The Face of Scandal Read Online Free PDF Page B

that, are you? You like everything fast and rough…”
    “Not everything,” Hazel panted. It was hardly an objection.
    She dug her toes into the ceramic tile with the first caress of Ward’s tongue to her labia. The sensation was dulled by the water—and yes, Hazel had grown accustomed to something a little more vigorous. But Ward knew what he was doing. He shuffled forward, knees scraping the bottom of the tub, and parted her folds with his thumbs to expose the pebbled nub of her clit.
    Hazel sank her fingers into his hair, drawing him the rest of the way in. To her surprise, Ward allowed it. Dylan, behind her, didn’t protest. She squirmed a little to find the perfect angle, her heel digging into the small of Ward’s back, and gradually became aware of Dylan grinding against her ass.
    A soft, pleased sound spilled from her throat.
    “You’re getting off on this,” she murmured, realization like a gut-punch. The thought of being good enough for Dylan even when she could do no more than stroke his thigh with a shaky hand was as astonishing as it was exciting. What else could she do to turn him on?
    Dylan chuckled, breath warm on her cheek. “You have to admit…seeing Ward on his knees is not without appeal.”
    In retribution, Ward fastened his lips snugly to her clit, vulgar, wet sounds ricocheting off the tiles, and sucked at her in earnest.
    Hazel keened and threw her head back in ecstasy. It wasn’t fair to be the ball they constantly kicked between them, but to say she minded would’ve been a lie. She couldn’t resist meeting the stiff point of Ward’s tongue as she rolled her hips. Pleasure radiated through her with every sharp stroke.
    “That’s it,” Dylan urged, pinching her nipples. “You’ll come in his mouth, won’t you? Turn around’s fair play…” He freed one hand from her chest as he spoke, fiddling with something outside of Hazel’s sightline.
    She sucked in a startled breath when he slid a slick fingertip between the globes of her ass.
    Dylan kissed her shoulder. “You don’t—”
    “No, go—go ahead.” She braced herself for the burn of penetration, by now acquainted with how forceful Dylan could be. Anticipation thrummed in her veins like a ticking clock.
    Ward’s mouth on her served as a delicious distraction, chiseling the initial curl of discomfort into an afterthought. The urge to come had ebbed, too, courtesy of Dylan entering her with a curled digit. He teased her, alternating between one and two fingers, easing back when her breathing grew ragged, then resuming his sweet torture just as Hazel began to relax.
    Their sloppy, fervent strokes awakened her need in no time. Hazel moved with them, desperate to take more—of Ward, of Dylan, she didn’t care which—as desire pulsed deep at her core. But Dylan had other plans. He waited her out through every little tremor as orgasm threatened to engulf her before coquettishly eluding her grasp.
    By the time Ward pulled back to lick his lips, Dylan had three fingers inside her—a tight fit by any stretch of imagination—and Hazel ground out a plea to be allowed her climax. Somehow, it had come to the point that she needed them to say it before she could let herself tumble over the edge. She didn’t care to examine how that worked, or why, or what it meant to feel a wave of tenderness as Ward bit a bruise into the inside of her thigh in warning.
    “You’ll come with me inside you,” Ward growled, “and not before.”
    “With you? ”
    Despite the dizzy blur of want and steam rising around them, Hazel still deciphered the smile in Dylan’s voice.
    Ward levered smoothly to his feet, the muscles in his thighs pulling taut beneath pale skin, and took Hazel’s elbow in a rough grip. His fingertips were pruning with the humidity. Hazel imagined her lungs looking much the same as Dylan released her and moved to give them space. A moment later, her thoughts dissipated on a startled cry as Ward guided her hands to the tile