Page 124 of Stolen Faith
Brennon watched her, his gaze glued to the spot where his dick sank in and out of her mouth.
God, she could get lost in those soulful brown eyes of his and never want to be found.
Soon, they ramped up the play, Rowan’s thrusting tongue and stroking fingers moving faster, Brennon pushing more roughly into her mouth, taking even more.
She felt herself coming undone. Her breathing grew more labored as she struggled to take in enough air through her nose, and her motions grew less graceful.
For a moment, she had thought she was the one in control, driving her men to the brink, but now it was clear she’d been the one being claimed all along.
She groaned again, her body writhing under their joint labors.
“Next time, I’m going to lay down next to him,” Brennon proclaimed. “Both of us are going to fuck that pretty pussy with our mouths, our tongues, our teeth. Going to drive you crazy, out of your mind with lust, with need, until you’re begging for mercy.”
If her mouth hadn’t been so full, she would have screamed, “Yes!”
Izabel began sucking harder, working on instinct as she hollowed out her cheeks, reveling in Brennon’s grunts and curses. His fingers slid from her face into her hair, fisting it as he pumped his hips, driving himself into her, fucking her mouth.
He was close. God, so was she.
Izabel released Rowan’s dick, intent on returning after she’d pushed Brennon over. She cupped his balls once more and squeezed…just enough.
“Fuck, Iza,” Brennon gasped. “I’m going to…” He released his grip on her hair, no doubt giving her the choice to pull away if she didn’t want him to come in her mouth.
She growled around his dick, refusing the offer, the vibrations sounding his death knell as she sucked harder.
Brennon climaxed, come erupting, filling her mouth as Izabel swallowed it down.
Rowan, mercifully, backed off a bit. After a minute or so, Brennon pulled out, sinking back on his haunches, struggling to catch his breath.
“Big fan of seventy,” he joked. “I vote we put that in our regular sex rotation.”
Izabel started to respond, but all words, all thoughts were obliterated when Rowan pressed two fingers inside her pussy, his tongue on her clit.
“God!” she gasped, tilting her hips, pressing down low enough she worried for a minute she might suffocate him if she wasn’t careful.
Not that he seemed to mind.
“Tell me when she’s close, Brennon,” Rowan demanded, chuckling when she growled at the loss of his tongue on her clit.
She felt Brennon study her face and knew what he was seeing, flushed cheeks, her closed eyes, the way she bit her lip.
“I don’t know what you’re doing, but she fucking loves it,” Brennon said.
Izabel gyrated faster, riding Rowan’s face, her need overpowering any sense of decorum or control.
“Ahh,” Izabel cried out, when that first telltale tingle appeared.
“She’s there,” Brennon said.
“What the—” Izabel had expected Rowan to continue, to push her over the edge. Instead, he stopped completely. “Are you insane?”
“Lift her up,” Rowan demanded of Brennon, completely ignoring her complaint. “I want our sexy cowgirl to ride me.”
Reverse cowgirl.
They’d decided at the table they wanted both.
Brennon didn’t have to do much lifting because Izabel shifted herself, desperate for her denied orgasm. Moving down his body, not nearly as careful as she’d been at the beginning, she straddled Rowan’s hips and placed the head of his cock at her opening.