humor behind it.
“Not funny.” She arched into another smack, her breath catching on a small gasp. “It makes me so damn lucky. Buy-lotto-tickets lucky. Leap-for-the-stars lucky.”
“You’re already a star,” Daniel said before taking her mouth again.
God, they kissed like they were dying for each other. Like they knew every bit, every secret, and still wanted more.
Remy coiled the belt around his hand. The biting leather was a reassurance. A reminder. He had a task, and fuck if it wasn’t a good one. Yet Naya and Daniel had one another all the time. Remy only got this one night. Maybe a couple more if his luck held, but good things disappeared from his life.
“This is it, chère .” He petted from her nape to the sweet, low curve of her back. She stretched into his touch. “One more burst. When I count down from five to one, you’re done. That’s it for the night. Daniel, you keep your hands in her hair. Pull tight.”
Daniel’s gaze flicked to Remy. Full of fight and fire. His lips parted. That pale brown, almost blond hair was slicked with sweat at his hairline. His masculine beauty was in the quirk of his lips, the expressive angle of his lean cheeks, and the narrow gleam of his gaze. He nestled his hands deeper into Naya’s hair and made loose fists. “Like this?”
“Harder.”
He clenched. Her neck bent back, and she hissed.
Remy caressed her nape below the edge of Daniel’s hands. “Perfect. Good boy,” he couldn’t help but purr.
Daniel didn’t protest like Remy had expected. His gaze cut into Remy, half-lidded. Waiting.
Obeying.
Remy let loose a stream of blows, machine-gun fast. The rapid patter drew sharp sobs from Naya. She heaved with full-body shudders. Christ, too much and too quick and she was just fucking perfect because Remy hit that hyper-focused level and Jesus, he needed to bring them down.
Fast.
“Five, four, three, two.” With his arm jerking on the last smack and the belt biting into his palm, he growled the last count. “One!”
Naya’s sobs exploded into a keening scream. Daniel’s grip steadied her, held her still except for her kicking feet. Remy dropped the belt and stepped behind her. He locked his calves around the outside of her ankles, but there was no fighting that arching, pulling ball of energy she’d become.
“Good, chère . Perfect. There, you let everything go.”
“Fucking hell, Sir,” she said on a sob. “Oh, Christos . Daniel.”
“I’m right here.” He pressed small kisses across her cheekbones, which were dappled with tears, then nipped down to her chin and mouth. “I’m here for you.”
Remy coasted his hands over her back, where the skin was fire and new textures. She was marked. There were speckles and welts. He bent down and slid his lips over the worst ones, just below her shoulder bones. “We’re both here. You lean on your man, chère . He’s earned it. You both have. That was beautiful.”
She was still sobbing, though they were tapering off to little hiccups and sniffles. It had always been one of Remy’s worst perversions that he liked it so much when a girl cried. Especially when her pussy was as wet as Naya’s. He traced her lower lips.
She was mostly smooth but for a dark patch of curls at the top of her mound. He delved between with one finger and kept his other hand on her spine, pressing the worst of her marks. She was hot as fuck at both ends. Matching fire.
He stroked his middle finger in and out, stopping occasionally to tease with circles that never quite touched her clit. She didn’t seem to notice, while all he waited for was the moment when she would.
Her eyes went wide. She breathed Daniel’s name again. Her hands found purchase in her fiancé’s shoulders. She had short nails that she crammed into Daniel’s neck. He didn’t flinch. He kissed her.
“Daniel, he’s touching me. He might make me come. Fast.”
Daniel stared hard at Remy. Surprise lived in his gaze, along with a truckload
“Not funny.” She arched into another smack, her breath catching on a small gasp. “It makes me so damn lucky. Buy-lotto-tickets lucky. Leap-for-the-stars lucky.”
“You’re already a star,” Daniel said before taking her mouth again.
God, they kissed like they were dying for each other. Like they knew every bit, every secret, and still wanted more.
Remy coiled the belt around his hand. The biting leather was a reassurance. A reminder. He had a task, and fuck if it wasn’t a good one. Yet Naya and Daniel had one another all the time. Remy only got this one night. Maybe a couple more if his luck held, but good things disappeared from his life.
“This is it, chère .” He petted from her nape to the sweet, low curve of her back. She stretched into his touch. “One more burst. When I count down from five to one, you’re done. That’s it for the night. Daniel, you keep your hands in her hair. Pull tight.”
Daniel’s gaze flicked to Remy. Full of fight and fire. His lips parted. That pale brown, almost blond hair was slicked with sweat at his hairline. His masculine beauty was in the quirk of his lips, the expressive angle of his lean cheeks, and the narrow gleam of his gaze. He nestled his hands deeper into Naya’s hair and made loose fists. “Like this?”
“Harder.”
He clenched. Her neck bent back, and she hissed.
Remy caressed her nape below the edge of Daniel’s hands. “Perfect. Good boy,” he couldn’t help but purr.
Daniel didn’t protest like Remy had expected. His gaze cut into Remy, half-lidded. Waiting.
Obeying.
Remy let loose a stream of blows, machine-gun fast. The rapid patter drew sharp sobs from Naya. She heaved with full-body shudders. Christ, too much and too quick and she was just fucking perfect because Remy hit that hyper-focused level and Jesus, he needed to bring them down.
Fast.
“Five, four, three, two.” With his arm jerking on the last smack and the belt biting into his palm, he growled the last count. “One!”
Naya’s sobs exploded into a keening scream. Daniel’s grip steadied her, held her still except for her kicking feet. Remy dropped the belt and stepped behind her. He locked his calves around the outside of her ankles, but there was no fighting that arching, pulling ball of energy she’d become.
“Good, chère . Perfect. There, you let everything go.”
“Fucking hell, Sir,” she said on a sob. “Oh, Christos . Daniel.”
“I’m right here.” He pressed small kisses across her cheekbones, which were dappled with tears, then nipped down to her chin and mouth. “I’m here for you.”
Remy coasted his hands over her back, where the skin was fire and new textures. She was marked. There were speckles and welts. He bent down and slid his lips over the worst ones, just below her shoulder bones. “We’re both here. You lean on your man, chère . He’s earned it. You both have. That was beautiful.”
She was still sobbing, though they were tapering off to little hiccups and sniffles. It had always been one of Remy’s worst perversions that he liked it so much when a girl cried. Especially when her pussy was as wet as Naya’s. He traced her lower lips.
She was mostly smooth but for a dark patch of curls at the top of her mound. He delved between with one finger and kept his other hand on her spine, pressing the worst of her marks. She was hot as fuck at both ends. Matching fire.
He stroked his middle finger in and out, stopping occasionally to tease with circles that never quite touched her clit. She didn’t seem to notice, while all he waited for was the moment when she would.
Her eyes went wide. She breathed Daniel’s name again. Her hands found purchase in her fiancé’s shoulders. She had short nails that she crammed into Daniel’s neck. He didn’t flinch. He kissed her.
“Daniel, he’s touching me. He might make me come. Fast.”
Daniel stared hard at Remy. Surprise lived in his gaze, along with a truckload
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