We reach the bed, and Ash turns me to face Embry.
“Kiss her,” he orders his friend softly.
And Embry, looking like a sinner already in hell, cups my face in his hands and does as the President asks. When his lips brush against mine, I taste scotch and need, but he’s too eager to stay on the surface for long, parting my lips with his own and licking into my mouth with searing intensity, making me stumble back.
Ash catches me, positioning me so I can rest against his chest as Embry kisses me like he’ll never be able to kiss me again. I feel a tugging in my hair and I understand why Ash had me face Embry: he wanted to pull the elegant ballet bun loose and have my hair down and available for him. It spills over my shoulders in silky waves as Embry continues to ravish my mouth, his tongue firm and seeking, his breaths in between kisses fast and desperate.
We didn’t kiss earlier today, I realize. This is our first kiss since Chicago.
I’ve waited five years for this man, and he kisses me like he’s waited one hundred and five years to kiss me.
There must be a signal I don’t see, because then Embry pulls away and Ash is coaxing me onto the bed, onto my back. The men lay on either side of me, propped up on their elbows, stretched out in long lines of muscle and expensive fabric.
And I forget to breathe again.
Ash reaches over me and takes Embry’s hand, and Embry lets out a low groan as Ash guides his hand to my leg and presses it against my calf. Slowly—so slowly that I think I might perish—Ash moves Embry’s hand higher and higher and higher, lingering at the lacy tops of my stockings, and then moving up to the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. The sight of both of them reaching under my skirt, my husband forcing his best friend to touch my pussy, threatens to rip the breath right from me, and when I feel the tangle of warm, blunt fingertips against my quivering flesh, I come to life, gasping in a breath and spreading my legs.
Ash smiles down at me. “What do you want, angel?”
“We’ll give it to you,” Embry whispers. “We’ll give you anything you want.”
I chew on my lip a moment, hoping he means that. Because I want to be finger-fucked and eaten, I really do, but there’s something I want even more than that. Something I haven’t had before. “I want to see what happens when you two do more than kiss.”
“Oh really?” Ash asks, and two thick fingers slide inside me. I sigh happily. “Would that turn you on?”
“You have no idea.”
“I might have some idea. Feel how wet she is, Embry. Feel it.” A third finger, this one from a different hand, slides in and my hips lift off the bed at the sensation.
Embry nuzzles his face into my neck, I think at first to kiss me. But as the seconds pass with his lips lingering on my neck, I begin to wonder if it’s because he’s nervous about kissing Ash.
“Embry,” I murmur. “Let me see you and Ash together. Let me have that.”
And when he lifts his head, I see his eyes are glassy again, like melting glacier ice. His hand leaves me and he gets to a kneeling position. Ash mirrors him, and I’m the luckiest woman in the whole goddamn world to be witnessing the President of the United States deliberately palming his cock through his pants as the Vice President watches with his lip between his teeth.
“I’m sorry,” Embry finally says. His voice is throttled, his eyes glazed with unshed tears. “I’m sorry I said no. I never stopped loving you. I just wanted to do the right thing.”
“You’re here now,” Ash answers gruffly, one hand still on his erection as his other reaches for Embry’s shirt. “You’re here now.”
I think they’re going to kiss, that they’re going to come crashing together over me in a tangle of muscle and long-stifled desire, but they don’t. Instead, Embry traces Ash’s mouth with his forefinger—the finger that was just inside me. And then he pushes it past Ash’s lips.
Ash sucks on the finger, shoving two of his own in Embry’s mouth, the two that he felt my wetness with, and I watch them as they lick the taste of my cunt from each other’s fingers the same way I’d lick melted chocolate from my own. Ash’s eyelids are hooded as Embry takes his fingers deep into his mouth, and Embry is breathing hard at the sight of his own finger between Ash’s lips. He lets his hand fall free, and then suddenly the kiss happens, fast and hard like a clap of lightning.
“Ash,” Embry breathes. “Oh, Ash.”
Ash grunts in response, leaning into Embry’s neck and biting the mark he made earlier. Embry practically buckles in response, and then Ash is off the bed and hauling Embry off too. Ash kisses him again, this time pressing the length of his body against Embry’s. They are thigh to thigh, stomach to stomach, chest to chest, and I can tell the moment their cocks brush against each other’s because they both let out identical noises, twin unfs of helpless pleasure. Embry’s hands are all over Ash—fumbling with his vest buttons and shirt buttons—while Ash is the one holding Embry’s neck, his other hand running possessive lines up and down Embry’s back that make Embry shiver.
Ash moves his attention to Embry’s throat again, and Embry’s eyes close. And then fly open in near-agony as Ash presses his wide palm to Embry’s cock.
“Jesus,” Embry moans, pushing against Ash’s hand. “Jesus, that feels good.”
“You like that?” growls Ash. “You like having my hand on you?”
Embry nods, his mouth opening to make words, but they don’t come out. And I’ve gone from lying on the bed to kneeling, fighting the urge to run my fingers over my clit as I watch. I want to spend all my orgasms all on their bodies, not waste one on my own. But fuck it’s hard to hold back, especially with the rough way Ash rubs Embry, rougher than I would ever dare to be with a man.
And Ash is different with Embry than he is with me, not just rougher but faster and more demanding, like he’s less afraid of hurting Embry than he is of hurting me. He fists a hand in his best friend’s hair and yanks him down to his knees, while his other hand undoes his fly in a few jerky, savage motions. Embry and I exhale in unison as he draws out his erection, which is so hard that the skin on his shaft looks shiny. There’s already pre-cum beaded at the top of the swollen, fat tip. His cock is so obscene like this, framed by his tuxedo pants, dark and hungry as it bobs in front of another man’s mouth.
And that other man opens his mouth obediently, training his eyes on Ash’s. Ash waits a moment, one hand in Embry’s hair, the other on his own cock, looking like some sort of vengeful king meting out the most humiliating justice possible. And then he shoves his penis down Embry’s throat without warning, without mercy, drawing out only when he feels like it and pushing in as hard and as fast as he likes.
“Pull yours out,” Ash tells Embry. “Pull it out and rub it while you suck me.”
Embry does as he’s told, unfastening his pants and tugging them down far enough past his hips that he can expose himself. His dick is hard and shiny like Ash’s, slightly more slender with a slightly less flared helmet, but just as long and veined and hungry.
My mouth waters, and I slide one leg off the bed to move closer, to see how Embry would taste, but Ash’s voice stops me in my tracks. “Stay there, little princess.”
“But—”
“This little show is for you, remember?” He turns his gaze away from Embry’s handsome lips wrapped around his dick and looks at me. “I will tie you to that bed if you can’t follow directions. Understood?”
I pout. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girls get rewarded, Greer. And bad girls get what’s coming to them. Just remember that.”
“And what exactly do the bad girls have coming to them?” I ask a little coyly, fluttering my eyelashes.
Embry laughs around Ash’s cock, and it must feel good because Ash swears violently and then narrows his eyes at both of us. “Behave.”
Reluctantly, I obey, sitting back on my heels in a pile of lace and silk and watching Embry stroke himself as Ash mercilessly fucks his mouth. And as abruptly as he pulled Embry to hi
s knees, he forces him back to his feet and pulls him into a wet, searching kiss.
And then he wraps both of their cocks in his huge hand and squeezes them together.
“Holy shit,” Embry mumbles, breaking away from the kiss and dropping his head onto Ash’s shoulder. “Fuck.”
Ash says nothing, but his jaw is clenched tight as he begins to work his hand up and down their dicks, the undersides and heads slippery and rubbing against each other with each punishing pull of Ash’s hand.
Embry is mumbling feverishly into Ash’s neck and Ash is nodding at his words, but his hand doesn’t let up, doesn’t slow or slacken its grip. He jacks off those two cocks as easily as if it were just his own, and more and more pre-cum comes out as he works, making things slippy. Messy.
Neither of them mind the messy, the slippy, the bare biology of stimulation and compression and release. Instead, Embry is rocking into Ash’s grip, moaning into his shoulder, and Ash is staring down at the two cocks in his hand like he’s never seen anything like it, like he’s awed and humbled at the same time.
And me? I’m as tight as a snare drum, my cunt so hot and aching that it feels like a wound between my legs. It’s beyond sexy or sexual, those words are for a different woman in a different place. This is pure physiological need, this is body instead of mind, this is feeling without thinking.
“I’m gonna come,” Embry says, his voice muffled by Ash’s neck. “I’m gonna come.”
“Me too, little prince,” Ash says, almost soothingly. “It’s okay. Just let it happen. Just give it to me.”
God. Does it get any fucking better than this?
Also, it’s the first time I’ve ever heard him call Embry that, little prince, and it makes me wonder about all the times he calls me little princess. Which of us got our name first, I wonder, and where did the nicknames even come from? And then I decide I don’t care. I like that Embry and I are the little prince and little princess, the king’s matched set of consorts. I like that we belong to Ash, that our names belong to Ash, that he considers us special and royal and apart from everyone else, but still miles below him, at least in the bedroom.
And Embry must like it too, because Ash murmurs, it’s okay, little prince, you don’t have to be strong anymore, and Embry erupts with a pained cry, shooting thick, pulsing spurts over Ash’s fist. Ash strokes up once, strokes down once, goes up one more time, and then he gives a soft grunt and ejaculates onto his semen-covered fist, his other hand reaching for Embry’s hair and pinning Embry’s face against his neck as he shudders his release all over his hand and Embry’s flesh. And then he pulls Embry’s face to his, rewarding his little prince with soft, sweet kisses even as their cocks still twitch in his hand.
Embry moans into the kisses, clutching his fingers into Ash’s shirt, and it’s such a moment of extreme vulnerability, these men with their sticky, softening flesh and open, history-laden eyes, that I almost feel guilty watching this moment, more so than any other moment that led up to it.
I don’t stop watching, though.
When they pull apart they both look at me, pupils wide and lips parted. I crawl up to the edge of the bed, and Ash says in a voice so even and calm you’d think nothing had even happened, “It’s up to you, little princess. What happens next?”
I run my tongue along my teeth as I think. “Can you take off your clothes and then come back to bed?”
Embry nods dazedly while Ash smiles. “Your wish is our command, angel.”
They both head into the bathroom, and I hear the sound of clothes hitting the floor and the sink running, and then they both come back out, cleaned off and completely naked. Even with their recently-sated cocks swinging heavily between their legs, they’re still deliciously hard and male otherwise. Wide shoulders and tapered waists, notched lines of muscle along their stomachs. Both men have that perfect trail of hair leading from their flat navels to their dicks, Embry’s a dark brown and Ash’s a jet black, and they both have long legs that look carved from stone.
I watch happily as they stalk toward the bed, their eyes on me, and when they reach me, I press a hand to each of their chests, feeling powerful and powerless all at once.
“I should tell you that I’ve never done this before,” I joke.
“Neither have I,” Ash says, and though he’s smiling back at me, his voice is serious.
I look between the two of them. “You two never…shared a woman before?”
“We’ve never shared a woman, and I’ve never been in bed with more than one person,” Ash says. He glances over at Embry, who still seems slightly come-drunk from his release at Ash’s hand.
“I have, um, been in bed with more than one person,” Embry admits, a little sheepishly.
But I’m not jealous—at least for now. I’m curious. I let my hand drift down from his chest to circle his navel. “And was it ever like this? Two men and one woman?”
Embry’s beginning to breathe faster, his blue eyes cloudy. “Yes.”
“Hmm.” My hand drifts lower, following that trail of hair all the way down to the thick root of his penis. He shudders as my playful fingers walk their way around him, stroke along his testicles and probe the sensitive skin of his perineum. “Did you like it?”
His breath catches as I press a gentle knuckle into the soft patch of skin below his scrotum. “Yes.”
“Did you make her come?”
My hand moves back to his shaft, which is thickening and growing once again. Embry’s head drops back. “Fuck. Yes, I made her come.”
“You made it feel good?”
“So good,” he chokes out. I’m squeezing his crown now, feeling him stiffen and fatten in my hand. “So fucking good.”
“Are you going to make me feel good?”
“Shit yes, I am,” he growls.
Ash’s hand circles behind me, sliding down my back and rucking up my skirt to grab my ass. “What do you want, Greer?” he asks gruffly. “What do you want us to do?”
I look up at him, at the tension lining his shoulders and neck, at the semi-hard cock slowly growing between his legs, and I know that it’s taking everything he has not to take charge. Not to simply throw his little princess and his little prince down and do whatever he likes with them.
As if he knows what I’m thinking, he pulls me closer, pressing me into his chest. “This is a big step,” he murmurs. “I’m asking a lot of you tonight, and I want you to feel safe, if not comfortable.”
Just like our first time.
But unlike our first time, I realize there are a couple things that I genuinely wouldn’t be ready for if they happened, along with a couple things I really need.
“I want you to take charge,” I tell him. I’m still stroking Embry’s cock as Ash and I talk, and I can tell Embry’s struggling to focus on the conversation happening in front of him instead of on the small hand fisting his length. “But I want…”
I bite my lip. I’ve never had to set boundaries with Ash before, I’ve always been able to fling myself right into his depraved claws and know that my safe word was enough, and I find that it’s hard to actually say the words out loud.
“You have limits,” he finishes for me softly. “Of course, angel. What do you need?”
I feel shy as I say this, although that’s fucking ridiculous given the circumstances—these men have seen every part of me there is to see. What can I possibly have to feel shy about? “We haven’t done anal yet. And I don’t know if I can do my first time with two men…” I blush “…you know. Inside.”
“That’s a good idea,” Embry agrees hazily. He raises his arm to slide around my back, and then he’s grabbing my ass along with Ash. I feel his fingertip graze the small rosette between my cheeks and I shiver. “No one’s been inside here?”
I shiver again as he presses against it. “Ash…Ash licked me there. And his finger…oh—” Embry’s finger breaches me as I talk. “But he hasn’t fucked it.”
“Yet,” Ash adds in a voice full of dark desi
re.
“Fuck,” Embry says, pushing his finger in to the knuckle. I arch in pleasure-pain. “I can’t fucking wait. But if we’re going to make it feel good for your first time, we’ll have to do it right. Just one inside at a time. And then—” the finger goes deeper, and I have to let go of his cock and put a hand on his chest so I don’t fall over “—we can work you up to taking us both at once. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” I gasp, and then his finger is gone, swatted away by Ash.
“No playing while she sets her limits,” he scolds and then turns back to me. “What else, little princess?”
I look back at him and then to Embry, and my voice is very small when I say, “I want you both to hold me and kiss me. I know there will be times when we’re rough with each other, when we’re fast and dirty and there’s nothing romantic about it at all. But it’s my wedding night tonight, and I just want…I don’t know. I want to feel like a bride. I want to feel cherished.”
There was nothing else I could have said that would have had such an impact. Ash seizes my waist and yanks me close, burying his face in my hair as Embry drops his head on my shoulder with a noise that sounds ripped from his chest.
“Oh princess,” Ash says roughly. “I vow to God that we will make you feel cherished. We’ll make our bride feel loved and perfect.”
Embry makes another helpless noise at our bride, and so do I, the idea of being a bride to both of these men heartbreakingly joyful and arousing.
“My sweet angel,” Ash murmurs in my hair, still holding me tight. He almost sounds near tears. “Without a second thought, I would have given you half my kingdom had you asked. But you asked for the one thing I most desperately want to give you.” His lips press into my hair and then he steps back, scrubbing a hand through his hair and chewing on his lip. I see the moment he goes from vulnerable to strong, from gutted by my honest request to taking charge to see my wishes carried out.
Modern Fairy Tale: Twelve Books of Breathtaking Romance Page 53