American Queen

by Sierra Simone

  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 his 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 desire.

  “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.

  He snaps his fingers and I scramble off the bed to kneel at his feet. “Stay here,” he orders, his eyes twinkling even though his face is serious. “I have to take a meeting with the expert.”

  He and Embry step away toward the window and begin talking together in low voices. I only catch a few words, but it seems like he’s asking Embry questions and Embry is answering. I hear the words both and comes first to get her as wet as possible and it should be you, you know it should be.

  And then Ash turns and walks over to the large armchair on the other side of the room, taking a seat with his bare feet planted firmly on the floor and his thighs spread wide. Even naked, he looks regal and kingly, his hard cock reaching up to his navel and resting against his belly, the sack below his penis large and heavy-looking.

  “Crawl,” he instructs.

  I crawl.

  In my wedding dress, with Embry trailing like some sort of palace knight behind me, I crawl to my lord and master, hyperaware of every sensation. The diamonds still heavy in my ears, the sound of lace and tulle rustling along the carpet, the prickling awareness of Embry stalking along behind me, as if to make sure I don’t escape.

  Like this, it’s easy to pretend that I am some sort of captured princess being hauled before her captor-king, or the bride in an arranged marriage facing the tyrant she now belongs to. A frisson of excited fear shoots down my spine at the thought.

  Leave it to Ash to cherish me by making me crawl.

  When I reach his feet, I know better than to look up at him. Instead, I gracefully settle back onto my knees, my toes tucked together underneath my dress and my arms behind my back in a box position. I keep my eyes down, even though I know the slightest flick upwards would reward me with the sight of that thick, delicious cock and those hard, hair-dusted thighs.

  I stare at the carpet.

  “She’s well-trained,” Embry remarks.

  “Well, she wanted to be trained, unlike other people I know.” The words are pointed. Then I feel his finger on my chin. I look up and meet his eyes, the color of sharp bottle glass. “On your feet, princess.”

  I rise, feeling the expensive skirts of the dress unfold around me as I do.

  “Beautiful,” is all he says. And then his gaze moves to Embry. “Undress her for me.”

  Embry obeys, his fingers easily working through the buttons and laces at the back of my gown, plucking them loose and freeing them. The dress opens up in back, and habit causes me to put my hands on the bodice to keep it from falling. Embry forces them both down and then roughly tugs the dress down past the petticoat underneath, tossing the gown carelessly aside. The petticoat comes next and then I’m standing there wearing only my corset, my stockings and my garter belt.

  “The corset too,” Ash says. “I want to see her breasts.”

  Embry unlaces the corset as easily as he did my dress, making me wonder how much practice he’s had getting women out of outfits like this. And then I decide I don’t want to know.

  The corset loosens and is peeled away, revealing my breasts, which are high and firm and aching. My nipples, already tight little furls, grow even tighter in the cool air, under the gaze of both these men.

  Ash’s cock jumps at the sight, but he seems otherwise unaffected, and his voice is casual when he says, “Turn around, princess. Just like that. You really are so beautiful.”

  When I’m facing him again, he lifts a finger and gestures to Embry. “Show me her pussy.”

  I shiver as I feel Embry press against me, his cock so hot against my hip it feels like it could brand my skin. He hooks a hand behind one knee, lifting it up and then spreading me wide, so that I’m balanced on the ball of my foot while Ash leans forward to inspect my cunt. He doesn’t say anything, just looks and probes with two indifferent fingers.

  “Hold still,” Embry whispers in my ear. “Because if he likes what he sees, he’ll put his cock in you. Would you like that?”

  I nod, whimpering as Ash continues his nonchalant inspection of my cunt. His fingers make a wide vee and separate my folds while he reaches up with his other hand to pull back the skin of my clitoral hood, exposing the swollen bud underneath. He presses a thumb against it—doesn’t rub it or strum it, just presses—and I practically collapse. Embry keeps me upright.

  “Responsive,” Ash comments, removing his thumb and fin
gers. I moan at the loss.

  “Would you like me to see if she's wet inside?” Embry asks.

  Ash leans back and gives an indifferent nod. Only the painful-looking throb of his cock and the heat in his eyes tell me that he's only playing a game, setting a scene, pushing all of my buttons in exactly the way only he knows how.

  Embry reaches around from behind me, still keeping my leg slung over his other arm, and slides his hand over my mound. The moment he makes contact with my pubic bone, I whimper. The moment he pushes two fingers inside me, I cry out, reaching back and grabbing at his neck for balance.

  "Oh yes," Embry rasps. "She's wet."

  "Wet enough for my cock?"

  "Most certainly."

  Ash purses his lips and thinks for a moment, then says, "You have ten seconds to get her dripping."

  I don't understand what he means, but Embry does, setting my leg down and dropping to his knees in front of me. Without so much as a glance upwards, he presses his face into my cunt and begins licking me. Long, flat strokes, the apex of each stroke ending with a gentle suckle of my clit. My hands go to Embry's hair at the same time my eyes go to Ash's face, and for the moment, the mask has dropped and I see exactly how he feels. On the arm of the chair, his hand is clenched into an angry fist and his jaw is tight with restraint. But the slit at the top of that perfect dick is glistening with pearly drops of arousal and his pulse is pounding in his neck and those green eyes finally meet mine with searing, furnace-like love.

  "Show me your wedding ring," he commands. "Show it to me."

  I slide my left hand over the top of Embry's head so Ash can see the ring.

  "Whom do you belong to?"

  "You, Mr. President."

  "You're fucking right about that. Ten seconds are up," Ash says. "She better be soaking wet."

  Embry pulls back with a reluctant groan. "She is. I made sure of it."

  "Good." Ash spreads his legs a little wider. "Put her on top of me. And then put my cock inside her."