hands were at her hips then, his fingers lowering the zipper of the low-rise jeans.
The band was too low, she thought inanely. Once the zipper had completely lowered—
Keiley whimpered as Jethro's tongue licked at her lips and his hands peeled back the edges of her jeans.
"No!"
Where she found the strength to tear away, she wasn't certain. The impulse slammed inside her as a wave of pleasure nearly took her to her knees and a millisecond later she was backing away from them, shaking her head, fighting to breathe.
"No," she snapped again, staring at Mac and seeing a stranger.
A stranger who stared at her with her husband's eyes. Eyes heavy with arousal, love, and regret.
"Good night, Jethro," Mac said as he began to walk toward her. "We'll see you in the morning."
The intent was there in his face. He was a conqueror. He was the ravisher. His expression assured her that it didn't matter whether Jethro joined them or not—tonight he would have his wife.
"You think you just can just give another man leave to touch me and then drag me to bed?" Keiley stared back at him in outrage. "Have you taken leave of your senses, Mac?"
Had she taken leave of hers? Because this new side of Mac was making her hotter than hell.
"Pretty much," he announced a second before he stepped to her, picked her up, and tossed her over his shoulder before leaving the room
Her last glimpse of Jethro was the wicked amusement glittering in his eyes a second before Mac headed up the stairs.
"You are so going to get your ass kicked," she snarled as she hung over his shoulder.
"Probably."
"I mean it, Mac. This is not happening."
"Of course it is," he grunted. "Stop deluding yourself. And stop pretending you're not hotter than hell. I'm amazed your jeans aren't damp from the juices spilling from your pussy."
"Asshole," she snarled.
Unfortunately, he was right in one respect. She was hotter than hell. But wrong in the other. She believed her jeans just might be damp after all.
Once he stepped into the bedroom, he didn't bother just setting her on the floor. The next thing she knew she was on her back and Mac was jerking her sandals off before pulling her jeans down her legs and discarding them.
Just that quick. That fast. Her jeans and panties were on the floor and her husband was kneeling at the side of the bed, his tongue swiping through the saturated folds between her thighs.
"Oh God! Mac!" She screamed his name as his tongue thrust inside her, licking over tissue so sensitive that he caused an avalanche of sensations to pile upon her.
Wicked heat. Electric pleasure. Fiery, intense, brutal desire.
Her hips jerked up, grinding her clit against his lips as she gasped for breath. Her hands locked in his hair, holding him to her as her legs twined around his shoulders.
It was so damned good. Better than ever. It was like the first time. The last time and all the times in between combined in one caress. All the pleasure she had ever known in her life and more was coming.
Because his fingers gripped her rear while one wicked thumb began to press and massage the forbidden entrance below.
It was wicked and wild, and when she felt her juices being smoothed onto the area, his thumb pressing in each time to lubricate the area, she lost her mind.
It was the only excuse for allowing it. It was forbidden, a touch she had never known before, and she wasn't protesting. She had lost her mind, that was the only excuse.
A second later the lubrication was cooler, thicker. How had he done that? Managed to secure the lubricating jelly he kept in his bedside drawer without her knowing it?
And who cared, but suddenly his thumb was stretching her anal entrance, burning her, filling her where no one had ever touched before and sending her senses exploding in an orgasm that ripped her head off and still left her begging for more.
"Are you scared now, Kei?" he growled against her clit, his tongue licking around it, building the pressure once again as two
The band was too low, she thought inanely. Once the zipper had completely lowered—
Keiley whimpered as Jethro's tongue licked at her lips and his hands peeled back the edges of her jeans.
"No!"
Where she found the strength to tear away, she wasn't certain. The impulse slammed inside her as a wave of pleasure nearly took her to her knees and a millisecond later she was backing away from them, shaking her head, fighting to breathe.
"No," she snapped again, staring at Mac and seeing a stranger.
A stranger who stared at her with her husband's eyes. Eyes heavy with arousal, love, and regret.
"Good night, Jethro," Mac said as he began to walk toward her. "We'll see you in the morning."
The intent was there in his face. He was a conqueror. He was the ravisher. His expression assured her that it didn't matter whether Jethro joined them or not—tonight he would have his wife.
"You think you just can just give another man leave to touch me and then drag me to bed?" Keiley stared back at him in outrage. "Have you taken leave of your senses, Mac?"
Had she taken leave of hers? Because this new side of Mac was making her hotter than hell.
"Pretty much," he announced a second before he stepped to her, picked her up, and tossed her over his shoulder before leaving the room
Her last glimpse of Jethro was the wicked amusement glittering in his eyes a second before Mac headed up the stairs.
"You are so going to get your ass kicked," she snarled as she hung over his shoulder.
"Probably."
"I mean it, Mac. This is not happening."
"Of course it is," he grunted. "Stop deluding yourself. And stop pretending you're not hotter than hell. I'm amazed your jeans aren't damp from the juices spilling from your pussy."
"Asshole," she snarled.
Unfortunately, he was right in one respect. She was hotter than hell. But wrong in the other. She believed her jeans just might be damp after all.
Once he stepped into the bedroom, he didn't bother just setting her on the floor. The next thing she knew she was on her back and Mac was jerking her sandals off before pulling her jeans down her legs and discarding them.
Just that quick. That fast. Her jeans and panties were on the floor and her husband was kneeling at the side of the bed, his tongue swiping through the saturated folds between her thighs.
"Oh God! Mac!" She screamed his name as his tongue thrust inside her, licking over tissue so sensitive that he caused an avalanche of sensations to pile upon her.
Wicked heat. Electric pleasure. Fiery, intense, brutal desire.
Her hips jerked up, grinding her clit against his lips as she gasped for breath. Her hands locked in his hair, holding him to her as her legs twined around his shoulders.
It was so damned good. Better than ever. It was like the first time. The last time and all the times in between combined in one caress. All the pleasure she had ever known in her life and more was coming.
Because his fingers gripped her rear while one wicked thumb began to press and massage the forbidden entrance below.
It was wicked and wild, and when she felt her juices being smoothed onto the area, his thumb pressing in each time to lubricate the area, she lost her mind.
It was the only excuse for allowing it. It was forbidden, a touch she had never known before, and she wasn't protesting. She had lost her mind, that was the only excuse.
A second later the lubrication was cooler, thicker. How had he done that? Managed to secure the lubricating jelly he kept in his bedside drawer without her knowing it?
And who cared, but suddenly his thumb was stretching her anal entrance, burning her, filling her where no one had ever touched before and sending her senses exploding in an orgasm that ripped her head off and still left her begging for more.
"Are you scared now, Kei?" he growled against her clit, his tongue licking around it, building the pressure once again as two
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