Lords of Wrath (Royals of Forsyth University, #2)

by Angel Lawson

Exhaling, I do as he asks, melting back into his broad chest. The motion makes him sink in just a little deeper, and then I feel it inside me. His dick jumps with a strong twitch that I’m all too familiar with now. I’ve felt it in my hand—in my mouth—enough times that I can vividly imagine the sticky pre-cum dribbling from the tip. For a moment, I’m so overcome with the urge to lift and fall that it’s like a physical ache to stay still. I turn away from Tristian to fight it, cheek rolling on his shoulder. Rath is staring back at me. He has his temple propped on a fist, his legs spread lazily in the seat. His eyes are dark and hooded as he watches, and it only takes one glance at his lap to realize the hand buried inside his pocket is playing with those panties. Or maybe even with himself. “You good?” he asks, his pocket shifting. Nodding, I answer, “Yes,” even though my fingers are twisting in the blanket. Tristian hums, pressing a kiss into my neck. “Pay attention to the game, sweetheart. Maybe we’ll score.” He punctuates this with a buck of his hips.