Page 17

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ELENA

The elevator dings when we reach the thirty-second floor, and I squeeze Victoria’s hand as we step through the open doors of cab. “Apartment C.” She ushers me toward the door to our left.

She lifts her hand, but the door pulls open before her knuckles ever reach it. Conor is standing on the other side of the threshold, wearing nothing but a pair of blue jeans. My gaze rakes from his broad shoulders to his rippled abs. The deep V protruding from his waistband is practically an invitation to admire the bulge resting against the zipper.

“We’re getting straight to it, I see,” Victoria muses, leading me into the apartment. It’s not the bachelor pad I was expecting. His apartment is light and airy, with the last of today’s sun spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows, accentuating the slight golden undertones of the sand-colored walls. The lightness of the walls is offset by the deep chestnut leather furniture adorning the space.

“Actually, you’re early, and I was still getting dressed,” Conor retorts, pulling a tight white T-shirt over his head. “I have whiskey on the terrace to toast to the three of us exploring one other.”

Unable to bite my tongue, I ask with a chuckle, “Do you often toast your sexual conquests?”

Stepping close and slipping his hand over my hip, he pulls me against him. He towers over me, and his eyes dart between me and Victoria as he slides his free hand slowly down her arm. “Only when they’re as gorgeous as the two of you.” Grabbing both our hands, he leads us through his apartment toward the terrace.

It is equally as spacious and similarly decorated; the leather replaced with dark umber patio furniture topped with plush sand-colored cushions. The terrace is surrounded by a short glass wall, providing a completely unobstructed view of the skyline and the sun slowly setting behind it.

“The view is quite remarkable, but neither Elena nor I particularly enjoy whiskey,” Victoria announces, taking a seat in an oversized chair and pulling me onto her lap.

Ignoring her statement, Conor opens the bottle and pours into the amber liquid into the three glasses waiting on the table. Lifting one, he takes a small sip as he rounds the table separating us and steps behind the chair we’re sitting in. His free hand lightly snakes around my neck, sliding up my chin and tilting my face up toward his. “Everyone likes whiskey cailín dáigh ,” he informs Victoria. “If you think you don’t, you just haven’t it sampled it correctly.”

He lifts the glass, filling his mouth. As he bends over me, he lightly squeezes my jaw, urging me to part my lips. He presses his to mine and lets the warm liquid dribble over them, spilling into my mouth and down my chin. When I swallow, it burns my throat as droplets trickle down my neck. “Elena seems to enjoy my Jameson,” Conor gravelly whispers with a smirk as I stare up at him needily. “You can tell me you don’t like it after you taste it from Elena.”

His fingers slip into her perfectly styled hair, pulling her face to mine as he fills his mouth again. Leaning over, he lets the whiskey spill over his lips again, this time allowing most of it to pour onto my chin and run down to my cleavage. Vic licks up my neck, gathering some of the Jameson as it trails down my skin, her lips meeting mine as Conor’s do. All three of our tongues intertwine as they clean the whiskey from my chin, and they both take turns plunging their tongue into my mouth.

“Everything tastes good on you, sweet girl.” Victoria peppers the words down my neck. Pressing her face against my exposed cleavage, she laps up the trails of whiskey that spilled beneath my dress.

Conor hooks his fingers under the spaghetti straps of my dress, and he slides them off my shoulders. Victoria pulls the dress down my body, my breasts spilling free as it bunches around my waist. I lift my hips from her lap, allowing her to pull it completely from me. She haphazardly tosses my dress onto the table as Conor grabs another glass of whiskey. “Your sweet girl is becoming a delicious, sticky mess,” he teases, trickling the contents of the glass over my parted lips before pouring the rest onto my heaving breasts. The warm liquid cascades down my body, filling my navel and running over my thighs.

The two of them lick and suck at my breasts before Conor kneels at our feet. Licking down my stomach, he stops to suck the whiskey from my belly button before lapping at my thighs. My entire body is on fire as they both tend to me, cleaning the spiced stickiness from my skin. Conor spreads my legs wider, and a devilish smile spreads across his face.

“It appears that both my girls are going to be a mess.” He drags his tongue along Victoria’s thigh beneath me, a shiver running through me as goosebumps prickle over her skin. He pulls me from her lap and onto his. Grabbing the final glass from the table, he pushes the flowy skirt of Victoria’s dress up and drips whiskey over her thighs. He downs the remnants of the glass, roughly placing it on the table as he swipes the spiciness around my mouth with his tongue. Running my hand along Victoria’s wet thighs, I grind myself against Conor. Without pulling his lips from mine, he speaks through our kiss, “Ride my lap as you help me lick her clean.”

With Conor’s hand on my ass, helping me grind over the hardened length in his pants, we both lick along Victoria’s thighs. A chorus of moans and groans rise from all of us as we grow even hungrier for each other. “Fuck,” Conor groans into Victoria’s panty-covered pussy. “I’m going to enjoy the two of you.”