected, and sweet. Even through the condom it was nearly more bliss than he could handle. She started fellating him, moving her hand in time with her sucks.
“Hell, yeah!” Nash remarked. “Get it all in there. Take the whole fucking length of him.”
She tried.
He hit the back of her throat, and she swallowed.
“Ca..castle... damn!” He meant to stop her, but his hands wound up in her hair, encouraging her instead.
Okay, so as a matter of fact, he was sensitive, and he’d been hard for her and aching for her for quite some time now.
He didn’t want it to stop, but if she kept it up, they’d never get as far as being connected, and he wanted them connected.
He wanted her heat around him and her breasts in his face, and the slip and slide of her riding him. God, yes, he wanted to be ridden.
“Sweetheart...”
She started caressing his balls, and his taint...and back to his balls. Dammit, it was like she had a map of all his most sensitive spots. How did she know? Had somebody told her?
She started an upwards climb again, still with her mouth on him, still with those appreciative groans happening alongside her kisses. Eyes closed, he basked in the sensation. Once she got to the tip of him, he was going to pull her to his mouth, and fuck what Nash thought.
One step, two step... His cock bucked in response to every kiss.
Unexpectedly, she grunted, as she was shunted forward against Paul’s body. Her nose hit his chest, and she turned her head so that her cheek was against him.
Paul opened his eyes, figuring she’d lost her balance and slipped, only to find Nash behind her, hands on her arse, standing in the aisle between the two beds.
She gave a surprised moan. “Nash, I thought….”
“That I was going to sit back and watch. Change of plan. How can I resist when your arse is wobbling away like that and your pussy’s dripping? Hold still for me now. That’s it. Fuck, baby. Yeah. You’re so slick for me.”
Lead weights settled in Paul’s belly. The bastard was inside of her, was fucking her like he had every right to fucking intrude. Seeing, hearing, feeling that. It was like someone was cheese grating his innards.
The wanker. The fucking wanker.
They’d been so close. He’d been about to kiss her, tell her exactly how much he loved her, and then give her every ounce of pleasure his body was capable of.
Idiots. They were fucking idiots.
They’d been so focused on one another they’d forgotten all about Nash, so of course he was punishing them for it. That was supposing he’d ever intended to honour the deal.
Paul’s muscles twitched. He wanted so badly to rip them apart, but he was trapped beneath the weight of them both, being used as a goddamn pillow while Nash dirtied her with his cock.
There was no way to punch the guy without dislodging her, and no way he could do that without risking hurting her too.
He wanted all that volcanic heat wrapped around him and sucking him in.
Most of all, he wanted the noises leaving her throat to be entirely his doing.
For them to be so raw and utterly filthy in their carnality that they’d wind up etched onto his eardrums the way the rest of her was already etched into his heart.
Instead, he was stuck being used as a pillow while her beautiful furrow was being ploughed by an incompetent prick.
Scenes of gory, wanton dismemberment filled his thoughts.
It was a testament to how much Jodi turned him on that he stayed hard. Her hand still clasped around him probably helped, as too, most likely, did the sixteen…seventeen days of abstinence prior to this. Wanking in the shower didn’t count.
Oh fuck!
Luthor had warned him. He’d told him.
Paul had dismissed it, because whatever, he’d had threesomes before, he’d celebrated May Eve and several other seasonal festivals amidst tangles of limbs. Those times had been fun. This wasn’t fun.
This was agony.
He didn’t want Curtis fucking Nash fucking her pussy, he wanted to be the only man with that right. The only man giving her the pleasure she deserved.
Fucking imps with their fucking hot pokers stabbing him in the chest.
If not for the matter of weights and angles, he’d tear the bastard a new arsehole and then drop kick him off the balcony.
“You feel so good, Jo-Jo. Always so good. Your pussy’s coating me like a wet little glove. You were made for me honey. Gonna spill. Almost there.” Nash kept on hammering himself home, slamming her against him.
“My precious buxom angel. Mine… Mine. All…fucking…mine.
He was going to puke.
Paul shoved his fist into his mouth and bit down hard enough the taste of iron flooded his mouth.
The mushroom cloud exploding inside his head at least spared him the full interactive experience of witnessing Nash flood her naked cunt and grunt his way through that release. He knew he was making sounds of fury and despair.
“Paul.”
His gaze snapped to her face. Concern creased her brow. She was hot in the cheeks, a little breathless, but her attention was on him, on the heat pouring off him, and his punctured, bleeding hand, not Nash. Not the man who’d just come inside of her.
“Are you okay?” she mouthed.
“Fine.” He was fine. Not really. At least some part of him knew something inside of him had snapped.
“I’m sorry.”
None of this was her fault. None of it.
He was sorry too, for ever leaving her, and allowing her to fall into Nash’s clutches.
Nash bent over and placed a kiss halfway along Jodi’s back. “Love you,” he said in a half-arsed way.
The fuck he did.
The fucker didn’t love her. He didn’t give a shit about her. Wouldn’t know what love was if it fucked him with a shovel.
“Okay.” Nash patted her still upthrust arse as he slid his already shrivelling cock free of her cunt. “Let’s go.”
“You fucking what?” Paul’s emotions were addled, but not enough to prevent him being outraged all over again. Monster. The guy was a fucking monster in addition to being a dick.
Nash was already reaching for his shirt. “Mate, we’re all done here.”
“You selfish git.”
“Come on, Jo-Jo, let’s go. Fun’s over.”
“You really are a complete and utter wanker, aren’t you? You’re done, so the party’s over.”
“Like I give a shit if you get off.”
Paul made a choking noise. “Wasn’t me I was thinking about.”
“Paul, it’s—”
It was not okay, and he said so.
Nash fished around for his trousers. “She barely ever comes. Tell him, babe.”
He was so nonchalant about it, that Paul figured his ears had to be malfunctioning.
“Castle?”
Not only did she refuse to look at him, she’d gone both very still and very quiet.
How had Jodi, his Jodi, ended up with a guy who couldn’t get her off?
Any minute the top of his head was going to blow off.
“You can’t make her come, and you’re okay with that?
” He lobbed the words like grenades at Nash, before scooting his attention back to her.
“He can’t make you come, and you’ve chosen that? ”
“Fuck you, dude. She’s not wired that way. Lots of women find it difficult.”
Was that so? Was he supposed to conclude that his and Jodi’s one and only time together had been an anomaly? “Funny, I don’t recall any problems in that department.”
Nash gave a nasty laugh. “Yeah, sorry to break it to you, man, but she was probably faking.”
He didn’t need to be reassured that wasn’t the case.
If you were inside someone when it happened, you could feel it.
Fuck could you feel it. It was one of the best things about screwing, feeling that other person come apart.
Not just seeing and hearing it but experiencing it right along with them.
And if you’d ever felt that, well, then you could spot a faker.
Paul slithered down the bed so his head was right between her legs as she knelt.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Nash demanded.
Paul ignored him. Only one person mattered, and their name wasn’t Curtis Nash.
Now, while he didn’t claim to have superpowers, he knew a thing or two about arousal, and the woman he was feasting his gaze on was still plenty aroused despite the filthy trick her fiancé had just played.
She shivered in all the right ways when his breath connected with her skin.
Groaned in a way that made his cock twitch when he blew.
“Babe?” Nash tapped her arm but failed to draw her attention. “Let’s leave.”
“Stay awhile, sweetheart,” Paul encouraged. “Let me take care of you.”
“Paul, I... I should...” Her protests died as his mouth found her wet cunt. “Oh! Oh, damn...” The groan that came out of her mouth next nearly had him blowing his load, and made the irritating taste of Curtis Nash on his tongue worth it.
Paul blew again, making sure she felt it right where she needed to this time. “You’re beautiful. You’re so goddamned beautiful. Gonna put my tongue on you. Lick you clean of him.”
“Now, hang on—”
“Gonna fuck you with my tongue, Castle. Gonna fuck you with my fingers. Gonna wring orgasm after orgasm out of you. Relieve all those needs that haven’t been fulfilled.”
“Mate, you’re not fucking my fiancée. I’ve changed my mind. We’re done here.”
Wrong. They were not remotely done.
“I’m yours, Castle. We’re meant for each other. Just say the word.”
“Stop this, now!” Nash demanded.
“Say it, and I’ll fuck you slow, and then I’ll fuck you hard. I’ll fuck you until stars explode in your brain, and not just once, but every time. Every fucking time.”
His mouth met her skin again.
He watched the hectic flush crawl upwards, the exposure of her throat as her spine arched causing her head to fall backwards.
“Aah! Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck!”
He followed through with his tongue. Lots of it.
In all the places she so obviously needed it.
While he might not have been daubed with Ash’s moniker as the King of Licking, he did know how to eat pussy.
It was one of his favourite things. Nice pair of chubby thighs around his ears, hands in his hair, the taste of arousal on his tongue, what wasn’t to love?
Her hands closed around his head, in exactly the way he liked, holding him in place, her nails digging into his scalp to the point of pain. He didn’t care. She could hurt him as much as she wanted.
Paul concentrated his focus on her clit. Treated it to his full complement of sucks and licks. He felt the spark leap between them as she came. It burned through his body and burrowed into his chest.
“Jo-Jo, let’s go.”
The flush of her climax was still glowing on her skin.
Nash finally succeeded in dragging her off the bed. He raked around for her clothing and wound up pulling Paul’s discarded T-shirt over her head. Hand clasped firmly around her wrist, trousers on but still undone, he dragged her to the door.