The Girlfriend (The Boss 2) - Page 72
There was something bizarrely clinical about the whole thing— maybe it was the gloves—, and that only made it seem naughtier. Before I’d propositioned Neil for no-strings sex, I had always kept up the pretext of a relationship with my partners. I would go on a date, then have sex. Or it would be one of those, “Oh, I asked you over to watch a movie as friends and look what organically occurred!” situations, in which both people knew sex was going to happen, but didn’t admit it openly.
This was all sex. No pretext. I felt more desired than I had ever felt, knowing that.
Neil watched us, leaning back in his chair with one ankle on the opposite knee. In the mirror behind him, I saw Emir’s hands touch me at the same time I registered the feeling. He gently spread me, revealing the tight red nub of my clitoris. One gloved fingertip gently probed me there, and my breath hitched at the contact. Slowly, he slipped his finger down to my vagina and pushed it slightly in.
“I like this,” he said with a chuckle of admiration as he lifted his hand, rubbing my fluid between his thumb and forefinger.
Then his finger returned to my clit and circled it with barely any pressure, and I couldn’t think straight. I moved my hips in small circles, and he pinched, gently increasing pressure as he held me.
“Oh,” I whimpered, catching my bottom lip between my teeth.
“You like that?” Emir asked quietly.
“Yes. Mhm.” I rocked my hips beneath his hand.
Emir looked up to Neil and nodded. “She is lovely. Is she collared?”
Neil’s expression shifted subtly, but I couldn’t tell what it meant. I didn’t really know what collared meant. I was a little distracted by the pressure of Emir’s fingers, and the sudden rolling motion they had picked up.
“Not collared but we’re... exclusive.” The corner of Neil’s mouth twitched.
How could they have a conversation at a time like this? I felt Emir’s erection against my side through his trousers, and the knowledge that he was turned on pulled a throaty groan and another flood of wetness from me.
Well, that and the finger he slid into my cunt, rubbing around my opening, searching for my g-spot. As good as he was with his hands, it took him a moment to find it, and I thought of how well Neil knew my body, how easily he found all the right spots when he touched me.
There was something to be said for monogamous, long-term relationships. Not that Neil and I were long-term yet, but we’d learned each other’s bodies well. Being with someone else wasn’t just exciting, but it made me appreciate my sex life with Neil even more.
When Emir found the spot, he pushed up, harder than Neil would have, and I made a mental note about how much I liked it, to suggest it later. I curled up from Emir’s lap, my body going tight as he rolled my clit with the other hand.
Neil held my gaze, exuding a dark, hot energy. What was going on in his head? One hand rested against his cheek, his index finger against his temple. His expression was unreadable.
If he liked being jealous, then I would do my damnedest to make him jealous. I didn’t fake the breathy moans that escaped me, or the way my legs twisted and kicked helplessly as Emir touched me. But I didn’t hold back, either. I let Neil know exactly how much I enjoyed having another man get me off.
It was too much. The excitement and the forbidden aspect of what I was doing with this man, with these two men, sent red-hot pulses to meet Emir’s fingers. I clutched at his jacket, clung to him and howled as I came, pouring into his hand, clenching down hard on his fingers.
He hissed in surprise, then laughed, his chin nuzzling the top of my head. He caught me to support me and murmured, “I could have come just then, feeling you.”
I couldn’t think. I could barely breathe. My cunt still fluttered with aftershocks, and a crashing sense of what I had just done invaded every part of my brain. Words like “slut” and “whore” came to mind, but they didn’t shame me. They only stoked the fire hotter. I wanted to fuck Neil, right now, right here in this room.
I guess I was more of an exhibitionist than I’d thought I was.
Emir helped me to my feet and stripped off his gloves, then reached for an antibacterial wipe from the table to clean his hands.
“Tell the gentleman thank you, Chloe,” Neil prompted, inserting some manners into my foggy brain. He was so still and calm, my pulse leapt into my throat. Something was going to happen tonight because of this. Emir was only a prelude.
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