Addiction (Bayfront Billionaires)

“You can keep my nipples hard,” she told him. “Or you,” she said to Tristan. “No accessories needed.”

“My hands are going to be full.” Tristan’s expression turned downright sizzling.

Taunting her. Tempting her.

Still . . .

“Tristan,” Liv said again in protest.

“Shh. I haven’t done anything yet.” He moved in closer and his tongue curled around the taut center of her breast, toying with it. He suckled, then his teeth scraped over the peak and her hips bucked in response.

With his finger and thumb, he rolled her nipple, pebbling it tighter.

“Ready?” His warm breath teased her skin and made her shiver.

A peculiar err slipped from her parted lips. Not quite a no, not quite a yes.

Eagerness tinged his chuckle. “I’ll be careful.” He tenderly attached the clamp.

Liv gasped from the bite, but she’d barely pulled in a breath when the smarting turned into a titillating tingle.

“Okay?” he asked as he watched her succumb to the foreign sensation that turned the pulsating within her to a full-blown ache. A needy, desperate one.

“Ohhhh . . .” she sighed. “Yes. Definitely, yes.” Warmth flooded her cheeks at her wanton reaction. She could instantly classify nipple clamps as yet another guilty pleasure.

Tristan flashed a triumphant grin before he paid her other nipple the same attention and secured it with the tiny clip. She knew what to expect this time, and the sting didn’t register quite as much because she was anticipating the delicious impending prickle.

Another light gust drifted over the deck. It caused the feathers to brush against Liv’s highly sensitized skin and the clamps to pull ever so slightly o

n the taut centers of her breasts, heightening her arousal.

So, too, did Nate moving in to join them. He propped his knee on the cushion beside her and bent his head to her chest, the very tip of his tongue flitting over Liv’s nipple. She wanted to scream from the flaming sensations instantly raging through her.

Her inner muscles clenched. “Tristan,” she whispered, no trace of protest this time. “Do something.”

He rocked back on his heels, still feasting on her, devouring her with a look. His jaw tightened. In that instant, Liv saw something very dark and powerful grip him.

She did more than make him hot. She was confined to this deck and spread wide for him. She was fully exposed. Primed for him. Ready for him.

And in his eyes, she caught his unmistakable need—to possess her.

The hard angles of his sculpted face told Liv that something more animalistic and innate drove him—like never before, like nothing they’d experienced before. Pleasure certainly fringed his motivations, but his sudden territorial nature was a dominant force, and she got the distinct impression he intended to own her. Completely, mercilessly.

The way Nate had numerous times with his more aggressive nature.

She couldn’t pull in a full breath. Tristan’s sudden raw intensity was riveting—and had her crazed with anticipation.

Their gazes locked and she was mesmerized. The primitive heat and desire flaring in his eyes made it impossible for her to remain focused on anything other than his obvious mounting passion—which she longed for him to unleash on her.

“Fuck me,” she said.

Nate shifted off of the bench seat as Tristan toed off his shoes and shucked his pants, boxer briefs, and socks. Now he was gloriously naked and she was even wetter than before.

She’d shared intimate moments with Nate days before. Now Liv wanted her time with Tristan.

Before she had both of them.

Nate seemed to innately understand this and didn’t intervene. Tristan sheathed himself with a condom and then he was between her parted legs, one knee alongside her hip. One of his hands gripped the ledge behind her head, the other cupped her ass. He sank into her and Liv cried out, no longer caring who the hell heard her.