by Ophelia Bell
“Oh, my god. How much longer is it going to take?” she asked, reaching out to brush her fingers down the wounds. His skin felt fever-hot to the touch, and she almost jerked back as though burned, but the soft sensation under her fingers felt good.
Her heart somersaulted when she met his gaze again and saw the look of subtle desperation there.
“Less time if you’re as good a cook as Nessa thinks you are. It depends on Ig here, too, though …”
“Nessa mentioned something about that … getting you both … in sync, is it? Doing that depends a lot on your diets. That’s why I wanted to make sure you didn’t miss anything. Either of you.”
“Wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” Ignazio said. “But I think I’ve had enough. How ‘bout you, Bry? Time to share?”
Bryer’s lips parted in a sultry smile. “Your turn,” he said, holding a full spoon out to her.
“Oh! No, I couldn’t … I mean, you need it …”
“We’ve both had enough, sweet thing,” Bryer said. “Or do you not like to eat your own cooking?”
She nearly choked on a giddy laugh. “Have you seen me?” she said, gesturing down her full figure. “I’m the first person to vouch for how fantastic my cooking is. Never trust a skinny chef.”
“You’re perfect,” Bryer said. He drew a little spiral in the air with the spoon, bringing it closer to her lips. “Don’t make me do dragon noises to get you to open your mouth.”
“Okay, you win!” She laughed and opened up.
He popped the spoon in and she closed her mouth, taking the sensuous chocolate mousse onto her tongue and savoring it as he pulled the spoon free. The chocolate was just bitter enough and just sweet enough, and the extra kick of the pepper hit the back of her throat when she swallowed, leaving her tongue tingling and her skin flushed. She moaned in pleasure at the perfect marriage of flavors. It had never tasted that good. Not even when she’d sampled it earlier before preparing to serve it.
She opened her eyes to two of the hungriest expressions she’d ever seen. “What is it?” she asked, barely able to find her voice.
“I need to see that again,” Ignazio said and served her another bite with his own spoon.
The flavors exploded on her tongue, this time influenced by the scents that surrounded her. It wasn’t just Ignazio now—Bryer’s crisp, cool scent filled her senses as well. The two aromas melded perfectly and accented the flavor as it coated her tongue. It was like having an orgasm with her mouth.
They took turns, each bite more delicious than the last, and she stopped wondering whether their presence was what made it so good. She’d probably died and gone to heaven. How else could she explain this?
Ignazio scooped up another bite for her and aimed the overloaded spoon a little too eagerly. As though in slow-motion, she saw the excess hanging over the lip of the spoon as he brought it closer to her mouth. The hanging drop of mousse lost its fight with gravity a split-second before the spoon made it past her lips, the cool, wet chocolate landing with a tiny splat on the top of her breast.
“Shit, sorry about that,” Ignazio said.
“Oh, no worries. At least you didn’t get any on my shirt …” She lifted a finger and was about to wipe the chocolate from her skin when Bryer’s hand shot out.
“Let me,” he said.
She blinked at him, startled. “Oh … okay?”
Instead of picking up a napkin to clean her up, he leaned in and lowered his head, his blue eyes flashing with want. He opened his mouth and pressed his lips to the top of her breast, over the offending bit of dessert. The heat of his tongue swirled over her skin, and she gasped at the sudden rush of sensation that shot straight to her core.
“Better,” he said when he pulled back, though his eyes stayed fixed on her chest.
“You missed a spot,” Ignazio said, and before Pomona could disagree, he’d scooped up another dollop from his dish and dumped it right down her cleavage.
Pomona gasped.
“Hmm, can’t have that.” Bryer bent once more, tracing his tongue along the tops of her breasts and dipping down into the valley between them. He let out a low growl of pleasure that made her pussy heat, then looked at her. “Tastes even better served like this,” he said. “But I don’t think I got it all … do you mind?”
Too surprised and too completely aroused to move, Pomona stared breathlessly down at his fingertips where they toyed with the top button of her blouse. Her wet skin tingled from where he’d licked her, and the bit of chocolate that had fallen lower was like a promise of what pleasure he could give her if she gave in. Her nipples pricked inside her bra, already hard from the slight pressure his tug on that button provided.
“N-no … go right ahead.”
Somewhere in the back of her mind was a faint glimmer of a warning that she should probably extract herself from the situation before it got out of hand. That voice nearly gained a foothold, but then Ignazio’s spoon dipped to her mouth again and she instinctively took the offered bite, swallowing the chocolate mousse with a startled look.
“I want to know how it tastes on your tongue,” he said.
Her eyes widened, but she had no time to process the implications of that statement before his mouth was on hers. She leaned back with a moan, completely at his mercy when his tongue plunged between her lips. God, he tasted even better than he smelled. His hands went to her cheeks and one slid up to her hair, tugging at the clip that secured it at the back of her head.
She was lost to the feel of him when her hair came down and his fingers carded through it, but the way Ignazio filled her senses was nothing compared to the way her body came alive when the buttons of her blouse came undone and Bryer pressed his mouth between her breasts again.
As his tongue swiped up between them, he hooked his fingers along the scalloped lace edge of her bra, sliding them back and forth until they grazed her nipples. She arched her back, pushing into his touch, savoring his low growl of approval. With a tug, he pulled both cups down, allowing her heavy breasts to spill free.
Ignazio broke their kiss then and sat back, hungrily taking her in. He stood and tugged his shirt off over his head, then tossed it aside.
Pomona’s gaze dropped to the huge bulge in the front of his pants. God, was he going to strip and fuck her? Were they both going to? She looked down at Bryer, curious after the information she’d read in Nessa’s notes, but couldn’t get a good view of his crotch. She would love to see him naked again, though. Both of them. Warm wetness flooded her pussy at the very thought of even one of them buried inside her.
Ignazio cupped her chin and tilted her head back, but her eyes took a second to tear away from the clear outline of his glorious erection.
“You’d like my cock, wouldn’t you, hot stuff? Not tonight, though … I have a promise to keep. But you did put my animal’s favorite spice in that dish. You know nightshades are an aphrodisiac for dragons? The spicier the food, the hotter it makes us. We just want to make sure we return the favor.”
She shook her head, her mind growing fuzzy from the way Bryer’s thumbs kept teasing back and forth across her nipples. Ignazio reached for his dessert dish, leaving the spoon behind. He dipped two fingers into the remaining mousse, scooping up a large dollop. Bryer sat back, still cupping her breasts and caressing the undersides with tortuous strokes.
Her awareness became a pinpoint of focus on Ignazio’s hand as he bent down and touched his chocolate-coated fingers to one nipple, swirling the mousse around and around. Then he repeated the process with her other breast, his eyes blazing the entire time.
Pomona let out a little mewl of pleasure, anticipating what she hoped would come next, but somehow she was in no way prepared when both men bent before her, each taking a nipple in their mouths.
“Ohhh, fuck,” she moaned, grasping for purchase on something—anything to keep her from c
ompletely flying apart. She found nothing but hot, hard bodies, and dug her nails into their flesh. She scraped her fingertips up over their shoulders and into the hair of both men, their silky strands a sensuous delight.
She closed her eyes and rocked back in her chair, her hips bumping against an arm or a hand—she couldn’t be sure, but she didn’t care.
Abstractly she was aware of fabric tearing in a clean, swift zipping sound. Air hit her thighs, and then strong hands gripped her naked flesh, spreading her legs wide.
Both men leaned back from her, and her eyes fluttered as she took in Ignazio’s wet lips and the bit of chocolate at the corner of his mouth. Bryer glided his hands up her thighs, pushing them even wider. His thumbs teased along the edges of her panties on either side of her pussy and she gasped at the slick sensation.
“You are so fucking wet for us, aren’t you?” Ignazio asked. “You smell even more delicious now. Can we have a taste of you, sweet Pomona?”
“Yes, please,” she said, giving him a slight nod and hoping she didn’t sound too desperate for just about everything they wanted to give her.
“Set the table, brother,” Ignazio said.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Bryer answered. With a sweep of his arm, the dishes went flying. Then he turned back and gripped Pomona by the hips, easily lifting her as though she weighed nothing at all.
Pomona yelped at the sudden shift and the very welcome press of Bryer’s chest against her body. She gripped his shoulders to hang on until she felt the cool surface of the table beneath her ass.
Before releasing her, Bryer dipped his head and captured her lips in a sensuous, hungry, and too-brief kiss. Then he bent to her breast again, his tongue darting out to her nipple once more on his way south.
She fell back onto her elbows, enthralled by the rippling mountains of muscle that seemed intent on bowing in front of her. Both men pushed their chairs out of the way and got to their knees. Ignazio pressed his lips to her knee and slid one hand up her thigh. As his hand roamed higher, a dark red, shining talon erupted from the tip of his index finger and grazed her skin. The fine hairs on her arms and nape stood on end when the razor-sharp protrusion caressed up over her hip and slid beneath the waistband of her panties.
With a swift swipe, he cut right through the fabric, then did the same with the other side. She saw the shredded fabric of her skirt then, and realized he must have done the same thing to it.
“Thank you,” Bryer said, peeling the sodden fabric away from her flesh. He pulled the ruined garment out from under her and dropped it to the side, then refocused his attention to her core, his mouth slightly open as though he were about to take a bite of her. She quivered from need and let out a little plea that made him glance up at her with a raised eyebrow.
“You want to serve yourself up right? Spread your thighs wider and show us all of you, baby.” He hooked a hand beneath her knee and pushed her leg up higher. At the same time, Ignazio gripped her other leg and pushed until both of them had her knees spread and pressed to her chest. She let herself fall back onto the table, her pussy hot and aching for a touch, flooded with need in spite of only having their gazes fixed on her.
She was about to beg again when the first touch made her jump. Hot fingers spread her open, stroking down on either side of her opening, then back up to lightly squeeze at her throbbing clit.
“Yes … please, more!” she begged, staring down her body at the pair of them. Bryer was the one touching her so deliberately while Ignazio held her legs spread for his friend. Bryer’s dark, blue-black hair caught the light as he bent lower, inhaled deeply, and with an almost reverent look, pressed his mouth to her aching pussy.
“Ahh!” she cried when his tongue found her clit and worked it with rapid little flicks. He devoured her like she was the most delicious treat, teasing his tongue between her folds, around and around her opening, then back to her clit, tasting every part of her.
He leaned back with wild eyes and took over holding her legs. Then Ignazio bent between her thighs, teasing his tongue in a slow lick right through the center of her channel. He moved more slowly, but managed to drive her to the brink all the same.
She threw her head back and arched up, writhing her hips against his mouth, needing more. Grabbing at her knees, she clutched them, holding herself wide.
“Please, let me come. Please!”
Ignazio chuckled. “You’re as hungry as we are, aren’t you? I’d like to know how you like it, first.”
He drifted his fingertips down along her slick flesh and slowly pushed two fingers into her opening. As he did, Bryer bent to take her clit between his lips and suck gently.
“Yes … like that,” she groaned as Ignazio pumped his fingers in and out of her. “More.”
He slipped out and teased lower, swirling his wet fingertips around and around her tight rear opening. A jolt of unexpected pleasure shot through her and she gasped, her hips rocking up against Bryer’s teasing tongue.
“You like this pretty ass played with, do you? How much, I wonder?”
Without a word, the pair moved. Bryer rose to rest one knee on the chair and brace himself on one arm, then dipped his head back to continue his glorious licking and sucking of her pussy. Ignazio moved lower, pressed his mouth to her pussy just below Bryer’s, and pushed his tongue into her tight, virgin ass.
The sensations sent her into a spin, pleasure exploding through her body in a sudden flood, and she screamed. She lost her grip on her thighs, but strong hands caught them and kept her spread wide as her orgasm rocked her.
Their tongues moved, switched places. Fingers plunged into openings, and she felt herself twice filled, front and back. A mouth found one of her nipples and sucked as they brought her higher than before, up to another writhing, screaming peak.
And they didn’t stop. Their hands and mouths seemed to seek out every sensitive place on her body, returning repeatedly with their tongues between her thighs and lapping up every drop of her creamy juices each time she came.
Finally, they slowed, and she managed to catch her breath. Self-awareness was too slow to return, though. She was still a bundle of nerve endings high on pleasure. She opened her tear-damp eyes and lifted her head, saw Ignazio propped between her thighs with her bare feet on his shoulders, and Bryer’s glistening face at her breast, his lips barely grazing her nipple.
“We can go all night,” Bryer said. “Arena matches are only an hour long, but this is a lot more fun and less strenuous.”
Pomona took a deep breath and sanity rushed in like a cold downpour. She struggled to sit, was grateful for Bryer’s helpful grip at her elbow, but pulled away as she stood on shaky legs.
Holy shit, what the hell had she just done?
“No … no. I’ve, ah … got to go. Left something in the oven, I think. Sorry.”
She grabbed her shoes and ran, holding her shirt together as she fled down the stairs. She paused at the bottom to get her bearings in this new place, saw the kitchen doors, and sprinted for them. Through glass doors at the back of the kitchen, she saw the welcome lights that lined the garden paths outside and her own bungalow beyond.
Once inside, she collapsed in a heap on the comfortable sofa and buried her face in a pillow.
What the fuck got into you, Pomona?
Everything but their dicks, apparently.
Groaning, she rolled over, trying to banish that hungry thought of what hadn’t happened amid all the naughty things that had.
Chapter Twelve
Bryer scrubbed a hand over his face and stared at the door Pomona had just run through. His mouth watered for another taste of her, but she was gone.
“We probably shouldn’t have done that,” Ignazio said. “But you can’t deny we were in the zone.”
His friend’s challenging tone made Bryer look at him. He sighed. “Go ahead and say it. Say, ‘I told you s
o’—you know you want to.”
Ignazio chuckled. “You know I was right, but you were right, too.” He brandished a single red talon that had manifested from the tip of his index finger. “We’re on our game when we’re in sync. My dragon was right there at the surface, ready to perform.”
“Thanks for not escalating it.”
“You mean for keeping it in my pants? That was definitely an exercise in willpower, but I think we’re better off for it. Getting her off was the best prize I could ask for. But holy hell, am I going to have blue balls tomorrow.”
Ignazio stood, gingerly cupping his erection through his pants. The act just served as a reminder of how unresponsive Bryer’s own cock had been for the entire event, despite his dragon roaring and ready.
Ignazio released himself and walked over to the detritus of their dessert that Bryer had shoved to the floor. He picked up one of the dishes and then glanced around, presumably for a spoon. When he didn’t find one he just dipped his fingers in, scooped up the remaining mousse, and licked it off.
Bryer’s tastebuds tingled sympathetically. The dessert had been delicious, but …
“Not as tasty as her snatch,” Ignazio rumbled, finishing Bryer’s thought. Yeah, they were definitely in sync when they were with a woman.
With a sigh, Ignazio bent and picked up the rest of the dishes, none of which had broken, thankfully.
“What next?” Bryer asked. “Should we … I don’t know, apologize to her?” That seemed appropriate, but it wasn’t what he wanted. He’d been so sure that if she simply focused her attention on his unresponsive cock that it might have been possible to wake it up. And if she did, then he could properly mate her and win the bet. But it was probably better that he couldn’t yet … his cock being out of commission might actually be a good thing if it kept him focused on the rest of his body’s recovery. Unsurprisingly, Ignazio seemed to be on the same wavelength still.