Wrangled (Steele Ranch 2)

Slowly, I shook my head. “Not yet.”

I reached forward, grabbed both her ankles and pulled her to the very edge of the bed. She squeaked in surprise, then came up on her elbows so she could look at me. I fell to my knees on the soft carpet, put my hands on the silkiest fucking inner thighs I’d ever felt, held her open as I put my mouth on her. Took a deep breath, breathed her in. Felt her hot, sweet honey coat my tongue, my lips, even my whiskers.

I groaned.

She moaned. Gripped handfuls of the sheet.

“She tastes so fucking good, doesn’t she?” Jamison asked.

The sound of his boots hitting the floor one after the other followed, but I didn’t answer, too busy sucking on her plump folds, flicking over her clit with my tongue. All that did was have her hands move to my hair and tug. Her eyes fell closed and she flopped back on the bed.

“I’m ready. I’m ready,” she repeated again and again as I got her closer to the brink. I had no intention of pushing her over. I knew I could, but that was the perk of being older and more skilled. I’d take her right to the edge and leave her there so that when Jamison filled her up for the first time, she’d come instead of hurting.

I was careful with her, flicking at her little bud with precision as I slipped one finger into her, trying to let her get used to something inside her. She was so fucking wet that I added a second finger, scissored them to stretch her untried tissues and she quivered and clenched around me, tight. So fucking tight.

“Please, Boone. Please fuck me.”

I growled then, licked her from ass to clit one last time and sat back on my heels. Pre-cum slid in a steady stream down my shaft, coating my balls. Looking up, I saw the way Kitten was lost, completely given over to her need, to what I’d wrung from her body.

I nodded to Jamison as I stood, moved to the head of the bed and settled into the pile of pillows as Jamison scooped Kitten up, laid her against me so she was leaning back against my chest. Reaching around, I cupped her breasts, kissed the side of her neck and up to her ear.

I shifted, hooked my heels on the inside of her calves, spread our legs wide as Jamison moved into position between her parted thighs. He knelt, stroked his hand over her tender flesh.

“It’s time, Kitten. Do you want Jamison to fill you up? Take that sweet cherry?”

“Please,” she whimpered. Her nipples were hard points against my palms, her skin dewy with perspiration, her pussy all swollen and eager. I breathed in the scent of her arousal, licked my lips at the lingering taste. Felt the sticky honey on the tips of my fingers.

“You’re ours, Penelope Vandervelk,” Jamison said, his voice a dark rumble, his need so great as he lined himself up with her virgin opening.

“Ours,” I repeated as I watched my friend slide into Kitten and claim her.

PENNY

They were good. Really, really good at this. I was so far gone with my need that while I felt Jamison’s dick sliding in—how could I miss something the size of a steel beam stretching me wider and wider still—I was too eager for it to be panicked.

I wanted Jamison in me. Needed it. Somehow, I felt empty without one, which was crazy since I’d never had one in me before.

A whimper slipped past my lips as Jamison slid back, pushed forward, a fraction of an inch at a t

ime. As he did so, Boone played with my breasts, plucking and tugging on my nipples, nipping along my neck and whispering praise and dark promises in my ear.

Only one dick could take my virginity. Maybe Jamison won a coin toss; I had no idea, but Boone wasn’t going to just sit on the sidelines and watch. No, he was actively involved. I could feel the hard press of his cock at my back, knew he’d have his turn next, but he was in on this whole virginity-taking thing too.

“Good girl. Watch, Kitten. Watch as that tight pussy swallows Jamison’s dick.”

Jamison had one hand on the headboard well over Boone’s head, the other between my legs, a finger sliding carefully around my entrance, those big lips down there that really did wrap around a dick.

My eyes flicked up to Jamison’s, his lids lowered, his jaw clenched. Sweat dripped down his temple. He was holding back. I could see the tense lines of his body, felt the careful thrusts, knew that this wasn’t normal, what he needed.

“More,” I told him. Yes, I was giving him my virginity, but both of us were in this. “I want this to be good for you, too.”

Jamison laughed, but it was jagged. “Kitten, if it were any better, I’d probably have an aneurysm.”

“Then why aren’t you moving harder? Deeper?”

Perhaps his hips moved of their own volition, but he slid in another inch and I felt the stretch, the burn of it and I hissed.

“That’s why. You’re so tight. So wet. You’re like a fist, a fucking vise.”