The beautiful view of Kyra only fed fuel to the fire. He couldn’t tell what about her he found so enthralling, only that right now, he stared at perfection. In fact, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Something he definitely hadn’t felt in some time. Not since his high school sweetheart. The same woman who dumped him on his ass when he told her he wanted to have a threesome.
After a long, slow pull on his cock, Kyra released him and grinned. Her gaze flicked from him to Smith as she jerked them off with fluid strokes of her hands. “Two are definitely more fun than one.” With a wicked glint in her eye, she once again devoured Smith, and his loud grunts followed.
Brock might have missed that mouth, if her hand wasn’t equally as talented. Kitten was a multitasker. She had no issues keeping up the sensual strokes on his cock as her head bobbed on Smith.
Hearing the sounds of Smith’s pleasure next to him, Brock couldn’t stop himself from running a finger over her shoulder, needing to touch her. Craving beyond anything he would even dare to control, he yearned to feel the silkiness of her flawless flesh calling to him.
When he trailed his finger against her silky skin, feeling perfection under his touch, she mistook it for an order and moved away from Smith. He shook his head. “Keep on Smith, Kitten.” He hadn’t meant to distract her, but he’d been compelled to put his hand on her body.
Brock couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so motivated to feel a woman more than to merely take pleasure in her. It’d been years since he had anything he’d call a relationship, and he was perfectly content with that decision.
He hadn’t met a woman he could not only trust wasn’t with him for his money, but also accepted his sexual preferences. Yet, he experienced a draw to Kyra, a pull he couldn’t understand, and one forceful enough he wouldn’t run from it.
The sounds of Smith’s harsh inhale snapped him out of his thoughts, and he blinked into focus, watching Kyra release Smith’s cock. She turned her head and devoured Brock’s dick. Her tongue wrapped underneath, her lips slid over his shaft, and he threw his head back with a long groan.
When she moved her tongue around his cockhead, he looked to her, noticing Smith stepping away from her. They had shared enough women that Brock understood Smith’s desire to take things a step further. And well, he also experienced Smith’s urgency; this woman was the most fuckable thing he’d ever seen.
While he moved away from Kyra’s mouth, she remained on her knees, giving him a cute quizzical look. Brock winked before he approached the leather chair near the coffee table as Smith grabbed his pants off the floor and took out his wallet.
Brock smiled, dropping down into the chair, the cool leather easing his overhe
ated skin. With his gaze zeroed in on Kyra, he crooked a finger. “Come to me, kitten.”
A sexy smile curved her mouth as she crawled toward him. For a woman who adamantly rejected BDSM, she didn’t seem to mind some of the light play that went along with the lifestyle. Brock suspected if he pointed out she had crawled to him, she’d bash him down with a lecture, but he knew well enough her mindset was more on sexual exploration.
Kyra had crawled because she knew it’d be sexy.
She was right—it made him burn.
Settling in between Brock’s spread legs, she ran her hands up his thighs with a wicked twinkle in her eyes, when Smith called, “Not kneeling, Kyra, on your feet.”
She glanced over her shoulder, and Brock heard the hitch in her breath. He followed her gaze and noticed Smith putting on a condom, explaining why her hands were trembling against his legs, in what Brock assumed was anticipation mixed with excitement.
Smith applied the condom, and when he approached them, he tossed a foil package, which Brock caught. Kyra turned to Brock and once again swallowed him whole. Continuing to suck him off, she rose to her feet. Brock didn’t wait; he reached up and pulled her bra cups underneath her breasts, letting her spectacular tits hang out.
He loved a naked woman, yet Kyra had gone to the trouble to dress up for them, and he appreciated her lingerie. He had no doubt if she stood, her breasts would look incredible with the lace underneath. Besides, he hoped to draw out their bet tonight.
In fact, he was already thinking of setting up another night.
When Smith settled in behind her, Kyra’s mouth became more urgent on Brock’s cock. Smith placed a hand on her back and angled her hips, placing Brock’s raging hard-on farther into her throat. A groan, deep and low, hummed from his throat.
Every swipe of her lips, feel of her tongue along his shaft, and pressure she set with her hand tightened his muscles. With clenched fists, all he could do was admire the beauty going wild on his cock, her long black hair curtaining his thighs. Her lips tightened, so Brock glanced up to a smirking Smith.
“I like you wet, Kyra,” Smith said.
She inhaled a sharp breath through her nose as Smith fingered her, bringing her into no doubt another mind-blowing orgasm. Though Smith’s smart-ass grin declared his intention was more than to make Kyra wet, he had gotten in the first point.
Dipshit.
Loud moans drifted around Brock as Kyra’s mouth popped off the head of his cock and she rested above him. Her eyes were closed and her lips parted as she trembled against him, clearly suffering the aftershocks of her climax.
Brock looked to Smith and mouthed, Fucker.
Smith inclined his head, his eyes shining in victory.
Brock had to up his game.
Kyra’s long exhale drew him to her. Her eyes were fixed on him, her dark pupils captivating him. Some women looked pretty after they climaxed, but Kyra…a beautiful sunset had nothing on her.