Chapter 130: Jack-Eye: Clean Your Dirty Mouth

JACK-EYE

I have no idea what I’m doing.

Not that I’d ever admit it out loud. I’ve had my share of women—more than my share, if we’re being honest—but this is different. Lyre wants something more. Something with teeth and edges. A dominance running deeper than two bodies colliding.

Her ass is pink from my hand, a perfect handprint streaked across her creamy skin. She’s still on all fours, legs spread just enough to give me a cock-throbbing view. She’s wet—slick and glistening—and every instinct in my body screams to just drive into her, claim her, make her mine.

But no. First things first. Stop getting distracted, Jack-Eye.

I turn abruptly, walking away from the bed and her perfect ass. From the bathroom, I grab one of those wrapped plastic cups they leave by the sink and fill it with water from the tap. When I come back, she’s sitting up on her heels, a slight frown creasing her forehead. The sight of her naked and waiting makes me want to toss the cup over my shoulder and force her pretty little mouth onto my cock, to feel the heaven she already bestowed upon the damn twitchy wizard, but I keep my expression neutral.

"Drink," I thrust the cup into her hand, my voice a little rougher and deeper than I mean for it to be.

One eyebrow arches perfectly. "You left me alone for this?" The sarcasm drips from her voice, but there’s something else there too—curiosity, maybe.

"Get him out of your mouth, sweetheart."

Her lips twitch, almost imperceptibly, but I catch it. A tiny crack in her impenetrable wall.

Between the barest ghost of a smile and the scent of her arousal between her legs, wafting delicately in the air, I’m pretty sure I’m doing okay.

For now.

Maybe.

but there’s less bite in her

strokes. Her skin is warm silk under my palms. But even as I touch her, I can’t shake the image of Thom’s dick in her mouth, spurting his nasty wizard

doesn’t sit right—the thought of any part of him still inside her burns my

from behind as he watches. Want my cock deep inside, my hand around her throat, showing Thom she was never his and always meant to

Fuck.

balls tighten even thinking

how I could claim her, suck the tender skin of her neck and bite down as he watches. How I’d make her beg and scream and writhe under my touch, my hands, when

who’s really winning

and something in me snaps. I grab a fistful of

"Spit," I order.

her hand and

reaches behind her, finds my hands, and places them firmly on her breasts. The weight of them fills my palms perfectly. I hesitate

Fuck it.

nipples pebble beneath my thumbs, taut and aching. I stroke my fingers slowly across her curves, teasing the sensitive

pants and quicker beats. I can smell her pussy, the heat

That would be pathetic.

chump kind

keep Lyre around if I show her

between my fingers, pinching it hard enough to make her hiss. Her breath stutters, but she doesn’t pull away. I do the same to the other, twisting it slightly, and she makes

There we go.

her indifferent attitude. A spitfire in bed. I knew she

Every touch feels like a button I’ve just

twitch again,

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