Mage choked out a rough laugh. “I don’t think I care at this point.”
A single eyebrow arched over a silver eye. “Oh, you’d care, lover.” Tris leaned over him, bracing one arm beside his head, and lowered down for a caress of a kiss. “And I’d care that I’d hurt you. I might be intentionally rough but I’m never careless—not with those who matter to me.”
“Nice to know I mah… matter,” Mage stuttered as Tris flipped the top off the bottle and poured a stream of clear lubricant over his straining erection and balls. The viscous fluid tickled as it oozed between Mage’s ass cheeks.
Tris rimmed his anus with a gentle finger, spreading the slippery solution. The feeling, not entirely foreign from the anal plugs Mage had played with, stoked the urgent demand from his cock. Tris wrapped his own heavy shaft with an oily hand and stroked slowly as his fingers teased inside Mage, first one finger and then two, transferring the lubricant around and into his anus.
“I could take you an easier way, but I want to watch your face as I possess you. Pull your knees up, lover.”
The bulbous head of Tristan’s hard cock pressed. Both men grunted as the pressure increased and Tris gained entry. Tristan’s eyes locked on his. Intimate messages of desire and submission, triumph and surrender flew across the small space that divided them. It was as if each man poured his soul into the other with the joining of their bodies.
“Ah, fuck…” Mage whispered at the stretching, biting discomfort.
“Try to relax and bear down.”
Mage closed his eyes and tried—with mixed results.
Tris won inexorable inches until finally hilting within him. His slippery hand wrapped Mage’s failing erection and began a stroking motion that swiftly brought it back to full hardness. Mage groaned, caught between the conflicting sensations of intense pleasure and nipping discomfort. Pleasure won.
“Harder and faster, Tris… your hand.” The man obliged, sliding his slippery fist to the base of Mage’s cock and then up in a swirling motion around its head in a firmer, quicker tempo.
“Ah…Goddess… that’s good. Ah, fuck… that’s good.” Now that the moment was upon him, despite his words to the contrary, Mage blessed the free use Tristan had made of the lube. He shuddered at the thought of the alternative.
“Look at me. You okay, princess?”
“Yeah.” He met and held Tristan’s smoldering eyes, and the overwhelming significance of who was having sex with him added poignancy to the moment. “Better than okay. Stop calling me… ah, shit! Do that again.”
“This?” Tristan’s wicked smile accompanied the slow withdrawal of his shaft and then an equally unhurried glide forward. As Tristan rocked gently, the fat head of his cock passed back and forth over the intensely sensitive area of Mage’s prostate. The easy slide of greased flesh past his sphincter muscles created unparalleled sensation. The combination spiraled his arousal past control.
“Yeah.” Mage moaned. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the spikes of ecstasy building to an inescapable culmination. “Ah… shit, Tris. I’m going to come.”
Mage opened his eyes to see Tristan’s head thrown back, his jaw clenched, eyes staring blindly, also entrapped in the carnal spell he’d been weaving. To know that gorgeous man was equally lost in him—ah, it was too much. With a warning growl, he locked Tris to him with his legs, covered the hand Tris had wrapped around his cock with his own and surrendered to the cataclysm. He came for fucking ever. Each pulse of his shaft slammed pleasure through his body until he arched off the bed, his muscular thighs ensuring Tris stayed implanted.
With a low growl of his own, Tris pitched forward, joining Mage in the ultimate pleasure.
Both men collapsed. Nostrils flared as they fought for breath.
“Oh, Goddess. I don’t think I can move.” Draped by the strong body of his lover, Mage didn’t want to. My lover. He closed his eyes and lay as a dead man, a brilliant smile growing on his face. Damnation, he was happy.
“Was it worth the eight-year wait?” Tristan’s muffled voice emerged from where his face rested in the crook of Mage’s neck.
Was it worth—by the Mother! How do I tell him? Mage searched for the words. There had to be something he could say beyond a simple yes. Evidently, his answer took too long. With a curse, Tris freed the hand trapped between their bellies, pushed himself up and peered at Mage.
He must have liked what he saw. A pleased expression crossed his face and he grunted, “Good,” before collapsing again on Mage’s chest.
At the risk of sounding like the princess Tristan labeled him, Mage ventured, “Was it good… ah, did you…?”
“You were fucking incredible,” Tris said, rescuing Mage from a total surrender of his manhood.
“Yeah?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely. Now shut up. You’re ruining my post-coital bliss.”
Mage tried to temper the absurd smile on his face—he really did—but it remained stubbornly in place, lingering until Tris finally pushed up and rolled over. They lay on their backs until Tristan’s regular breathing deepened and Mage thought the man dozed. His unruly thoughts wouldn’t allow him such an escape. They centered on Angelica. I want more… with her. He turned his head to regard his lover and prodded Tris with his elbow.
“Tris.”
“Hmm?”
“I want Angelica.”
“Wha…?”
“I want Angelica to join us.”
“My bed’s bigger. We go to her.”
Chapter Thirteen
Angelica lay on her side, snuggled in the middle of Tristan’s vast bed, drowsing. Cool air rushed under lifted covers to hit her bare skin, and then two lean male bodies snugged to the front and back of her and enrobed her in hard muscles and musky male scent. She knew that smell. Green eyes and a wicked smile met her drowsy gaze. Magellan.
“Wake up, Angel.”
“Umm…I’m awake.” A strong arm wrapped her waist from behind and Tristan pulled her dead weight close against him. The ease with which he accomplished the maneuver left her feeling insubstantial, a mere wisp compared to his masculine bulk. Sandwiched between their bodies, engulfed by protective male, she reveled in the feeling. While she cherished her independence, she found much to recommend in men who could, and would, keep a woman safe. This is what separated Verdantian men from the rest of the civilized universe. What could possibly harm her when surrounded by such men as Mage and Tristan? I feel safe. Such a luxury.
Until this moment, Angelica hadn’t realized the extent to which apprehension had weighed her down. She thought she’d dealt effectively with the emotional fallout from the attacks on her life. But now? She felt unburdened, as if she’d dropped a weighty load. Only one question deflated her exuberant high. How long will this last?
Mage had told Tris he wanted to “put up” with him the rest of his life. Was she included in that equation? Or was she an interchangeable part—no commitment beyond his current stay in port? And what about Tristan? Before she lost all her heart to these men, she must know.She opened her mouth to ask.
Magellan’s lips pressed hers in exploration. His tongue invaded her mouth in a passionate sweep, tangling with hers before it withdrew, only to plunge in again as he drove all sleep from her brain and replaced it with burgeoning arousal. Tristan buried his nose in the tender crook of her neck and aided Magellan’s assault with gentle nips followed by kisses and licks to soften the sting. Need dissolved her into a languid mound of flesh.
Tristan slid upward and dragged her with him as he sat on a mound of bed pillows propped against the headboard and held her back-to-chest. Boneless with relaxation, she allowed him to arrange her arms and legs as if she were in truth the tiny doll he made her feel like. When he settled, his arms wrapped her waist, trapping her arms and hands beneath his. She lay back against him with her head cradled on his left bicep, and her legs lay atop his heavy thighs in a widespread vee, receptive and inviting.
The two men must have exchanged a si
lent signal, because Mage’s eyes heated and his expression became intent. Moving between her legs, he leaned over and palmed her breast before gently sucking its tip into his mouth and rolling his tongue over the distended nipple. Soreness from their previous play bit her sharply and she hissed. He pulled back with a murmured, “That answers my question. You are unusually sensitive. I’ll assume equally so here?” He shifted back enough to move between her legs and press her clit with a flattened tongue, his eyes gauging her reaction.
She tensed, ready to retreat.
“Umm, yes. Sensitive here, too.” A crooked smile stretched Magellan’s mouth. “I’m going to take full advantage of that.”
Between the clefts of her ass cheeks, she felt the stir of Tristan’s unaroused cock. Without thought, she undulated to provide him with stimulation.
A laugh born deep in Tristan’s chest vibrated against her back. “I’ve been awake for forty-eight hours. I’ve come twice in the last three. I appreciate your confidence in my virility, but even I have my limits. Wiggle all you want. It always feels good, but I’m strictly an observer this time.” He groaned softly. “Though if Mage continues what he’s doing now, he might get a rise out of me yet.”
Between her legs sensation built in response to Mage’s careful tongue as he caressed the entire length of her flesh. From Tristan’s response, verbally and physically, Mage also took opportunistic advantage of the placement of Tristan’s balls to tease him.
Magellan’s soft growl returned her focus to him. “You are still wet from before. I can’t wait.” Kneeling, he took himself in hand and centered himself at her opening. “Tell me if I hurt you.”
He held her gaze as he pressed in slowly. Her flesh protested the invasion, but he’d been right. She was wet. She didn’t know if his penetration felt good or bad. It stung as she stretched to accommodate him, but the pull on her hypersensitive clit sent spears of gratification throughout her groin. When hilted fully, the pressure from his pubic bone against the hard nub accelerated her pleasure and it wasn’t long before cascading sensations flooded her lower body and masked any discomfort.
She pulled long inhales and exhales through her nose in time with Magellan’s. Flaring her eyes at the slow glide of his hard flesh through her delicate, engorged tissue, she moaned softly and bit her lower lip.
“Good?” he asked.
“Mmmhmm.”
His gaze shifted to above her head. A subtle wickedness appeared on Magellan’s face and he leaned forward and captured Tris in a forceful kiss. When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against Tristan. “I can’t describe how fucking awesome it is to kiss you while I’m sunk in hot Angelica.” With a vigorous exhale, he straightened and pushed his hips forward.
The sharp bite she felt as he hit the end of her fed her arousal. The prolonged slide as Mage withdrew a millimeter at a time teased her intimate flesh with heady pleasure. “I never want this to end.”
“Really?” Tristan tightened his arms around her. “I’m onboard with keeping you permanently wet and willing.”
“That wasn’t what I meant.”
She felt his body shift as he chuckled. “Mage, how long can you keep this up?” Tris curled over her and nuzzled beneath her neck with small nips, observing the activity between their legs as his arms entrapped her.
Her black-haired lover grunted as another slow thrust hit her limits. “An hour?” His wry laugh carried strain. “Perhaps less.”
Tris paused in his nibbling and groaned. “Look at you two—your cock, wet with her juices, fucking her stretched and swollen pussy. Shit, I don’t know how she takes all of you.” He swore under his breath. “Any other time, this visual alone would get me off.”
Tris kept up a running barrage of erotic description, verbally painting graphic visuals that amplified the physical stimulation to heightened levels and affected Angelica as much as they obviously affected Mage. He lasted little more than thirty minutes—though it seemed an eternity. By the time Mage sank his fingers into her ass and came in a frenzy of shortened thrusts, she’d become a mewling, quivering wreck. As his pelvis battered her most sensitive nerves and Tristan growled appreciative obscenities, the over-stimulated tissue of her inner channel fibrillated wildly and then transitioned into hard, rhythmic contractions. The pleasure destroyed her from within. If not for Mage pinning her to Tristan’s chest, she would have collapsed to the bed like an imploded building. Movement was impossible. Coherent thought seemed beyond her. An hour? A little overconfident, weren’t you, Captain DeLan? Smug pleasure at the thought he’d been thrown off his game rippled through her.
“By the Consort’s balls, that was hot,” Mage said.
“Fuck.” Appreciation filled Tristan’s rasp. “The sight and sound of you both… yeah. Now, get off me. You’re crushing my balls.”
Mage flopped onto his back, and with a groan, Tris picked Angelica up and snugged her between them. She oozed down the bed until her head nested into a pillow, rolled to her side and closed her eyes. In the seconds before she lost the battle with sleep, she felt Tris and Mage sandwich her between them. She felt divinely happy and impossibly satiated—but she still didn’t know how long it would last.
***
“Creator DeHelios, you have an incoming message tagged urgent. Please wake up, sir.” A soft chime followed and then silence.
Tristan threw his arm over his face. He was moving for nothing less than the end of the world. Whoever it was would have to wait.
“Creator DeHelios, you have an incoming communication with an urgent tag. How would you like me to respond?”
A soft chime followed and then silence.
“Creator DeHelios, you—”
“Shut the fuck up!” I’m going to fucking disconnect the gods-be-damned AI.Tristan groaned and covered his head with a pillow. The action proved futile. The repetitive chime of an incoming message of some urgency rousted him from heaven. With his morning wood snugged between the sweet ass cheeks of Angelica Giverny and the muscled calf of Magellan DeLan entangled with his, who could argue he wasn’t in heaven? Through scratchy eyeballs, he peered at the timekeeper mounted on the wall. Three fucking hours of sleep in the last sixty. Growling, he abandoned the warm paradise of his bed and stalked to the commdevice. He braced an arm against the wall and slammed the “receive” button. He worked to clear the rasp from his throat. “DeHelios.”
“It’s about time you answered. I’m in Angelica’s apartment. She never came to work and her apartment is vacant. I’m coming down.” Ramsey’s concerned bark echoed off the walls of his room. Tris winced and turned down the volume. He cast a glance at the bed. Two dark heads remained nestled together in the middle.
“Give me a…” Tris rolled his eyes at the silence on the other end. The man’s rapid steps could be heard descending the inner stairs. Tristan looked around, grabbed a pair of black pants hanging on the back of a chair and made quick work of getting into them. He’d no more pulled them up when Ramsey strode into the room.
“Do you know where she is?”
A sleepy Angelica propped herself up on one elbow, discreetly covered. “I’m right here, Lord DeKieran. I’m quite safe.”
Mage sat up cautiously, groggy inquiry on his face. Tris shrugged. Damned if he knew what Ramsey was doing here.
Ram observed Tristan’s two bedmates and then swung a penetrating gaze to him. Ramsey stood, hands on hips, one eyebrow raised.
Tris cleared his throat. “I’m keeping her under close observation.”
“Apparently. Who’s the male?”
“Ah…”
“Magellan DeLan,” Mage supplied, not waiting for Tristan’s introduction. Mage flipped the covers off, walked around the end of the bed to Ramsey and held out his hand. “Captain Magellan DeLan of the VNV Revertar. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord DeKieran. Angelica has spoken of you. Thank you for your work on Vxloncia.”
Goddess bless Magellan. He was so damnably smooth. He stood unruffled, as bare as the
Great Mother made him, and shook Ramsey’s hand. Tris watched Ramsey’s irritation morph into amusement and then heat with appreciation as Ram stood eye-to-eye with his delicious lover. Tris could hardly blame the man when his gaze slipped a little south. The view was exceptional.
Ram nodded at Mage and turned to Tris. “Accompany me.”
Tris muttered, “Give me a minute,” to Mage and Angelica and then followed Ram out of the bedroom.
Ram stopped a short distance from the open door and crossed his arms. “I can’t fault your taste. How long has this been going on?”
“Not long.”
Ramsey’s eyebrow lifted and his gaze intensified. “Don’t let it interfere with her safety.”
“Of course. I haven’t told her about the ‘meks,’ but I will. I’d planned a discussion with both Angelica and Mage over a late breakfast.”
Ram snorted at his emphasis. “Magellan DeLan. Wasn’t he the young foster your mother took in?”
“Yes.”
A tiny smile played at the edges of Ramsey’s mouth and the man’s posture relaxed. “Attractive man.”
Abruptly, DeKieran was all business again. “I want Dr. Giverny confined to quarters until we can acquire more intel on the mekanikos. From what Tok said last night, until we have a base location for them in Arkodaenia, it will be almost impossible to anticipate their movements. We can track them. They give off a unique electronic signal, but without an origination point…” The man shrugged.
“Yeah, in a city this size, we’d have to get very, very lucky to detect them.”
Ramsey considered Tristan and amusement flickered in his steel gray eyes. “I doubt remaining sequestered with Giverny and DeLan will be hard duty.”
Tristan idly scratched the diagonal welt on his chest. “Not a hardship, no.”
“Quite a tempting pair. Giverny and DeLan would make stunning subjects for téad de ghrásta, if you still practice the art.”
“I do, though I’m not the artista maestro with the ropes that you are.”
Hers to Captivate Page 14