Three of Hearts

by Lillian Lark

  “Do you trust me, darling?” In answer to his question I reach up and loosen the tie of my halter top, letting the fabric fall and expose my breasts. Asa makes a sound I can’t identify but I burn in my boldness.

  “Very pretty; show me how you like them touched.”

  I want his hands on my breasts not mine, but the way Asa asks thrums with authority and sinks any objection I have—I can’t deny him. It feels right to do what he asks. More than just the sensation of my hands on my breasts, which is pleasurable if predictable when self-administered, but following his order.

  Later, after all of this, I’ll have to reflect on how I liked Asa giving me orders. I’m sure it’s going to be an uneasy reflection. Harpies are considered sex-positive as a whole but there are some clear lines in the sand on what kind of sex is acceptable. Being a submissive to a man? Unacceptable.

  The taboo nature of it is thrilling, making me more sensitive as I massage my breasts. Asa wraps one arm around my middle holding me in place as my hips start to squirm, tracing his other hand over the top of my waistband. I pinch a nipple and it hits me harder than I expect. I hiss.

  “Careful, maybe we should give that job to someone else. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” Asa’s teasing words begin a humiliating burn before he nips the tender skin of my neck and laves it with his tongue. The hand of the arm holding me comes up and strokes the undersides of my breasts in a taunt. “Zephyrine, are you mine? Will you follow my directives?”

  I stiffen at that. I should say no, observe the line in the sand. This is a temporary sexual exploit. But everything in me craves this. Craves whatever he is going to ask of me.

  “Asa,” I whisper, and a dark sound comes from him. This simple push and pull of power makes me ache in ways sex never has before.

  “I didn’t tell you to stop playing with those tits.” The way he says the dirty, stern reminder punches me low and I go back to touching myself. Asa unbuttons my pants, giving me a second to stop him but I just want him to go faster. It takes me a moment to realize what would make him go faster.

  “Please.” My beg is soft.

  Asa rewards me by dragging his teeth down my neck. “Very good.”

  The sound of my zipper lowering makes me tense in awareness before Asa’s hand slips into my pants. He bypasses my underwear and touches me. Asa makes a grunt of sound when his fingers glide over my pussy, cupping it before letting a finger slip in. I spread my thighs, trying to give him the room to work.

  “Fuck, you’re wet.” His smooth voice saying such rough words has me arching. I ache to do more for him. What would we be able to do around my broken wing? Would Asa bend me forward on the bed and fill me from behind? Would he let me put my mouth on him?

  A sound has me opening my eyes and I freeze. Shock has my breath stuttering. We have an audience. The form of Greg fills the doorway. The size of the man makes him look forbidding.

  How long has he been standing there? Acting the part of a voyeur. Asa must have seen him. Should I be mad that he continued as his past lover watched? Do I feel used?

  His shirtless past lover. The expanse of Greg’s skin distracts me from reacting until a deep sound comes from Greg’s chest. I cup my hands around my breasts. Shield myself from the wolf’s hungry gaze.

  “Uh uh uh, don’t cover yourself.” Asa’s order grounds me.

  The mood in the room doesn’t taste like revenge. But then what does the demon want? His hardness presses against my back, but Asa doesn’t hurry to a conclusion.

  “I don’t understand.” I let my hands fall and Greg comes closer, stopping with some distance left to the bed but close enough that I can see him in detail. He can surely see my details, the way I’m displayed. See my tight nipples and Asa’s hand down my pants. Watch the needy movement of my hips.

  “Do you want to stop?” Asa asks. The arm around my waist comes up, with the halter top fabric, shielding my nipples for the moment. “If you want to, we’ll stop.” Asa doesn’t sound angry at the idea of stopping, just coaxing.

  “B-but…” I am at a loss in this situation.

  Greg watches us like a starving man looks at something that feeds his body and soul but hasn’t said a word. It takes a moment of taking in Greg’s bare chest to notice that he’s covered in sweat and panting; the sweat drenches the waistband of his jeans and clings to his torso.

  “I guess you were quick in your run?” Asa’s voice holds wry affection.

  “Asa—” Greg saying Asa’s name in that raspy, needy way should make my decision for me. I should stop this before these two hurt each other any more than they already have.

  But the way Greg’s eyes keep going back and forth between Asa and me isn’t in hurt or accusation. Greg’s face is full of lust.

  Asa might be covering me while I decide if I want to have both men’s eyes on me, but he keeps his strokes through my wet softness constant. The small touches drive me wild, as does his low voice in my ear.

  “You’re like looking at the sun. So beautiful but packing a punch. Do you see the way you make him crazy? I could be convinced to reward you for being so brave.” Asa’s voice is reverent in my ear. Greg’s head bobs, in what might be a nod, but his gaze is too hungry for the whole scene that I can’t be sure. Asa’s fingers stroke softly around my clit.

  “I’m sure Gregory can be convinced into giving us a show. Would you like that?”

  That makes me agree. The temptation of seeing the big man lost the way I am, to not be the only one vulnerable like this, is too much.

  “Yes, yes to all of it.”

  “Brave girl.” Asa kisses my neck softly and I want to preen under the praise. His arm drops to bar my waist again, letting the fabric fall. Giving Greg a full view as I pinch and pull my nipples softly. I feel drunk on the thrill of it all. Asa’s stroking fingers continue circling my clit.

  The unhurried motions of Asa make me want to lay my head back and let him rub me to orgasm, but he said there would be a show, so I watch Greg.

  “Well, Gregory?” Asa asks.

  Greg’s impressive chest lifts with his intake of air and his chin comes up. A moment of deliberation crosses his face before his hands go to his own waistband. Unbuttoning the wet jeans reveals the darkened fabric of his boxers stretched over a sizable erection. I don’t mean to whimper at the sight, but when I do Greg stops. The look he gives me is dark and promising before he continues and shucks off his clothes completely.

  Asa isn’t unaffected either, his fingers increasing pressure on my clit. I gasp at the pleasure-pain of it and he eases the pressure

  “Apologies, darling. He is magnificent, isn’t he?” Asa says into my hair. I nod because the proud form of Greg is mouthwatering. The tension in the big man’s body makes his posture stiff. So different from the fluid way Asa moves.

  The man’s cock, though. I am rarely in the situation to admire a man’s cock like this but seeing Greg naked makes my mouth dry.

  When Greg’s hand wraps around his own erection, I feel a coiling in my own body. As if my muscles constrict me tighter and tighter. I’m empty when I want to be full. I must make some sort of telling motion or sound.

  “Not right now, Zephyrine,” Asa says, as if reading my mind. “No cocks for you yet. Your wing is still healing and we all barely know each other. That’s no way to start a relationship.”

  Greg looks surprised at that. “What do you mean?”

  I’m still the most confused one in this scene, but Greg has second place for that position.

  “You’re supposed to be giving us a show, Gregory. We’ll talk about other things later. Tell me, is that how you have been jerking yourself off since leaving?” There is a cruel edge to Asa’s voice that makes my insides blaze.

  Greg’s jaw flexes and an erotic shiver goes through me when he spits into his palm and starts fucking into his fist, glaring at Asa. Every so often his eyes drop to mine and his face softens.

  The flex of Greg’s naked hips and core in action are
like throwing gasoline on a fire and I’m fighting Asa’s hold on me, wanting to lift my hips harder against his infuriatingly soft strokes.

  “Please Asa, I need you inside of me. I’m so empty.” I’ll block sounding so pathetic from my memory later. The bastard orchestrating this is keeping me on the very edge of orgasm. At my begging, Greg grunts. His sounds spur me on.

  The grip with which Greg holds himself is punishing. It must still feel good because the force of his thrusting hips makes a slapping sound that causes a moan to escape from me.

  “So needy. Are you that desperate? Do you think you want that monster cock filling you?”

  It sounds like a dark tease because I do want that. I’ll take whatever Asa decides to give me and the knowledge of that smothers everything I’ve ever thought of myself. Asa’s cock or Greg’s wouldn’t matter, I’m in a state that I’d accept it and beg for more.

  Asa, with only the use of his fingers, has remade me into a desperate, craving thing. There’s rapture waiting for me and I ache to chase it. How has it never been like this before?

  My whimper must sound dire because Greg’s tendons are standing out on his neck and his voice is a little more audible than a growl. “Asa. Give her what she wants.”

  Asa laughs softly as his fingers slide deep inside and curve upward. The swift motion, the pressure to my clit from his hand, and the way Asa has played my body is the final chord to the song. My orgasm breaks over me like wildfire. All the while I can hear Asa talk as he continues his soft strokes, prolonging my climax.

  “So softhearted, Gregory. Wait until she finishes. I’d hate for her to miss yours.” Asa’s words barely register until the blood stops rushing in my ears. When my body goes limp against Asa, I look at Greg. He must have been waiting for me because his sounds increase with the frequency of his thrusts. The motions are furious and reach a crescendo.

  With a shout Greg comes, and it hits the wood floor with a splatter that adds to the filthiness of the experience. I know the memory is going to live in the back of my mind forever. Cataloged as the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen, to flip to when I’m feeling lonely, to warm me.

  I’m floaty as Asa buttons my pants back up and fixes my top. As soon as I’m covered and looking at the naked man in front of us, the experience starts to seep into my consciousness. Greg’s whole body has gone lax, the tension that wound him since the moment we met gone. When he opens his eyes and looks at me, I blush.

  Asa carefully gets off the bed and I realize he was the only one who didn’t … finish. Guilt wars with bewilderment in me.

  “Um, do you need—”

  Asa waves away what I’m sure would have been an awkward offer.

  “Very kind of you to offer but I can assure you that is not the way it works. I will get release when I want it. I wanted to take my time getting to know you.” Asa’s response is direct, and Greg laughs for the first time, shaking his head before looking at the enigmatic demon.

  “You made me make a mess,” Greg says. Asa scoffs at that.

  “Was it not worth the cleanup?” Asa looks at him with a brow raised.

  “It was worth the cleaning and more,” Gregory responds with his gaze still on me. None of this feels casual. I swallow dryly. What have we started?

  Chapter 6

  Gregory

  Watching Zeph blush is a gift. Watching her ride Asa’s hand was a phenomenon. My wolf being completely content with the whole situation feels like a goddamn blessing. I have a lot of questions about the situation, but Asa is the smartest person I know. Clever and ruthless, he wouldn’t have started this if there isn’t a way it can work somehow.

  Asa wrinkles his nose as he looks at the sweat cooling on my body. “You should clean up. I hadn’t intended for you to come back from a run around the property line in under ten minutes.”

  It’s probably a new record for me, and I hadn’t even noticed.

  I haven’t been around Asa like this in months. Whenever we’ve seen or spoken to each other it’s been a stiff affair. Part of me wants to pull him into my arms, the other part, the guilty part, wants to get dressed and approach the situation with caution.

  I hadn’t planned to blurt out that Zeph is my mate. The plan had been to take my time, survey the terrain, before making any dramatic declarations. Leaving Asa when the wolf pressured me to roam had cut something crucial out of my soul. I hadn’t wanted to repeat that with anyone. I still am not sure what the wolf wants. Trying to read the animal’s reactions bewilders me.

  The drive here had left me so on edge that Zeph’s outright rejection of my presence has me reacting panicked and clumsy. Asa had been right to send me on a run. He always knows the best way to get me thinking clearly.

  Once I started running, the wolf had started pushing me to return to them. I’d heard of the compulsion to mate and mark that shifters experience when meeting their mate but had never dealt with it firsthand. The lack of it at the beginning of my relationship with Asa had been the first thing that made me hesitate naming Asa my mate. The wolf had communicated opposite urges throughout our dating.

  When I was with Asa, the wolf wanted its mate but didn’t urge me to mark him. As soon as we would part ways for the day, the wolf urged me to go out hunting. I thought the wolf was being faithless; could it have been looking for Zeph?

  I’m glad to find her but now there is a demand in my body that pulls me, by my very heartstrings, toward both Asa and Zeph. The sight of them together is confusing in how perfect everything feels. I’m uncomfortably primed for action. Arousal burns down my spine; even after our voyeuristic displays, my cock hardens again.

  Zeph avoids looking at me as if she’s feeling awkward. I’m light with relief, physically and soul-deep. As I start to come down from the high of climax, Zeph sneaks a peek at me and blushes; I feel the heat come to my face. I’m the one still naked.

  I catch Asa ducking his face at our reactions, his smile devilish.

  “Dinner?” My voice croaks at Asa. It hurts not to approach him when he’s so playful.

  “I’m going to take Zeph, you clean up and meet us in the kitchen.”

  Zeph opens her mouth like she is going to argue when he lifts her with ease from the bed. Asa gives her a look that has her closing her mouth. If this continues like I suspect Asa plans for it to, Zeph will learn that you don’t deny Asa what he wants. I have to sort something out first if we have any chance of continuing.

  “Zeph.”

  What I have to say is too important to wait for me to get dressed. “I want to say that I’m sorry I was such an asshole earlier. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings but I’m pretty sure I did. My only excuse is that my wolf was losing its mind at the idea of you being in danger.”

  “Oh.” Zeph has her arms around Asa’s neck. Asa waits to see if she wants to answer. Right when he is about to move, she responds. “It’s okay. I don’t know why it hurt my feelings as much as it did but thank you for apologizing.”

  I want to simultaneously cheer that she accepts my apology and beat myself bloody that I hurt her. I look at Asa, not knowing what to say. I should apologize for hurting him, but I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep. Asa’s mouth firms.

  “We’ll talk about it at dinner,” Asa says as he carries Zeph from the room. His pain affects me the same way Zeph’s does. Anxiety adds to my already confusing emotions because I don’t know how to keep from harming these people I care about.

  Zephyrine

  It was nice of Greg to apologize. The heartbroken way he had looked at Asa had gone a long way in making me feel less judgmental toward him.

  “You don’t need to carry me; my legs work just fine.” I’m enjoying being held like this but it’s odd to rely on a man this way. I try to keep my splinted wing from dragging but the attempt only results in a gasp of pain. The pain isn’t as bad as I expected it to be. I can’t wait until I can furl my wings again, having them out is bulky when I’m land-bound.

  “Stop
trying to move it.” Asa sounds a little exasperated. “I’m carrying you because I want to. You just fell apart in my arms and covered my fingers in your pleasure. Can you really fault me for wanting to keep you close?”

  It feels awkward when he puts it like that. I don’t have any experience with males wanting to take care of me except those in my family. Being taken care of after a sexual act is completely foreign but makes a small glow of warmth light in me.

  “I guess not? … Just make sure to wash your hands before you touch the food.”

  ✽✽✽

  Turns out that Asa isn’t one for cooking meals on his own, so I don’t need to worry about food cleanliness practices, much. There are some foiled over casserole tins in the freezer and I watch Asa, from my place at the island barstool, pick through them before selecting one. He answers my unspoken question.

  “My housekeeper makes a few meals that I can cook up at my leisure throughout the week. Before Gregory, I couldn’t be bothered to spend time cooking and after… It’s much the same.”

  I’m curious about the time he and Greg were together but there is an air of touchiness now that we’ve all partaken of a sexual communion. It’s as if the actions in the bedroom flayed old skin from us, leaving new skin that we’re all trying to keep from injuring.

  The stool I sit on makes it easy to keep anything from bumping my splinted wing as I watch Asa preheat the oven. I am incredibly thankful that the balcony I crashed into was Asa’s. Weeks of babying a splinted wing would have driven me crazy.

  When Asa slides the foil-covered food into the oven before the preheating is done, I wonder how much his cooking habits would bother my mother. It’s an odd thought to have in this space. Asa’s home is beautiful. The decor is on the minimal side of tasteful and the layout is spacious. I think the house is a single level with a modern design. It contrasts with the wooded forest I can see through the windows.