Page 11 of Heat Stroked

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I switch back to massaging her breast and lower my mouth to flick her nipple with my tongue. She gasps and one of her hands that had been straining against the cushion, fists in my hair, pushing my face into her pillowy mound.

I suck and caress, savoring her softness, the sweet taste of her skin, and the scent of her juices that are becoming more consuming by the moment. I can’t get a direct taste of her honey, but I love giving her a double dose of pleasure with Roarke.

Her body jerks, her moans go silent, and for a split second, I worry something’s wrong.

“Fuck!” She cries out, pulling me into her luscious breast. Roarke’s groans mix with hers as her climax peaks and ebbs. He slows his pace, meeting the pattern of her release.

When he pulls back, sitting on his heels, his mouth shines with her release, a damn badge of honor. The bar has been set. And I won’t be outdone.

His words from earlier, and the look he gave me, return to the forefront of my mind. He said this is all about her. I’ll honor that, for now, but my cock is dripping a steady line of pre-cum. I’ve never been so sure of my need to make love to a woman.

All about Caroline…I return my lips to hers but kiss gently, closed mouth, to keep my tongue from demanding too much. Between pecks, I ask, “Can you handle another one, or do you need to rest?”

“Keep ’em coming.” She chuckles weakly against my lips.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Roarke laughs at my choice of words. Sure, it was supposed to be funny, but my ego is struggling with his dominance. I don’t want to be second to him. I want to be strong and capable.

The proof is in the…pussy. Good thing I didn’t say that out loud. We reposition so I’m between her legs. I feel like a god sitting like this. Vying for something better than just an orgasm, I massage her feet. It relaxes her but it also buys time for any lingering effects of Roarke’s orgasm to pass.

“That feels so good.” She’s splayed and limp in front of me. I’m definitely a god.

Roarke circles the chair, winks at me, and massages her head. It’s his wink that clues me in. We’re not in competition. We’re a team, and she’s part of it. How does that work in the real world, past this night of drinks?

Once I’ve thoroughly massaged my way up her legs, I start planting kisses at her knees, working my way back to her sex.

Roarke shifts to her neck and shoulders. She’s blissed out. It does something to me. I keep my head angled to I can watch while I kiss up the other thigh. Giving someone this much pleasure and happiness completes me. There’s nothing more I could want than to keep Caroline this happy. She’d been so hesitant though.

Can we convince her that this could be normal? Is that even realistic with the excessive hours Roarke and I devote to the hospital? It’s who we are. It’s how we provide the best medical care to Peach Bottom Valley and afford the luxuries we could share with her. If we don’t put the hours in…now is not the time to be thinking about work.

I kiss my way onto her mound then take my first lick of her honey. Holy mother of all addictions. How did Roarke tear himself away from this?

With my fingers, I spread her lips so I can get a good look at her swollen pinkness. Why don’t more guys admit pink is their favorite color? I glance up at her nipples, that Roarke is now playing with. Oh yeah, such pretty pink. Her lips…that clenches it, other colors might as well not even exist.

Then I slide my tongue into her parted lips. My cock strains to the point of pain. Damn it. This is why Roarke subtly hinted we keep our pants on. Mother fucker.

She’s intoxicating. I keep my eyes up. Her breasts look even more full and huge from my angle. Roarke’s fingers imprinting in them while he teases and tugs, might as well be around my cock. Shit. My head’s not right. I want her hands around my cock, or her mouth, or her tits…any part ofher.

She bites her lower lip when I flick her clit with the tip of my tongue, and when I narrow it down moving my tongue back and forth quickly while sucking on her through a small space between my teeth, her moans kick into high gear.

I’m devoted, riding through her legs clamping around me as her cries escalate. She comes so hard, I drink her release. Fuck yeah. Giving her orgasms could be my life mission. I’m never going to be the same. Neither is Roarke’s chair.

Aware of her utterances and breaths, I draw out as much orgasm as possible. Time becomes irrelevant. If it stood still, I could suspend her in euphoria, and I still wouldn’t be able to make her happy for as long as she deserves.

But reality strikes when Roarke breaks into my trance. “You’re fucking beautiful when you come, Baby. Good thing you saidkeep ’em coming.”

“About that,” she says breathlessly. “I didn’t know they could be…like that. I need a break.”

With pride oozing from my pores, I wink at Roarke, who smiles and shakes his head.

“You need to relax from your relaxing?” I ask.

“Yeah, give me a minute.”

“Take all the time you need.”

“I’ll…you know…reciprocate.”


Tags: Sylvie Haas Erotic