Page 123 of The Sun & Her Burn

“Yes,” she hissed, her eyes flying open to meet mine with surprising intensity. “And after I used his mouth, I would want to watch you use it too.”

My hand flexed around her neck reflexively at the thought.

It had been too long since I had the pleasure of sliding into Seb’s talented mouth, but I could still remember the awed, reverent look in his eyes when he took me straight down to the root. As if he wasn’t complete until he was filled up with me.

A rough groan rumbled through my chest.

Linnea grinned at me, a sly, ultra-feminine expression. “I don’t just want the two of you for me, Adam. I want the two of you for each other.”

I thought of Savannah without wanting to, remembering how she had always wanted our dalliances to be about her as the center spoke of the wheel. My therapist had suggested that she had used my bisexuality as an excuse to divulge her need to be worshipped by younger, attractive men in order to validate her worth.

No matter the reason, her subtle maneuvering had only proved to deepen the roots of my internalized homophobia. Iknew it, and struggled with it like Peleus wrestling the ever-changing shape of the goddess Thetis, but I had yet to conquer it.

I was making progress, though, and hearing that Linnea wanted Sebastian for me, too, was a balm I hadn’t known I needed.

I bent forward before I could regulate myself, sealing my mouth to hers. She tasted of lemonade and Linnea, a potent mix that drugged me. I ate from her mouth and slid my free hand between her legs where one of her own was playing in the obscene wetness of her folds. Pressing my fingers over hers, I directed her to touch her clit, playing with it almost roughly.

She keened into my mouth, hips juddering as pleasure seared through her.

When I tore myself away from her sweet mouth, she glistened gold with sweat and sunshine, just shy of naked in a way that somehow was even more erotic than true nudity.

“I am not supposed to touch you,” I growled. “But how am I supposed to resist everything that you are? Even when I close my eyes or turn away from you, I can feel your light like sun on my skin.”

“You don’t have to resist me,” she coaxed, tangling our fingers together tightly and arrowing her hand deeper between her legs so that we could press inside her wet heat in tandem. She cried out, eyes squeezed shut, as I curled our fingers into her front wall and rubbed. “You never had to resist either of us. We’re yours, you just have to open your eyes and accept it.”

“You can’t speak for Sebastian,” I countered, but I didn’t stop touching her, didn’t curb the impulse to dip my head and suck a swollen nipple into my mouth.

“If you let him, he would tell you the same,” she pushed.

I kissed her then to shut her up because I couldn’t stand to think any more about the impossible promise of Sebastian Lombardi, let alone combined with the temptation of Linnea.

At this moment, it was just the two of us.

My futurewifeand the woman who was beginning to consume my soul.

“Linnea,” I breathed against her damp lips as I cradled her delicate throat in my hand. “For now, let this be about us.”

Her eyes were wide, so soft and tender a violet blue they seemed like crushed flower petals. “Okay,” she breathed. “You and me.”

“Yes,” I said as primal satisfaction roared through me. “You are mine.”

“I signed on the dotted line,” she quipped, but her sassiness was undercut by the churn of her greedy hips grinding against my hand.

In retribution, I tweaked her clit between our fingers, and she shuddered.

“A contract is not enough,” I growled, thrumming her thumb against her clit while our tangled fingers fucked into her obscenely wet cunt. “I would write my name on your skin, bite it into your neck, tattoo it onto your soul so that every inch of you was made mine in a way that would never fade.”

“Not even in three years?” she whispered, even as her eyes started rolling back into her head and her breath hitched.

“Not even when our bodies turned to dust,” I vowed. “Now, come for me, pretty little thing, and show me just how glorious you are when you come apart.”

I squeezed my hand just a little bit tighter around her neck and ground my thumb into her swollen, slippery clit. Her gasp was thready as it escaped from the pressure in her throat, and her whole body went tight as a wire a moment before she shuddered over into a climax that made her groan and writhe.

I pinned her still with my hands, driving her pleasure higher and higher until she let out a soundless scream and squirted. Riveted by the wet flood of her cum over our hands, I pressedharder against the front wall of her grasping pussy and watched as she drenched herself.

“Fuck,” I cursed hoarsely, so aroused my vision swam. “Such a good girl squirting for me like that. Coming all over our hands like a good little slut.”

“Oh my God, oh my God,” she chanted in a warbled murmur, eyes shut, head arched back into the cushion, legs juddering. “I can’t, I can’t.”