Chapter 7: Unexpected Audience
The door swung open with a careless bang, and Mac stood there, Nomi’s lit textbook in his hand, his bland smile dying. His eyes travelled from Jazzy, naked and glistening as she ground her cunt against Nomi’s mouth, to Ant, whose powerful hips were driving his thick cock deep into Nomi’s tight ass. “Oh,” Mac breathed, the sound strangled. Jazzy didn’t stop moving, just turned her head, a slow, wicked smile spreading. “You’re staying, papi?” she purred, her voice syrup-thick. Ant chuckled, a dark, rumble of sound, and without breaking his rhythm, he reached out and fisted his hand in the front of Mac’s polo shirt, yanking him fully into the room. The door clicked shut. Mac stumbled, his eyes wide, fixed on where Ant was buried. “What the fuck—” Ant pulled him closer, the scent of sex and sweat overwhelming. “You wanted to see her, right?” Ant’s voice was a taunt. “So watch.” He shoved Mac down into the ragged armchair, forcing him to witness. Nomi moaned around Jazzy’s folds, her own pleasure spiking with the humiliation, with the raw ownership in Ant’s actions. Jazzy increased her pace, fucking Nomi’s face, her fingers tangling in her hair. “See how good she takes it?” Ant grunted, each thrust making Nomi’s body jolt. Mac was frozen, pale, a spectator to his own pathetic fantasy unraveling into something far beyond him. Ant locked eyes with him, possessive and challenging. “This is what she really needs.”