29. Ever #2
She turns her head slightly toward him. “It’s not only distraction.”
“Good.”
I step closer and take her chin, bringing her eyes back to mine. “You say stop, we stop. You say one, only one stays. You want this to end, it ends. No discussion.”
She nods.
“Words,” I say again.
“Yes. I understand.”
Shiloh kisses the side of her neck. Her lashes flutter.
I catch her jaw a little tighter. “You have to stay with us,” I tell her.
Her eyes open.
“I’m here,” she says.
I kiss her.
The first touch is controlled because it has to be.
She is already wound tight, and Shiloh’s hand is sliding over her stomach, his mouth moving beneath her ear.
Her breath breaks against mine. She reaches for me, fingers curling in my shirt, pulling like she needs me closer before she can decide whether to panic or burn.
I choose to burn for her.
I deepen the kiss and back her toward the bench near the wall. Shiloh moves with us, keeping himself at her back, one hand at her hip, the other crossing her body to cup her breast through the sports bra.
She makes a sound into my mouth.
I swallow it.
Then I take the sound apart slowly, lick by lick.
My hands go to her leggings. I hook my fingers into the waistband and stop.
She lifts her hips before I ask. I pull them down with her underwear, lowering myself with the movement until I am kneeling in front of her.
Shiloh keeps her upright from behind, his mouth at her shoulder, his hands working the bra up and away until she is bare from the waist up, too.
She looks down at me.
The nervousness is there now. Not regret. Scale.
She understands what she asked for.
I press my mouth to the inside of her thigh, and her fingers catch in my hair.
Shiloh murmurs something against her skin. I don’t catch the words. I do catch the way her body softens back into him.
I kiss higher. She trembles.
“Ever.”
I look up. “Yes?”
“Don’t be gentle because you’re scared.”
Shiloh’s eyes meet mine over her shoulder. He heard it too.
I drag her closer to the edge of the bench. “Hold her.”
“With pleasure,” Shiloh says.
His arms band around her, one across her chest, one low at her stomach, and he anchors her against him. I put my mouth on her.
Reva jolts, but Shiloh has her. Her hands go to his forearm, nails digging in while I work her with my tongue until her knees start to shake. I don’t tease long. That is Shiloh’s art. Mine is precision. Find the pulse. Apply pressure. Keep her present.
She tries to close her eyes.
I pull back. “Look at me.”
Her eyes open, furious and dark. I slide two fingers inside her and seal my mouth back over her clit. Shiloh’s hand covers one breast, thumb moving over the nipple in a slow rhythm that makes her curse. He bites lightly at the curve of her neck, and that combination draws a broken cry out of her.
She gets close fast. Too fast for what she wants.
I ease off, and she curses me.
Shiloh laughs quietly into her shoulder.
“I hate both of you.”
“No, you don’t,” I say.
Then I stand. Her glare is unconvincing with her mouth parted and her body shaking.
Shiloh turns her face to his and kisses her while I strip. He takes his time with her mouth, distracting and deep, and I watch him do what he does best. He makes wanting feel easy. Makes her forget to defend against it for a few breaths.
I step back in and catch her lower lip between my thumb and forefinger until she looks at me.
“Still yes?”
“Yes.”
Shiloh smiles against her cheek. “Our girl has excellent manners when properly motivated.”
Her eyes flash. “Don’t get smug.”
“Too late.”
I put my hand at the back of her neck and kiss her until the laugh becomes breath. Then I sit on the bench and pull her onto my lap, guiding her knees on either side of my hips.
She braces her hands on my shoulders.
Shiloh moves behind her.
Her attention flicks there.
I catch her chin. “Stay with me first.”
I position myself and wait.
She lowers herself onto me slowly, and every bit of air leaves my lungs.
Her body takes me inch by inch, hot and tight, her fingers digging into my shoulders as she sinks down.
I hold her hips, forcing myself to let her set the pace because that is the point.
Her choice. Her rhythm. Her body deciding how much.
When she is fully seated, she drops her forehead to mine.
“Okay?” I ask.
She nods, then shifts her hips experimentally.
A sound tears out of me before I can stop it.
Her mouth curves.
“Found something,” she whispers.
I grip her hips harder. “Don’t get smug.”
“Too late.”
Shiloh’s hand slides along her spine. “Still with us, sweetheart?”
She looks over her shoulder at him. “Yes.”
He bends and kisses her, softer than I expect. She relaxes into it, still filled by me, still moving in small, careful rolls that make my vision tighten.
Shiloh’s gaze comes to mine, a question in eyes. I nod once.