Éamon followed Jonathan’s lead, joining Devon, Kit, and Glynn on the king-size bed. He paused to kiss his lover lingeringly before nudging his way into Glynn’s place between Devon and Kit. “I want a taste too,” he requested, licking his way up Kit’s chest to his nipples.
“He’s all yours,” Glynn offered, turning his full attention on Devon instead.
Kit moaned as Éamon sucked his nipples, but he caught sight of Jonathan, not involved with either of their guests, and reached out a hand toward him. “Come here,” he purred. “I want a kiss.”
Kneeling alongside Kit, Jonathan bent to capture his mouth, watching beneath lowered lids as Éamon worked his way down the smooth torso. The Irishman seemed just as fascinated by Kit’s birthmark as Jonathan was himself, and Kit arched beneath the teasing nibbles.
A groan from the other side of the bed caught Jonathan’s attention. Devon had straddled Glynn’s hips, dragging their cocks together as he tugged at Glynn’s nipples. Draping his thighs over Devon’s calves, Glynn cupped Devon’s arse and rocked him forward, increasing the friction between them.
Kit stroked Jonathan’s cheek, drawing his attention again. “Go over there and rim Devon if you want. You know he’ll enjoy it.” He started to say more, to encourage Jonathan to participate in whatever way was comfortable for him, but Éamon’s mouth on his cock distracted him, leaving him gasping and squirming as his shaft slid down the Irishman’s throat.
Since Éamon had Kit well in hand—or rather, in mouth—Jonathan moved over them with care to crouch behind Devon. “Lean forward,” he murmured, turning Devon’s head enough to claim a deep kiss before nudging him downward. Glynn pulled Devon down the rest of the way, covering his mouth. Jonathan’s palms slid over the planes of Devon’s back, covering Glynn’s, which were still cradling Devon’s cheeks. He nudged them gently to the sides, leaning in to swipe his tongue down Devon’s crease. Instead of slipping away, Glynn’s fingers tangled with his, the combined touch inviting Devon to push his hips into Jonathan’s questing tongue and lips.
The combination of Éamon’s mouth and the erotic tableau presented by the other three men was enough to have Kit begging. “Somebody has got to fuck me,” he pleaded. “Now!”
“That’s an offer I’ve been waiting weeks to hear,” Glynn said, wriggling out from under Devon. “Point me in the direction of the condoms and the lube and I’m your man.”
Kit jerked open the drawer, finding the lube immediately and a few stray condoms in the back after another moment. He tossed them in Glynn’s direction. The other man caught them deftly and moved between Kit’s widespread thighs, leaning down to mouth at the tendon connecting his thigh to his hip as he coated his fingers and began stretching Kit’s entrance.
Éamon slid into the space Glynn vacated, watching for a moment as Devon pulled Jonathan up into a kiss. As soon as they came up for air, he ran a hand up each torso, pulling at the fine hair dusting Jonathan’s chest. “I hope you’re willing to share,” he murmured with a smile to Devon before urging Jonathan down into a kiss. “Fuck me, Jonathan?”
Before Jonathan could draw breath to answer, Devon had retrieved another condom from the drawer. Taking the lube from where Glynn had dropped it, he pressed them both into Jonathan’s hand. “Go ahead, Jon,” he urged. “And once you’re inside him, I’ll fuck you.”
“Oh hell.” Devon’s voice had fallen into the husky register that was nearly enough to get Jonathan off just listening to it. Squeezing some lube over his fingers, he did his best to focus on opening Éamon while Devon helpfully rolled the condom onto his cock.
“Fuck, yeah,” Éamon gasped, planting his heels on the mattress to press onto Jonathan’s fingers. “Now, Jonathan. Do it.” Slicking himself generously, Jonathan moved into position between Éamon’s legs and pushed slowly against the tight ring of muscle. Two of Devon’s fingers slid inside Jonathan, pressing with intimate knowledge against his sweet spot, at the same moment Éamon relaxed enough for Jonathan to slip inside. Resisting the urge to rock back against Devon’s twisting fingers, Jonathan slid deeper by slow degrees, leaning forward to nuzzle Éamon’s neck and make it easier for Devon to move into place behind him.
Kit groaned when Glynn added a third finger, stretching him urgently. “Enough,” he rasped. Glynn took him at his word, withdrawing his fingers and lining his cock up at the glistening entrance, surging forward with the same force of will that had shone in Bors’s eyes as they argued over Lancelot. Kit gasped and shifted, eyes rolling back in his head as his body reacted to the stimulation. Blinking rapidly, he turned his head so he could see his lovers, Devon driving into Jonathan as Jonathan thrust into Éamon. Needing that connection with them, he reached out, his hand resting lightly on Jonathan’s knee as he arched into the pummeling Glynn was giving him.
The touch to his leg drew Jonathan’s attention from the dual sensations assailing him. Even though he knew Devon was behind him, filling him, he blinked to see a dark head rather than a blond one bending forward to plunder Kit’s lips. Reaching out to thread his fingers between Kit’s, Jonathan threw his head back as the heat around and inside him grew and welled. Leaning back into the pressure of Devon’s chest, he closed his other hand around Éamon’s cock, fisting it with short, choppy strokes until his climax erupted, Éamon spilling through his fingers seconds later.
The touch of Jonathan’s hand did what all Glynn’s skill could not, tipping Kit over the edge of his release, his body clenching around the invading member as his cock disgorged its load. He forced his eyes open to fix on Jonathan and Devon, maintaining the connection with his lovers.
Devon felt Jonathan clench and tremble around him, heard Éamon’s and Glynn’s groans as they found their release, but not until he met Kit’s eyes and watched his face tense and slack with the force of his climax did he allow himself to let go. Pulling Jonathan upright and turning his head into a kiss, he shuddered through his own fierce orgasm, not releasing Jonathan’s lips until the last aftershocks died away.
Five bodies collapsed on the bed, Éamon and Glynn gravitating together at the same time Kit moved toward Jonathan and Devon. As physically satisfying as the sex had been, Kit needed the emotional connection he only had with his lovers. They pulled him against them, clearly sharing his need, arms encircling him and each other to reestablish the bond between them. Lust sated, Kit trembled at the thought that they might have inadvertently damaged this link, and his embrace tightened as if he could stave off any threat if only he could cling hard enough.
Wrapping his arms around his lovers, Jonathan glanced at Glynn and Éamon, who were trading their own warm kisses. He shifted uneasily, feeling an awkwardness he hadn’t experienced since his earliest relationships. Would they want to spend the night? He’d rather be alone with Kit and Devon, but there was no way to suggest that without sounding crassly rude. He realized he wasn’t even at his own house, but among the three of them it had stopped mattering whose bed they wound up in—it was always theirs. Except now it was apparently Glynn’s and Éamon’s too. Jonathan bit back a wry chuckle at trying to navigate the etiquette of a five-way fuck.
After a few moments, Glynn and Éamon rose from the bed. “Thanks, guys. It’s been fun,” Glynn said with a grin. “We’ll see you on set tomorrow.”
He grabbed his clothes and started getting dressed. “Don’t get up,” Éamon added. “We’ll see ourselves out. And obviously, as far as anyone outside the room is concerned, this never happened.”
“I’ll see you down.” Devon disentangled himself and pulled on a pair of boxers, hoping they were his. Maybe it was strange to worry about covering up after what they’d just shared, but while his ingrained courtesy wouldn’t let him lie in bed while their guests left, he didn’t feel like parading in front of them starkers. Glancing over his shoulder at Jonathan and Kit, who made muffled goodbye-sounding noises, he escorted Éamon and Glynn downstairs and saw them out.
Turning back as he started down the porch steps, Éamon m
et Devon’s eyes. “I probably should have said this before, but tonight caught me a little off guard. Glynn and I have a rule: we don’t ever invite the same outsider—or outsiders, in this case—into our bed a second time. I hope there won’t be any hard feelings.”
Surprised at the surge of relief that swept through him, Devon smiled. “No hard feelings. It was good, though.”
“It was,” Éamon agreed with a grin. “If anyone could make us reconsider our rule, it would be you three, but to tell the truth, I can only share him for so long before I need him to myself again, so I know it’s better this way. Enjoy the rest of your night.” He waved once more as he walked out to the car and joined Glynn, pulling his lover’s head down for another kiss before backing out of the driveway and disappearing into the night.
Jonathan was curled around Kit when Devon reentered the bedroom, the younger man’s head pillowed on his chest. The unusual position was clue enough that the experience had thrown his lovers off-kilter; his own reaction to Éamon’s caveat was equally telling. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he reached out to touch, sliding a hand into each man’s hair. “Still okay?” he asked softly.
Kit looked up at Devon, reaching for him and pulling him back down. “Yeah,” he said slowly, “but I have to admit, I’m not in any hurry to do it again. I… I missed you. The sex was fine, but I’ve gotten spoiled, making love with you two all the time.”
“That’s just it, I think,” Jonathan added slowly. “It felt good, but something was missing when I couldn’t feel that connection with the two of you. Just good sex isn’t good enough anymore. Not when you’ve shown me how much more there can be.”
“It isn’t an option again anyway.” Devon lowered himself to spoon against Jonathan’s side, wrapping an arm over his chest to touch Kit. “It seems they have a rule never to do anyone more than once.”
“That makes things easier where they’re concerned,” Kit agreed. “We don’t have to worry about hard feelings spilling over onto the set. But what about later? If someone else approaches one or more of us?”
Though his gut insisted he’d had enough of sharing his lovers, Jonathan knew it wasn’t a reasonable reaction. They were going to go their separate ways after filming, and even though he was convinced they’d find a way to keep their relationship going after Camelot ended, he couldn’t expect Devon and Kit to go months or more without someone else catching their eye. Could he? “It’s sure to happen,” he said quietly. “Maybe not while we’re still together, but later….”
Kit shuddered. “I don’t even want to think about later, but I know we have to. I’ll be honest. I was never very good at sharing, and that’s even truer than usual where you two are concerned. It would have to be someone utterly amazing for me to even consider risking what we have by bringing someone else into our bed again. And the thought of doing it without you there at all is totally unappealing. At least if you’re there, I have some connection to you.”
“‘Later’ will get here sooner than any of us wants to think about.” Devon tried to keep the sting of that thought out of his voice. “And I have to admit I have no desire to think about any of us with anyone else. If nothing else, because going back to using condoms again is a bloody pain.”
“What about this?” Jonathan suggested. “We have to expect that once we’re apart, any of us might find someone who appeals to us. But we all have to agree before anyone acts on it.”
“And we all have to be there,” Devon added.
“Are you sure?” Not that his heart didn’t agree, but Jonathan was afraid that rule would prove easier said than done. “It may be hard for even two of us to get together once filming ends, let alone all three of us.”
“At the moment, I’m having trouble picturing someone special enough to want to share you with at all,” Kit insisted, “but I can’t imagine what it would do to me to know you two were together and with a third who wasn’t me. That would be… like having my heart ripped out of my chest. I don’t know that I could handle it. And if I can’t handle it, I don’t want to expect either of you to have to go through it either.”
“Tonight was proof enough for me that I don’t want anyone but the two of you,” Jonathan asserted. “But would you do that? Give up being with anyone else for the few times we might be able to be together?”
Kit cuffed Jonathan lightly on the back of the head, the odd angle keeping the blow from doing any damage. “I already told you I love you, you prat. I don’t want anyone else but you and Devon. I haven’t since the moment I laid eyes on you, tonight notwithstanding. I’m not naïve. I know it won’t be easy, but I’m not going to make it more difficult by adding infidelity to the distance we’ll have to figure out how to span.”
“My track record in relationships may not be very good, but it’s never been because of infidelity.” Devon rubbed Jonathan’s head where Kit had bopped it, then rubbed over Kit’s curls for good measure. “I’ll make do until my hand falls off before I risk what we have for some meaningless fuck.”
“Why make do with your own hand when you can have mine?” Kit joked.
Devon grinned and flopped onto his back. “What are you waiting for then, boy? Service me!”
“Who made you king?” Jonathan laughed with sudden joy before leaning down to pull both his lovers into a kiss. He still wasn’t sure how, but he finally believed they’d make this amazing relationship last even when filming was ended.
Chapter 25: Making Their Mark
KIT SHIFTED nervously on the stool at the tattoo parlor, itching to reach for Devon’s hand in comfort as the buzz of the tattooist’s gun got louder. That Jonathan looked sublimely unconcerned as the needle pierced the skin of his inner thigh repeatedly did not have any effect on Kit’s edginess. He had never liked needles, even before his back surgery, so being here, agreeing to this, was a real test of courage on his part.
They had decided on tattoos as a way to commemorate their relationship in a permanent but discreet manner. Kit grinned still to think of Devon’s reaction to his first suggestion, since obviously they could not wear rings. “Nobody would notice another charm on my necklace,” Kit had proposed, liking the idea of having some outward mark of their commitment to one another.
Devon had glared at him as if the very idea offended his masculinity. “If I turned up sporting a necklace, I can guarantee someone would comment on it.”
“I’ve gotten tattoos to commemorate the special events in my life,” Jonathan had interjected, heading off Kit’s incipient protest that there was nothing inappropriate about his charm necklace. “I’ve been trying to decide what kind of design to get for this, because the role that brought me the two of you is definitely something I want to mark that way. I know Devon doesn’t have a problem with tattoos either, but is that something you might consider, Kit?”
It wasn’t something Kit had ever really thought about before, but beyond the thought that it would hurt—other than the occasional spanking, he really wasn’t into pain; he’d had enough of that with his back—he didn’t have a reason to say no.
“It’s looking good,” Devon commented, leaning in for a closer look when the tattooist paused to reload his ink gun. “You did a great job with the design, Jon.” The outline of the stylized Grail cup was already visible, in preparation for the Celtic scrollwork design that would fill it.
“I think it will look good when it’s finished,” Jonathan agreed. “I couldn’t think of a better symbol for what this time has meant to me than the Holy Grail.” He smiled at Devon and Kit, knowing they’d understand the deeper meaning behind his words. The tattoo shop they’d selected had a private room for work on intimate areas—which he appreciated, since he’d had to strip down to his boxers to bare the inside of his right thigh for the inking—but he was still trying to be discreet about what he said in front of the tattoo artist.
“Are you doing all right?” Kit asked Jonathan. He knew the other man had gotten tattoos before, but this was the first time
Kit had watched it.
“Doing fine,” Jonathan assured him. He could tell Kit was still a bit apprehensive, though he’d insisted he wanted to do this. “The skin has more give here than it does over bone, like when I had the first one done on the small of my back. It really doesn’t hurt—more like little pinpricks.” He hoped that would hold true for Kit as well, though everyone’s pain tolerance was different. “Nothing compared to some of the things you’ve been through,” he added with a wink toward Devon.
Devon chuckled at the color that bloomed in Kit’s cheeks. “Compared to the surgery on your spine, this will be nothing,” he added, though he was sure that wasn’t what Jonathan had been referring to.
Kit could feel the flush staining his cheeks as he thought about all the different positions he’d found himself in with his lovers over the months of filming. He certainly wouldn’t have believed he’d enjoy being spanked or having a crop taken to his backside, but Devon had made both of those things incredible experiences. His arse still tingled from the playful swats Devon had given him last night when he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
He’d been pushing and he knew it, but filming was ending in less than a week, and Jonathan would be returning to LA to see his son and Devon would be heading for Prague almost immediately to begin filming his next role. Kit had no idea what he’d do without them there all the time. He’d gotten a couple of offers, but he hadn’t accepted them, hoping to take one that would put him near either Jonathan or Devon. That might have worked if they weren’t going to be on opposite sides of the globe.
He reached for Devon’s hand when the impulse took him this time, the need for contact too great to deny. They had a matter of days left. Blythe and James Sinclair, the actor who had played Mordred, were already done. They’d had the send-off party the same night he and his lovers had decided to get tattoos. Addison would be leaving tomorrow, and everyone else this weekend. Even with the tattoos, Kit felt like something precious was slipping through his fingers. He bit his lip against asking for reassurance where the tattooist could hear him. It was this very fear that had led to their decision to get tattoos in the first place.
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