Free Wild Nights by Jaci Burton Page A

thumbs making lazy, teasing circles around her pussy lips. She was wet, aching, needy.
    “Trust me. He cares.”
    She didn’t want Mike to care. Wasn’t that the problem? She was so confused.
    This whole thing wasn’t clearing her head like she thought it would. Instead, she was spread out and Denver was crawling between her legs and Mike was watching.
    And as Denver’s lips pressed up against her sex, his tongue parting her and licking against her clit, arousal flamed hot and she moaned, flipping on the button to open the audio between the two rooms. She wanted Mike to hear her, wanted him to be as close to her excitement as he could get.
    Yes, she was turned on now. But not because of what Denver was doing. Because Mike was watching, and she caught the telltale flicker of desire in his eyes. And dammit, she wanted him to want her, wanted him to want her so badly that the urge to tear through the window would be so great he’d have to use every ounce of his willpower to prevent himself from doing just that.
    Did he want her that much? She hoped so, because every flick of Denver’s tongue against her clit was Mike’s. His fingers sliding into her pussy were Mike’s fingers, and the orgasm bubbling up inside her was being brought about because she was locked on Mike’s deep blue eyes, not Denver’s brown ones.
    She hated this, but she couldn’t help herself. And when she couldn’t hold back, when Denver pressed his hand over her belly, his fingers pumping hard and furiously into her cunt, when his mouth latched onto her clit and sucked hard and she came, she bit back Mike’s name when she screamed, shuddering and crying out instead as waves of pleasure rocked her ass right off the couch.
    And not once did she tear her gaze from Mike’s. He didn’t move, or stop looking at her. Not when Denver dragged her to her feet and pulled her dress off, covering her breasts with his hands and then his lips, tugging at her nipples until they were wet and rigid. Not when he pulled her over the back of the sofa and jerked his pants down, grabbed a condom and shoved his cock in her, impaling her with a hard thrust that made her cry out in pain and pleasure.
    She wanted Mike behind her, fucking her like this, imagined his thick cock powering in and out of her with wild abandon, so hard it would make her hurt, bruising her with each driving thrust until she begged for more.
    She saw the slight lift of Mike’s chin, his nostrils flaring as Denver pushed into her so hard the couch scooted a few inches across the floor. She whimpered from the pleasure of it, but it was Mike giving her that enjoyment. Did he know that? Did he feel what she was going through, realize that she wanted him so much she could feel his cock inside her when another man was fucking her? Denver didn’t exist for her anymore. The other people watching weren’t there. There was only Mike and her, and the sweet pulsing of her pussy around the cock inside her.
    “Harder,” she said through gritted teeth, asking for more even though she couldn’t take more. But she wasn’t asking Denver for it.
    “I need you,” she pleaded. Did Mike understand? “Please.”
    She was panting now, mindless, wanting only the orgasm that hovered just out of her reach. “I need to come.” She gripped the fabric of the sofa, tightening her fingers around the pillows. “Please make me come.”
    And yet knowing how much she needed it, feeling Denver behind her, she held back, unwilling to give it to anyone else. Denver growled against her back, shuddering as he orgasmed, pumping hard against her. She cried out as he lifted her with a punishing final thrust, then collapsed against her.
    As soon as it was over, people filed out, onto the next activity, the next sex party—whatever thrilled them. Mike stayed, though. Denver pulled away, turned her around and kissed her forehead.
    “You’re an amazing woman, Grace.”
    She blinked her eyes closed for a second, then smiled up at