Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
She laughs breathlessly, leaning her head back against my chest, her fingers tightening on Nash’s bare shoulder. That little sound just about undoes me.
Nash meets my eyes over her shoulder, and the message is clear: You ready?
I was born ready.
Grace turns in Nash’s arms to face me, cheeks flushed, eyes bright and full of something between wonder and wickedness. I take her by the hips, guiding her backward onto the bed with a soft thump. She stares up at us, wild hair fanned out, breathing like she ran across the whole damn pasture.
Nash shoves his pajama pants down and kicks them aside. I follow suit, kicking off my boots, stripping my shirt, and discarding my jeans as I crawl onto the bed beside her. She watches every move like she’s memorizing it, biting her lip.
“You’re so damned beautiful,” Nash says, his hand skimming her thigh.
“My cousin’s not wrong,” I murmur against her shoulder. My hand slips under her jaw, tilting her face up so I can see her heat, her trust, and her hunger, and I swear, I could lose myself right here. In her. In this.
We start real slow. My fingers work the hem of her top, sliding it up over her ribs, baring that soft skin inch by inch. Nash kisses Grace again, deeper now, and I interrupt only to slide the thin fabric up and off, tossing it onto the floor.
We both stare for a beat.
“Damn,” I murmur. “You’re somethin’ else, sugar.”
Nash bends to take her nipple into his mouth, and her back arches right up off the mattress. Her fingers reach for my dick, but I ease her hands away with a grin and whisper, “Patience, darlin’. We ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
We worship her. That’s the only word for it. Nash kisses down her stomach while I stroke and tease every place that makes her moan and writhe between us. Her legs tremble, her hands fisting in the sheets.
I keep what Levi told me at the front of my mind. How she struggles to relax into pleasure. How he had to coax it from her with slow focus and praise. While Nash licks her pretty pussy, I play with her nipples and press my mouth to her ear so I can whisper to her all the things she needs to hear.
“You’re so pretty, Gracie. So perfect. Look at you with your legs spread and my cousin’s tongue between your legs. You love it, don’t you? You love two men touching you, tasting you. You love being our good girl. Our precious girl.”
She sighs, and her whole body seems to melt into the bed as she grips Nash’s hair.
I continue. “Come, Gracie. Let go. You can do it, precious girl. You’re right there, right on the edge, trembling, panting, ready to give Nash all your sweetness. Let him taste you. Let him feel you convulse around his fingers. Give it to us. Let us see.”
She gasps, stiffening as Nash moans, and I squeeze her breast, pinching her nipple in the rhythm of Nash’s tongue. “That’s it. Good girl. You’re doing it. You’re coming. So pretty. So perfect. So right for us.”
I watch her fall apart, and I swear I’ve never been so hard in my life.
“Look at that, Nash,” I say, brushing the sweat-damp hair from her cheek. “She’s already boneless. And we ain’t even started yet.”
Grace surprises the hell out of me when she rolls over, pushing me gently to sit back against the comforter. Her hands trail down my chest, nails scraping in a way that makes my breath hitch. Nash watches from beside me, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded, his muscles coiled.
“I want to take care of you both,” she whispers, kissing along my jaw. “Let me.”
Hell, what man’s gonna say no to that? I lean back, resting my hands behind my head, watching as she slides down between us.
Nash groans as she palms him, and when her hand wraps around me next, I damn near see stars. She works us both with slow, wicked confidence, switching between us, teasing, tasting, licking. When she takes me deep in her throat, her eyes holding mine the whole time, I have to fist the comforter to stop myself from reaching out and grabbing her hair. It’s messy, hot as sin, and the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart,” I grit out, hips jerking when she takes me deeper.
Nash lets out a sharp curse under his breath, his hand sliding into her hair, guiding her gently but firmly as she switches back to him.
“Fuck, Grace,” he rasps. “You’re perfect.”
I watch her lick him, swirling her tongue around the head, then swallowing him deep, her lips slick and swollen, and I know right then we ain’t ever gonna be the same after this. None of us.