by Kit Rocha
Jade's touch between her thighs vanished. Scarlet broke their kiss and watched Mad drag Jade's fingers to his mouth. He licked the wetness from her fingertips without looking away from Scarlet. "I don't know what I want more. My cock in her, or my tongue."
Dylan rose with a lazy half-grin, one that should have looked smug and self-satisfied. Instead, it looked like a promise. "You just have to trust me."
"Always." One word, raw and rough around the edges, the answer to the tension that had been sparking between them since their visit to the shrine.
Dylan knelt behind her, his hands blazing shivering paths all the way up her legs. He gripped her hips and whispered, "Say yes."
"Yes." The answer came without thought. It had to, because if she gave herself time to think, she'd have to wonder what it meant to give your trust to a man like him.
His fingers tightened, biting into flesh, and he lifted her. Mad moved, and so did Jade, all three of them focused on just one thing—the lazy thrust of Mad's hips as he rubbed his shaft teasingly over Scarlet's clit.
"Christ," he breathed. "You burn so hot, so fast."
"So beautiful," Jade added, stroking a finger around Scarlet's nipple. "Watch her eyes the first time you really fuck her deep. You'll be drunk on her for days. I was."
Scarlet couldn't look away, because there was nowhere to look. She was surrounded, caged by the same lust that lit Mad's face.
Dylan pressed his chest against her back, and she swallowed a moan at the heat and hardness. "You want him." It was a declaration, not a question.
She answered anyway, her voice shaking with truth. "I want him."
He hummed his approval and lowered her, just a little. "Then take him."
She tried, but Dylan held her fast, forcing her to wait, shivering, as Mad rubbed up against her again. Hot and hard, his shaft slicking past her outer lips to torment her with grazing pressure on her clit.
Then his thumb nudged her piercing. His other hand gripped his cock, positioning the head as his thumb made careful circles. "Take me, Scarlet."
Even as he whispered the plea, he was thrusting up—slowly, taking all the time in the world. She whimpered, desperate for more, and it was Dylan who gave it to her. He pushed her hips down hard, turning the careful advance into a quick, violent possession.
Yes. Fuck fuck fuck yes.
Mad gritted out a curse and rolled his hips. "Right there—keep her right there."
"Thought you said you trust me." The words blew across the back of Scarlet's shoulder, followed by the lazy glide of Dylan's tongue over her skin.
Mad growled and thumped his head back against the pillows. "You and your dark, twisty fucking mind. It shouldn't be half as hot as it is."
"But it is." Dylan pressed an open kiss to the base of Scarlet's neck and lifted her again.
She gripped his flexing arms, but he held her steadily, moving her hips not only up and down, but in a gentle rock. Pleasure pulsed through her, an inescapable flash echoed by Mad's moan, and she jerked in Dylan's grasp.
He held tight with a soft, soothing murmur. "I can let go, or I can show you how good it can be with him."
It meant nothing—they were just filthy words meant to crank Mad's arousal higher—until she looked down at Mad. Really looked, and holy Christ, the intensity vibrating off him was spellbinding. Every muscle tensed, the one in his jaw ticking as he reached out and traced a path up the center of her body to stroke her throat.
The prize wasn't getting off harder instead of faster. This was her reward—their reward—a passion that bordered on religious in its fervor. Being worshipped, adored.
Loved.
Mad continued to caress her, letting Dylan control her movements as he focused on his slow exploration. He followed the line of her jaw up to the curve of her cheekbone. Smoothed a few strands of hair from her temple. Ran a fingertip along her brow and dragged it down her nose.
His thumb pressed to her mouth, gentle but somehow lewd as he used it to part her lips.
Jade trailed kisses up Scarlet's throat, each a whisper-soft caress. "This is what you do to me. What I never have the patience to do to you, because I can't deny you anything."
A shudder seized her, and Scarlet groaned as that tiny movement rippled through her like a shock.
Dylan began to shift her hips again, the same slow, smooth rock—only this time he moved with her, like he was doing more than controlling the speed and rhythm. Like he was the one fucking them both.
That muscle in Mad's jaw jumped again. He edged the tip of his thumb between her teeth and met the next rock of their hips with a quick, hard thrust.
Her vision blurred as pleasure spiked. Instead of crying out, she bit down with a growl.
Mad smiled. "You can bite me all you want. We'll still fuck you until you can't take it anymore."
Her hand moved on its own, and she raked her nails across his chest. He hissed out a curse and grabbed her hand, trapping it over his heart.
Dylan pressed his teeth into the back of her shoulder with another low hum. "We understand each other, Scarlet," he whispered softly. "Better than you realize."
Then he released her.
For a heartbeat, Mad watched her, a silent battle playing out behind his eyes. Then he jerked her wrist, dragging her forward until her face hovered over his. He leaned up, dug his teeth into her lower lip, and licked the ravaged spot. "Take me, Scarlet."
Nothing could have stopped her—Dylan's steely hands, a plea from Jade, even the fire burning in Mad's eyes. She braced herself on his shoulders, breathed his name, and began to move.
Hard, fast. Pleasure was a thing of the past, a weak word that didn't come close to describing the rough, sweet friction. He met every desperate thrust with one of his own, fucking deeper into her with each passing heartbeat.
It was a revelation, and she reached blindly for Jade, twining their fingers together as Dylan spread one hand between her shoulder blades, pushing her closer to Mad.
Mad seized her mouth again, his kiss as wild as the rhythm of their bodies. Advance and retreat, soft and hard, pleasure and the whisper of pain when he tangled his fingers in her hair.
That little flash of sensation ignited the tense heat. It flared in an instant, tipping her over the edge, and she came with a shudder. Instead of releasing her, Mad drank in her cries, keeping her mouth trapped to his as he fucked up into her.
Hard. Intense. Unrelenting.
More. She couldn't say it, not with Mad's tongue gliding over hers, but she felt it in every cell of her body. It vibrated through her like a plucked bass string, powerful enough to shake her even when it should have faded away.
His fingers clenched tight, sparking fire all along her scalp. He dragged her head back just enough to watch her eyes and thrust up again, hard enough to arch her back as the swirling pleasure coalesced into another growing blaze.
Hands skated over her skin, the demanding pressures so alike that she could barely tell them apart. Jade, gripping her hips. Dylan, sliding his around her body to cup her breasts.
He plucked at her nipples, twisting lightly. The hint of promise in the caress left Scarlet clenching around Mad's cock, and his choked groan of surprise spurred Dylan to pinch her harder. To make it hurt.
"Fuck." Mad ground up into her again, his eyes wild. "Is that what you need, sweetheart? A little bit of pain?"
She needed this, to be overwhelmed, so surrounded by lust and pleasure that nothing else existed. "Please," she rasped, with no fucking idea what she was asking—no, begging for.
But they knew. Dylan hauled her upright, still cupping her breasts, his fingertips plying sensation with masterful precision. And then Jade's joined them, not on her breasts but skating down her trembling abdomen to stroke her clit in a knowing rhythm.
Mad was the one who anchored her hips, holding her above him so there was nothing left for her to do but let them support her as they teased and pinched and stroked—as Jade's tongue slipped over and between
Dylan's fingers, as his mouth centered on the spot between her neck and her shoulder.
As Mad rode her, utterly intent, utterly in control, even flat on his back.
Scarlet lost it. Before she could scream, Dylan pressed Jade's fingers hard against her clit. The whole world tumbled away, blotted out by ecstasy, by exquisite relief, by Mad's hoarse whisper as he drove up into her a final time.
Her name, maybe, but she couldn't be sure. All that mattered was the way he pulsed inside her, filling more than her body. Filling her heart, her soul, all those empty places no one but Jade had ever touched.
Jade savored Scarlet's trembling more than she wanted to.
There was an art to taking someone outside of themselves. Some people went their whole lives enjoying pleasurable sex without brushing those lines, those dangerous and seductive boundaries. Others withered without it, because for them it was more than especially intense lovemaking.
For them it was a need. A drive. Fulfillment.
Catharsis.
Scarlet's shivers triggered something dangerous in Jade as she nuzzled the other woman's neck, licked her throat, and smiled at her shuddering pulse. The last time the four of them had fallen together, Scarlet had come hard and fast. Easy. She was always like that—bright and hot and so easy to get off.
But this was more. And Jade was drunk again, just like she'd been the first time her careful control had slipped. Too much liquor and too much teasing, and the door on her darkest fantasies had cracked open. She'd knelt for Scarlet that night, so eager to please—and she knew so many, many ways to please. She'd been trained for it, after all. Trained to spin ecstasy into the sweetest trap, to kneel as a prelude to conquest.
She wanted to please tonight. To stalk pleasure and claim triumph, her submission a naked blade that only a fool would try to grasp, because she was all predatory edges with no safe grip.
Dylan dragged his hand down the middle of Scarlet's back, his fingertips sliding easily over her sweat-slicked skin. She arched under his touch and leaned against Jade, then slumped to the bed with a blissful smile.
So beautiful. Jade loved the contradictions of her, Scarlet's sharp angles and soft curves, and especially the places where they met. She liked it even more when Mad dragged Scarlet to his side, one muscular arm decorated in vivid ink dropping across her bare abdomen.
A prince in exile and an orphaned street rat. They were already a fairy tale, and they didn't even realize it.
But Dylan did. He stared at them for a moment before shifting his intense gaze to her. Beneath the panting breaths and his hard, jutting erection, he was serious. Almost solemn.
Waiting.
Dylan was fool enough to try to hold her, and she was drunk enough on wanting to let him. And what could it hurt? Nothing felt quite real, in this giant bed in this fairytale house she'd likely never see again. Nothing had to be.
She licked her lips and gave her consent. "I trust you."
His gaze sharpened. "Do you?"
The darkness wound lazily through her, and she couldn't stop her slow smile. "If you think you can handle me."
He didn't answer. Instead, he hauled her into his arms, against his chest—
Against all of him.
As erections went, his was impressive. It was impossible to attend the O'Kanes' parties without developing a passing acquaintance with what the men of Sector Four had to offer. Besides, women talked—probably more than their men realized. There was certainly no shortage of quality cock to be enjoyed.
And she still suspected Dylan had them all beat.
He held her there, the hard ridge of his dick prodding her belly, and slowly licked her lower lip. "I can see it, Jade. All the things you want but shouldn't. Everything you hide."
The hell of it was, she didn't have to hide anything. People who knew her past made their assumptions—just like Mad, making all the wrong ones for all the sweetest reasons. No one but Dylan was dark enough to understand that the skills you developed out of necessity could resonate with the deepest parts of you. That you could loathe yourself for acting under duress and still crave the very things you'd done.
Free will mattered. But she still felt like she was opening Pandora's box when she tilted her chin up and bared her throat in calculated surrender. "I'm not hiding tonight."
She caught only a glimpse of his satisfied smile before he turned her around—and bent her over Mad and Scarlet.
They were tangled together, damp and glowing. Mad drew absent patterns over Scarlet's skin as she smiled with such lazy bliss that Jade's heart skipped another beat.
Dylan laid one hand on her hip, low enough to curl his fingers around the front of her thigh. "How long have you craved that?"
From the first moment she'd realized that passion could be more than a tool, more than clinical drawings and dry strategy. "Forever."
"Mmm. So you watched it. Maybe felt a little of it." His fingers tightened. "Now taste it."
Jade clenched her fingers in the rumpled sheets, one hand near Mad's hip and the other near Scarlet's. As close together as they were, it still spread her arms wide and forced her face low. The dizzying musk of sex and sweat overwhelmed her as she inhaled shakily and fought a swift battle against a stab of shame.
No, all things considered, perhaps she shouldn't want this. But she did, and this was a fantasy. Instead of fighting the shame, she embraced it, let it feed her illicit satisfaction when she drew her tongue up the inside of Scarlet's thigh.
She tasted like pleasure. Like Mad. Even more so when Jade reached her pussy and traced gently over her sensitized clit. Scarlet hissed in a breath and started to move, but Mad spread his fingers wide and held her in place.
Poor Scarlet. She was strung out, floating. Crashing her back into pleasure too quickly would overload her senses—tempting, perhaps, but fleeting. Instead Jade licked lower, soothing and savoring as she used her knowledge of Scarlet's body to lull her into relaxing.
And she did, slowly, her head easing back into the pillows. The flush returned to her skin, visible proof of Jade's success that fed her own arousal as she worked her tongue deeper. Mad's taste intensified, and she was twisted enough to love the perversity of it—the salty tartness on her tongue a preview of what it would be like when she wrapped her lips around his cock and sucked away Scarlet's sweetness.
Because she would. Scarlet was already trembling again, her hips arching restlessly—seeking instead of trying to escape now. She needed more and Jade would give it to her, so softly and gently that Scarlet wouldn't realize how close she was until she was screaming.
Dylan could still stop her. The clever hands resting so low on Jade's hips had turned into the lightest of leashes. A reminder of his presence, a slow burn of anticipation. She half-expected a hand in her hair or at the back of her head, pushing her forward or hauling her back. But even when she worked her way back up to Scarlet's clit and coaxed the other woman to the shuddering edge of pleasure, his grip remained easy.
So she gave in to her own desires and sent Scarlet flying.
There was no time to savor Scarlet's screams. The moment her first sharp cry split the air, Dylan tightened his grip on Jade's hips—and drove into her.
Dear God, he was big. Even though her thighs were slick with arousal, it almost hurt, an ache and a stretching pressure that left her muffling a cry of her own against Scarlet's pussy. Every nerve seemed to fire at once, wildly and randomly, as if the surprise of it was simply too much to handle.
She felt it in her fingertips. In her curled toes. All along her scalp, as if he'd gathered her hair in his fist after all—and she was so drunk on the feel of him that it took her a confused moment to realize someone had.
Mad. He gathered the strands and wrapped them around his fist, his dark gaze fixed on her as if seeing her for the first time. "What does she want that she shouldn't, Dylan?"
He answered through gritted teeth. "Go on, love. It's his turn. Shall we show him?"
Mad's cock w
as already mostly hard again, putting lie to everything her trainers had ever told her about the refractory period in men over thirty. It glistened, slick and wet from when Scarlet had come all over him.
The last time Jade had gotten on her knees before Mad, he'd hauled her upright with guilty horror in his eyes. How could he handle the knowledge that she would gleefully part her lips for him now? That she'd revel in having him close his fist until she was trapped, until the decision of what to do next was simply to either swallow him whole or let him choke her?
Her heart beat faster, and she closed her eyes. "Does he really want to know?"
"More than he wants his next breath," Dylan murmured.
Jade didn't know if she believed him. But she trusted him.
The moment her tongue found Mad's shaft, his hand tightened. Precisely—she had walked that line too many times not to recognize a master. Just enough pull to tingle all over, to raise the hair at the back of her neck in anticipation.
It gave her the courage to meet his gaze as she licked her way higher and paused with his crown balanced against her lower lip. "I could taste you inside Scarlet. I want more."
He hissed out a rough curse, and dangerous satisfaction slipped through her as lust darkened his eyes. "How much more, Jade?"
In answer, she swallowed half of him.
Dylan began to move—gently, at first, while she taunted Mad with her fluttering tongue and careful suction. She let Dylan control the pace and depth, moaning every time a slow, deep thrust rocked her forward onto Mad's cock.
But Mad held back, his body rigid, his expression tense, the muscles in his arm standing out as he followed the sway of her body with the fist in her hair, always tight but never pulling, never trapping, never forcing…
Doubt crept in, and she swatted it back. Told herself this was enough. Dylan pushing into her, his cock so thick and hard that even a slow rock provided enough friction to drive her wild. Mad on her tongue, making those low, harsh noises every time she took him, as if he couldn't handle how good it felt. Scarlet, watching with blissful, drowsy eyes, sparking a new level of arousal simply by being there.