He cheated i chose two firefighters novel Chapter 97

Chapter 97 Overwhelming Hotness

Scar’s POV

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Is it actually possible for a person to suddenly catch fire from sheer, overwhelming hotness? I mean, GOOD GRAVY, the intensity is just… WOW. I am an incredibly fortunate young woman.

I leave my mother at the door of my own condo. She wishes to soak away the fatigue of the afternoon’s shopping. When I step into the other condo, the air is still. I expect to find my guys, my father and Uncle Hale, but the space is empty. The kitchen holds only silence. They have gone.

I move toward the bedroom.

The shower is running. Steam curls from the slight gap in the bathroom doorway. I push it open just enough to see inside, and the breath stills in my chest.

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They are there, inside the glass enclosure. A cloud of steam wraps around their forms, the door fogged

with condensation. They are kis

y lost in one another. Their

hands move in unison, stroking

thm. I cannot move. I can only watch. It is a perfect, private violence, a beautiful collision. Arousal blooms low in my belly, a sudden, soaking heat. My panties grow damp against my skin.

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I undress right there in the doorway, my clothes pooling at my feet. Still, I cannot step forward. I am

riveted.

The muscles in their backs and arms shift and cord as their hands work. Soft sighs and low, hungry moans escape them as their mouths part and meet again, tongues tracing a wet, desperate map.

My own hand rises of its own accord, finds my left breast, my nipple. I pinch it, roll the tight bud between my fingers. A sharp, sweet jolt of pleasure arrows through me. My breath hitches. My other hand slides down, over my belly, into the slick heat between my legs. My fingers trace my own wet slit, a slow, teasing caress as I lean against the doorframe, watching my men lose themselves in each

other.

Then Jace sinks to his knees on the shower floor.

His tongue flicks out, catching the bead of moisture at the tip of Milo’s cock. Milo’s head falls back against the tile, a groan tearing from his throat as Jace opens his mouth and takes him in. Milo’s hands fist in Jace’s wet hair. I watch, transfixed, as Jace’s head begins to move, a steady, loving rhythm. He takes him deeper, his throat working, until Milo is sheathed completely. Milo’s hips push forward, a slow, measured thrust, feeding himself into that wet heat.

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My own fingers move faster, circling my clit in rough, urgent patterns. My free hand plucks and pinches at my nipples, alternating between them, the pleasure a bright, twin ache. My body is a coiled

spring, tightening, begging. The air saws in and out of my lungs. The world narrows to this: the visual feast before me, the building pressure inside me.

I just want to watch. I want to see Jace take all of him. I want to see Milo come apart.

It is the most erotic thing I have ever witnessed.

A whimper escapes my lips. The first trembling threads of my orgasm begin to pull taut deep within. This will wreck me. I leave my breast, plunging two fingers inside myself, fucking myself with them as my other hand flutters desperately over my clit.

Milo’s movements grow frantic. His hands grip Jace’s face, his hips pumping, driving himself in and

out of that willing mouth. His moans become raw, guttural sounds.

Milo throws his head back, his body bowing, a shout ripped from his chest as he pours himself down

Jace’s throat.

At that exact moment, my own climax detonates.

It slams into me, a wave of pure, obliterating sensation. I cry out, my body convulsing against the

doorjamb.

Strong, wet arms encircle me, lifting me from my feet. Jace is there, having left the shower in an

instant, finally aware of my presence. He carries me to the bed, lays me down on the cool coverlet. He

climbs over me, his body dripping, his eyes dark and wild. He hooks my right leg over his shoulder,

positions himself, and in one fierce, unbroken motion, he sheathes himself inside me to the hilt.

He begins to move, and there is no restraint left in him. His thrusts are relentless, punishing, perfect.

Animal grunts become low, possessive growls. His gaze spears into mine, and the lust I see there is a physical brand.

“You feel so fucking good,” he grits out, his voice ragged. “You’re my good girl, Scar. Always so wet. Always ready for me. For us.” He drives into me, the friction exquisite. “God, you’re tight. Your pussy is

like hot velvet.”

He leans forward, dropping my leg, catching my weight in the crook of his arms, and crushes his

mouth to mine.

When he breaks the kiss, his words are a fervent prayer against my lips. “You’re so beautiful. I love you so damn much. I can’t get enough of you.” He punctuates each phrase with a deep, claiming thrust. “Baby, I want to live inside you.”

His pace quickens, turning brutal, and I crave every second of it. My body arches off the bed, back

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bowing, and I shatter again. My second orgasm erupts like a firework, shaking me apart, my release flooding from me, coating Jace, soaking the sheets beneath us.

“That’s it,” he groans, his rhythm stuttering. “Give it to me. All that sweet goodness.”

With a final, snarling thrust, he tears himself from my body.

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