This time when he lowered his face to kiss her, she rose and met him, ignoring the sting from her nipples as she pressed into him. Pleasure from his roaming caress intertwined with the message his warm lips and probing tongue issued, and she lost herself in his overwhelming masculine charisma. Arousal rekindled. When he stopped and raised his head, she followed his gaze. Guilt assailed her. Cocooned against Tristan, adrift in the passion he provoked in her, she’d forgotten Mage.
At casual glance, her black-haired captain stood impassive, hip-shot, his arms hanging lax from the bedposts. One look at his eyes or cock destroyed that impression. His proud shaft thrust forward from his groin, an angry red. His eyes blazed with green fury. His gaze accused her… but of what… and then shifted to pierce Tristan. She shivered at the silent battle the two men waged. Unease knotted her neck and shoulders. When the taut quiet stretched into minutes, the tension became intolerable.
“I don’t understand. I thought you dear friends. Why do you treat him so harshly?”
“Am I being harsh?” Tris said, continuing to exchange a steady stare with Mage. “Save for allowing you climax and him not, I’ve treated you more severely.”
Though Mage must have heard Tris, he gave no sign, simply continued to peruse them with blistering intensity. Tris dropped his gaze to her. “So I ask you, have I been harsh?”
“To be denied the object of your desire, forced to watch on the sidelines while they enjoy another is…” Her voice trailed off at Tristan’s cynical sneer.
“You’re certain it’s me he wants?” Tris looked away, his features softening with regret. “I behaved with extraordinary cruelty to Mage years ago—something I’ve been at pains to repair. But he’s thrown up obstacles as fast as I can tear them down. The only person who’s run from me faster than Mage is you. He knows this, yet he’s made you a condition to any physical relationship he and I might have.” Tris snorted. “Not the behavior of a man plagued by desire for me.”
Tris gave a dry laugh and looked straight at Mage. “Tonight, I’d hoped for time with him, alone, before… well… before. He angered me when he proposed something else. I suppose the feeling lingered.”
His gaze returned to her and gentled. His forefinger traced her lips, leaving a tingle in its wake. “I admit to welcome surprise when you said, ‘Stay.’ I didn’t think that would be your response.”
She’d been right. What she’d seen had been relief. A feeling of hopeful anticipation invaded her and a smile flirted with the corners of her mouth. “So… I’m not just an avenue to Mage?”
He shook his head slowly. A dissolute grin stretched his handsome features. “You never were. Magellan’s prerequisite simply required I change tactics.”
He sighed, stretched and disentangled himself from her and then rolled off the bed and walked to stand behind Mage. Though Tristan’s face remained shuttered and his voice cool, his hands betrayed him. His palms smoothed Mage’s deltoids with gentle appreciation, as if he couldn’t refrain from touching the man. “I’m going to free your hands.”
***
About time, you gods-be-damned piece of…Mage tensed under Tristan’s caress and vacillated between the desire to bloody Tristan’s too-handsome face or demand Tris deactivate the gods-be-damned neuro-blocker so he could fall on Angelica and fuck her silly. At the moment, physical violence had the upper hand, and it was on the tip of his tongue to tell Tristan to leave him bound or risk the consequences. With a self-discipline that required shuddering effort, he remained passive as Tris unclipped his wrists and then stepped back.
When he’d suggested Tristan direct Angelica’s “distraction,” Mage knew he’d be in for some heavy sexual frustration. He hadn’t anticipated just how much it would tantalize him to see Tristan and Angelica together; how much her untutored response to Tristan would inflame his arousal; how much the sight of Tristan’s hardened, sculptured, masculine frame would feed his lust.
When Tris stepped up the game by clipping his hands to the bedposts and adding the neuro-blocker, it was as if Tris loosed a feral beast inside him—and then Angelica added her mouth, her wicked, wicked mouth to provoke the untamed brute into rabid frenzy.
He’d always been a controlled lover. With the notable exception of his one night with Angelica, he’d conducted his sexual encounters with courtesy and self-control. That’s who he was. Other than Angelica, Tristan was the only person for whom Mage side-stepped his self-imposed requirement for restraint. His response to Tristan had always been intemperate, but Angelica and Tristan together generated a new scale of provocation. For Tristan to then deny him! Angelica was his. Tristan was his. This threesome was his idea. They belonged first to him. How dare Tris tell him no. The savage within screamed for retribution.
Yet, he’d also heard the stark vulnerability in Tristan’s dry response to Angelica. You’re certain it’s me he wants? A shard of pain pierced him. Tris doubted him. Fuck. He’d tell the man exactly how he felt. But first, he needed to calm down—if such a thing was even possible around Tristan.
Mage pulled long slow breaths into his lungs and consciously relaxed his muscles. He opened and closed his hands and rotated his wrists to restore circulation to hands that had gone numb. He lectured his heart to stop pounding so frantically, and then Tristan’s muscled thighs pressed into the back of his. The man’s right arm snaked around his waist and pulled gently. Mage allowed himself to be drawn back against Tristan’s chest. Another arm wrapped his shoulders and Tris rested his forehead on the back of his skull.
“I’m sorry,” Tris murmured. “In my life, I’ve used those words infrequently and almost exclusively to you.” His arms tightened around Mage.
Ah, Tris. Tristan. By Her light, he loved this man. Magellan’s rage deflated as if atmosphere from a ruptured airlock. He wrapped his arms on top of Tristan’s and gave a brief snort. “Don’t be such a pompous dickwit and you won’t have to say them to me.”
“Mmm. It’s genetic. You know my family. I come from an illustrious line of pompous dickwits. You’ll have to put up with me.”
Low laughter shook them both.
Mage straightened and turned in Tristan’s arms to face him. He rested his forearm casually on the man’s right shoulder to keep him from backing away. “I want to put up with you for the rest of my life.” A hand span from his face, Mage held Tristan’s gaze intently, willing the other man to understand the depth of his feeling. “Do you get what I’m trying to tell you?”
A corner of Tristan’s mouth quirked up and his eyes softened. “Yeah… I fucking get it, princess.”
Mage snorted in mild exasperation at the sobriquet—but let it pass. He turned toward Angelica. I’ll never have a better opportunity. She’d remained a silent witness, though she’d hung on every word. “I’d like you to be a part of this, Angel—the three of us. What do you say?”
Her eyes tracked to Tristan, a question in them. He shrugged. “Works for me, Doc, if it works for you.”
Angelica took a huge breath and blew it out slowly. “Yes. I’d like that.” She beamed at the two men. “I’d like that very much.”
Mage closed his eyes in satisfaction. Now hear this. This is your captain speaking. Docking module interface complete. They’d finally made safe harbor.
Chapter Twelve
In that moment, Tris decided to ignore the cynical voice within that urged a return to his comfortable facade of sarcasm and flippancy. He was going to play this straight and see what came of it. He’d never ask his captain to give up the Revertar, but because of Magellan’s occupation, he’d doubted the feasibility of anything permanent. Monogamy was no problem but he didn’t do celibacy—certainly not for months or years at a time. Inevitably, if Mage were gone long enough, he’d cheat and hate himself and then Mage for driving him to it. Mage deserved better. So Tris had rationalized. I’ll be his as long as we can make it work, and when I can’t… fuck… we’ll go our separate ways. But with Angelica as the anchor? That scenario changed things.
Optimism replaced fatalism. This could work.
“Now that we’ve had our tender moment…” he turned to Mage, “…get on the bed with Angelica. We’re not through.”
Mage straightened. His eyes pinned Tris. “Remove the neuro-block. I’ve reached my limit.”
“Are you asking me? Or telling me?”
“The Mother forbid I should ever tell you what to do. I’m asking.” A wry smile tilted the man’s delicious mouth. “I busted my ass to get back to you and Angelica. Don’t string me out any longer.”
Those sentiments echoed his own. He’d held himself in check with Mage. He wanted the scenarios he’d painted in his fantasies the last few nights, but he kept stumbling over that inescapable word, virgin. Tris slipped the cord over his neck and pressed the control. Mage hissed a quiet curse. Tris stepped to him, pried the silver oval from Magellan’s flesh and tossed it and the control to the bedside table.
“Now, get on the bed,” Tris murmured. Angelica surprised him when she rose and padded to him.
“Sir.” She stopped him with a gentle hand on his forearm. “You and Mage should have this time to yourselves—at least this first time.”
“This first…” Mage frowned. “You told her?”
Before he could marshal his thoughts, Angelica spoke.
“Tris told me he’d made mistakes with you he didn’t want to repeat. He said you’d never been together intimately. He asked for my professional insight.” She directed a sweet smile toward Mage and then him.
Mage looked at Tris and grinned. “Tristan asked you for advice on his sex life?”
Tris groaned. “Don’t let it go to your head, princess. Both of you, on the bed.”
As they climbed onto Angelica’s bed, Mage glanced at Tris. “Did you tell her…?”
Tris shook his head. “No.”
“What? Did he tell me what?” said Angelica.
Tris laughed quietly at the abashed expression on Magellan’s face.
“Eh.” Mage released an explosive sigh. “I’ve never been with a man. Tris will be my first.”
Angelica lost her balance and sat heavily. She leaned against the headboard with her hand held to her mouth. Laughter gleamed in her eyes. Tris could hardly wait. Whatever came out of her mouth was going to be stellar.
“You’re a virgin? My space-faring alpha male captain is a virgin with men! I’m beyond astonished. Is the galaxy blind? You’re such a beautiful man.” She bounced her gaze back and forth between him and Mage and wriggled happily. “Oh! This is so romantic.” She wrapped her arms around their black-haired captain, planted a tender kiss on his lips and announced, “This should be only the two of you.” She caught Tris with laughing violeteyes. “I’ll be in your bed downstairs.”
He and Mage watched, dumbfounded, as she hopped off her bed, gathered her robe and scampered to the door. She paused at the threshold and turned back with a sassy wiggle of eyebrows. “Be gentle, Sir.” She winked and disappeared. Her footsteps pattered down the stairs accompanied by muted sounds of delight.
The little mynx. Tristan shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips, and then turned to Mage. The man had propped himself up against the headboard, his fingers laced across his hard abdomen, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles in front of him. At his dour expression, Tristan turned a laugh into a cough and cleared his throat.
“Everyone has a first time, princess. There’s no shame in it.”
Mage growled and slid down to rest on a pillow, arms behind his head, and scrutinized the ceiling. “Stop calling me princess. I’m not ashamed. I just hadn’t planned on running the news up a flagpole.”
“Mmmhmm.” Tris slid onto the bed and lay on his side next to him. He couldn’t resist. He traced the indentations in Magellan’s ripped abs with his index finger and then flattened his entire hand to rest on the warm living silk of Mage’s skin. He could feel the pounding of his soon-to-be lover’s heart in the palm of his hand. It was only slightly faster than his. He leaned over and traced butterfly kisses along the fine line of dark hair that bisected Magellan’s midsection. Mage flinched but didn’t draw away.
“Angelica’s hardly a flagpole. She doesn’t gossip. Your unwarranted condition will stay between the three of us.” Tris grinned against Mage’s satin skin and then leaned back and caught Mage with a sober gaze. “I want this to be good for you. Talk to me.”
Mage pursed his lips and his glance slid to Tristan’s semi-arousal. “Mmm.”
“What do you like? What drives you crazy?”
“Hells’ breath. Whatever you do will blow my mind simply because it is you, Tristan-Fucking-DeHelios, doing it.”
***
Somehow, with Tris, the commander of the Revertar vanished and he became simply Magellan. He’d been on edge about this moment. Not so much the physical part, Tristan would make it spectacular. His caution centered upon what the act would do to him emotionally. While he was no longer that teen idolizing an older man, Tris still had the ability to touch him profoundly. He’d be wrecked if Tris—no, he wasn’t launching on that vector. Tris said he “got it.” He’d trust Tristan’s commitment.
Tris gave him a long considering look. Mage’s insides flipped and he could feel the rush of blood to his cock.
“Kiss me.” Tris ordered and flopped to his back. Tristan’s half-lidded gaze never stopped following him.
A smile slowly pulled the corners of his mouth as he rolled on top of Tristan’s muscled body and settled between his thighs. The warm, solid press of Tristan’s firming erection was a living presence against his abdomen and nested perfectly next to his own engorged flesh. By the Goddess! The feeling prodded the quiescent beast within him. He lowered himself down to rest on Tristan’s chest. His arms wrapped the man’s shoulders. He hovered a scant inch above Tristan’s face and breathed in the male scent unique to the man. Damnation… this was happening. It seemed surreal.
“What are you waiting for?” Tris murmured. “Kiss me.”
“Getting here has taken eight years. I’m savoring the moment.”
He ran his nose along Tristan’s bristled cheek, across his eyebrows, and nuzzled into the crook of his jaw. With the tip of his tongue, he traced a path to Tristan’s earlobe and sucked it into his mouth. He bit down gently and suckled. Tristan groaned.
“Shit. You don’t have to seduce me. We’re going to fuck. It’s a given. I want your mouth.”
Mage pulled back with a soft snort. “I thought to take my time.”
“Save the full reconnoiter for another day. Your mouth on mine, now.”
Mage swallowed his amusement at the terse words and obeyed Tristan’s demand. The warm press of Tristan’s lips cushioned his. His lover immediately opened to suck in his tongue. What was intended as an introduction, a prelude, morphed into a heated, lust-filled, full-body embrace—each man unleashing the tension of the past few hours in a wrestling match of domination that ended with Magellan on his back and the heavier, bigger Tristan astride his hips, pinning his wrists above his head.
Both sucked in air, their chests heaving. Mage’s painfully hard cock strained toward his navel as Tristan’s belly stroked a tease of hot flesh across him before the man bowed up to remain inches away. The fleeting pressure multiplied his desire for a faster pace. The fact this was Tristan prevented Mage from forcing the issue. He’d never have another first time with Tris.
“Stay like this. Don’t move or I will tie you,” Tris said through clenched teeth. His hot breath swept Mage’s face and Tristan’s rigid cock wept drops of fluid onto Mage’s abdomen.
“Yeah, yeah. Just get on with the fucking.” Mage’s mouth felt bruised and his cock jerked spasmodically as if pleading for another caress. The ragged torture he’d endured watching Tris take Angelica flooded back. Suddenly, he was no longer inclined to linger.
Tris gave a wicked chuckle as he worked his way down between Mage’s outstretched legs and shouldered one of his heavy thighs, opening him further. “You were the
one who wanted to savor the moment. Change your mind?”
Mage gasped out, “Yes!” as Tristan’s tongue lapped at the soft skin behind his balls. “Fuck! Yes!” he blurted, as Tristan’s mouth enveloped one testicle in a gentle roll, released it and performed the same ablution to the other. Mage’s ignored cock jerked in response to the gathering climax—until the hot slather of Tristan’s tongue worked its way up the midline of his shaft and teased the sensitive nerves under the flare of his glans. Carnal sensation deluged Mage and roiled in the base of his spine. The taunting play of Tristan’s tongue continued for what seemed a lifetime until his self-discipline shredded at the rise of imminent orgasm. He thrust his hips forward with a grunt, seeking greater contact, and encountered air.
“Where are you going?” he demanded as Tris pulled away. He slipped a hand from over his head to his abdomen and wrapped his pulsing cock. Damnation, it felt good. He could end the torture of the last few hours with a simple stroke. Temptation whispered, do it.
Tris raised an eyebrow as he picked through the drawer Mage had brought earlier. “That hand goes back above your head. Last warning.”
“I could really hate you, Tris.” With a low groan of protest, he made himself unfasten his fingers and slide his hand up to wrap the headboard instead of his throbbing cock. “No more teasing.”
Tris tossed a small object onto Mage’s belly.
He grunted in surprise and peered down his abdomen at a bottle of lube. “Ah… right. Forgot about that.”
Tris glided back on the bed and took up a position on his knees between Mage’s outstretched legs. “You’d hate me even more if I don’t use it.”
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