Chapter 4
While allowing her man to conduct the scene, Chantelle moved on top of him. She spent the next fifteen minutes having her skin kissed and caressed, stung by little zinging nips and scratches, soothed with wet tongues. Fifteen minutes…the digital alarm clock on Bobby’s side of the bed told her so. The way Bobby snared his fingers in her hair and kept her head twisted meant the clock was the one thing she watched. Having nothing else to stare at she closed her eyes more than once, concentrated on sensation, but she had no real control because she kept finding herself staring blindly at the clock again.
She trembled, wrecked, though in a good way. She might beg and urge both men into her, but this wasn’t her play. She didn’t direct the scene. Giving Bobby command was her gift, and
