Page 140
Jamie’s hand stills. His eyes stay on her.
Heather opens the paperback to a marked page. A corner has been folded down, and two lines near the bottom have been underlined in dark ink.
I look at her. “You wrote in a book.”
“I improved it.” She climbs onto the bed and straddles my thighs. “Start at the top.”
The first paragraph contains darkness that prowls, desire that claws and eyes compared to both winter and fire within three sentences. I reach the fourth before stopping.
Heather waits above me. “Why aren’t you reading?”
“This sentence has three metaphors, and none of them agree.”
Simon’s mouth moves at one corner. Jamie laughs before turning it into a cough.
Heather settles her hand around my cock. “Then make them sound convincing.”
She strokes until my body responds, ignoring the book open across my palms. When I’m hard, she lifts herself and guides me inside.
Her body closes around the head of my cock. The book dips before I correct it.
“Read,” she says.
I begin again. The prose doesn’t improve with repetition. Heather lowers herself another inch each time I complete a sentence, taking me slowly while the heroine describes her captor.
Jamie starts touching himself when my voice returns. Simon waits until Heather looks at him, then pulls his fist once along his cock.
I reach the second paragraph. Heather takes me completely and holds me there.
“His darkness pursued me through the locked house,” I read, “filling every room like smoke until even my own skin smelled of him.”
Heather rises and lowers herself in one slow stroke. Wet heat follows her upward and tightens around me when she comes down again.
Jamie’s hand moves in time with her. Simon chooses a slower pace, but his eyes remain on Heather.
I continue. The heroine attempts to escape through a window, only to discover that the hero anticipated her choice and removed the handle. He finds her there, punishes her for endangering herself and tells her freedom is merely another name for being beyond his protection.
Heather’s pace increases.
The book shifts in my hands. I tighten my grip along the spine and keep my voice even.
“He caught my wrists and pinned them above my head, his midnight gaze devouring the frightened surrender of my trembling soul.” I stop.
Jamie and Simon stop with me.
Heather remains seated on my cock. “What did you miss?”
“Nothing. I’m considering whether a gaze can be both midnight and capable of eating a soul.”
The ruler strikes the my ribs. Pain cuts cleanly through everything else, and my cock jerks inside her.
“You don’t edit what belongs to me.” Heather returns the ruler to the nightstand. “Read the sentence as written.”
I find the beginning again. Jamie’s hand tightens around his cock while he waits, and Simon’s thumb rests motionless beneath the head of his.
“He caught my wrists and pinned them above my head, his midnight gaze devouring the frightened surrender of my trembling soul.”
Heather begins moving before I reach the end. Jamie and Simon resume with her.
