Not Until You. Roni Loren

      Pike took a step closer, and my gaze drifted downward, tracing the hard line of the erection pressing against the front of his jeans. My sex clenched, my body aching to know what he’d feel like inside. I knew it would hurt tonight, was prepared for that. But the fear was quickly fading to a distant beat in the back of my brain. Need trumped that anxiety the moment Foster had put his mouth on me.

      Pike rubbed his palm over the bulge. “That’s what you do to me, doc. What you do to us.” He reached out and caressed my knee. “I could get off just seeing you like this.” He knelt down in front of me. “But I’d rather do more than look.”

      Foster adjusted his legs and pulled my thighs further apart, spreading me for Pike. I glanced down my body, seeing the hard points of my nipples, the glistening pink of my sex. Pike blew a gentle breath over my damp skin, sensitizing everything and making me shiver. “So wet and pretty already.”

      Then he lowered his head and put his mouth on me—hot, wet, and maddeningly gentle. I arched against Foster, and his sexy grunt pressed against my ear. “Don’t let go yet, angel. Let Pike tease you.”

      “But,” I gasped as Pike circled his tongue around my swollen nub, licking and laving. Everything inside me already felt ready to blow to bits. This was so much more than my own fingers or even my vibrator. “God, I’ve never…”

      “Have patience,” Foster murmured. “It’ll make it better. I promise you’re going to get to come. Many times.”

      I watched Pike’s pale blond head rock between my thighs, the sight one of the most erotic I’d ever experienced. He lifted his gaze, as if sensing my stare, and glided the flat of his tongue along my folds while holding the eye contact. I shuddered hard, the link almost too intense.

      Then he lowered his head again, and two fingers slid inside my soaked channel. The fit was deliciously snug. I whimpered and undulated against his hand and the intensifying pressure of his tongue. A surge of need built behind the dam inside me, pressing against the resistance I was trying to hold strong. My lids fell closed, and my hips began a rhythmic, involuntary rocking.

      “Ah, angel, that’s right. Fuck his mouth. Take what you need. God, you’re beautiful when you let go.”

      Foster’s dirty whispered words were a soundtrack from my most private fantasies. All I could do was moan in response, the canting of my hips picking up pace. Then Foster’s hands were cupping my breasts, holding me in place.

      “You want to go over, baby?” he asked, his voice raspy with grit.

      “Yes. Please…”

      “Beg Pike. Tell him what you need,” Foster commanded. He pinched my nipples, a swift erotic pain that made me cry out and go desperate for release.

      I squeezed my eyes shut, beyond embarrassment or shame. “Please, Pike. I need to come. Please.”

      Pike groaned and then his fingers were curling inside me, hitting a spot I’d heard of but had never been able to find myself. The world splintered behind my eyelids. I bowed off Foster, and my thighs clamped around Pike’s head as orgasm enveloped me. My cries sounded unfamiliar to my own ears—the abandon as foreign as the emotions coursing through me.

      I rode the wave of sensation until I was panting and writhing, edgy with both satisfaction and the need for more. Need for them. Pike eased back once I’d loosened my headlock on him, then he was climbing up the length of me. His mouth met mine in a lust-filled haze. My arms released Foster’s neck as the taste of Pike and my own arousal filled our kiss. Foster continued to tease my breasts, his hands trapped between my and Pike’s bodies, and he kissed my shoulder, my neck. Hungry. Wanting.

      Foster’s erection pressed against my bottom as he shifted forward. I wriggled against him even as I continued to kiss Pike. The swirl of sensations overtook me. I lost track of whose hand was where, whose scent filled my nose. It was both of them, all of them, coalescing into one heady moment.

      Pike pulled away, gasping for breath. “Fuck slow. Bedroom. Now.”

      “Agreed,” Foster growled.

      Pike pushed away from the couch, and Foster turned me into his arms, standing up and lifting me with him. I linked my arms around his neck again and caught his gaze. The stark need that filled those sea glass eyes seemed to reach inside me and twist everything into something new and different. Unrecognizable. I knew then that whatever happened next, I’d never be the same. Even if it was just this one night. This man would change me.

      Maybe already had.

      He carried me toward the bedroom, Pike ahead of us. And I tore my gaze away from Foster’s, the connection almost too powerful to bear. For the first time since walking in, I noticed the elegant creams and golds of the suite, the refined decor, the fresh flowers. Every detail had been finely attended to. It was romantic. And expensive. Fit for a honeymoon.

      Or a girl losing her virginity.

      “I’ve been imagining this for a long time,” Foster confessed as he stepped into the large bedroom.

      I smiled, warmth spreading through me, the feeling of rightness settling in my gut. “So have I, Foster.”

       So have I.

       Chapter 8

      Foster set me on my feet in the bedroom and didn’t let go until he made sure I was steady. He brushed my hair away from my face, his expression unreadable in the combination of soft lamplight and shadows. “Undress me.”

      It was a simple request, but hell if it didn’t make a ripple of Oh, my God, yes go through me. I lifted my hands, my fingers almost forgetting how to work as I reached for the buttons on his shirt. How many times had I pictured his naked body in my fantasies? When I’d hear Foster come in late, I’d lie there in bed, holding my breath and listening to the sounds he made. The TV turning on, the plunk of shoes coming off and hitting the floor. I’d imagine his clothes sliding off of him, the hard muscle and planes of his body coming into view. My eyes would shut and without pausing to think, I’d trace my hand down my belly, below the band of my panties, and pretend it was his touch instead of mine.

      As I reached the bottom button, Foster put a finger beneath my chin, tilting my face toward him. “What are you thinking about, angel?”

      In the corner of my eye, I saw Pike sit on the edge of the bed, his attention fixed on the two of us. Nerves crept in, making my skin go hot then clammy.

      I tried to look away from Foster, but he tapped my chin. “No you don’t. Look at me and tell me without filtering.”

      I forced my focus upward and tried to swallow past my parched throat. My cheeks burned hot—guilt and shame, my old Catholic friends, pumping through me. But I was not going to chicken out now. If I wanted people to stop treating me like I was a naive little girl, I needed to stop acting like one. “I was thinking about how many times I’ve touched myself while listening to you get undressed in your room, how many times I’ve imagined you naked.”

      His grip on my chin tightened, and his jaw flexed, the pleased look in his eye its own reward. “I think we’ve both imagined things long enough, don’t you?”

      “Yes, sir,” I said, the words quivery in the quiet room. This is going to happen. This is really going to happen.

      I pushed his shirt off his shoulders, letting my fingers travel over the ripples and dips of his pecs and shoulders. Hard muscle and hot skin. The shirt hit the floor, and I went to the button on his jeans, knowing that if I stopped moving, I’d start questioning myself. So without examining the urge, I lowered myself to my knees and pulled down the zipper. The thick outline of his erection pressed against the denim—intimidating and enticing all at once. I grabbed the waist of his pants and lowered them along with his boxer briefs. His cock slipped free, hard and heavy with arousal. I bit my lip so the gasp wouldn’t escape.

      I’d