My throat went dry. Blood pumped to my shaft, and anticipation rose so thick I almost tasted it. I untied the belt of my dressing gown and let it slide from my shoulders. The heavy material fell to the carpet in a whisper of silk.
Tavish took his time running his eyes down my body, his dark gaze taking in my chest and stomach before settling on my straining shaft. I’d never been shy about nudity. My beast wore nothing but scales, and I slipped between forms so often that clothes were usually an afterthought.
But something about standing nude before my mates—both of them clothed—made me aware of every inch of exposed skin.My thighs. My sack. The cleft of my ass. Even my bare soles pressed into the carpet.
Tavish tilted his head, looking me over like he appraised a horse he might like to buy. “Good,” he murmured, then turned to Portia. “Do you want to watch, lass?”
She nodded, her lips parting. That blue bow at her throat trembled. “Yes. I want to see everything.”
“Everything?” Tavish asked with a wicked grin.
“Everything,” she said, her voice more breath than sound.
Tavish looked at me. “You heard her. Turn around.”
Swallowing, I slowly obeyed.
Portia’s breath hitched behind me. Tavish’s stare prickled down my back. Arousal and humiliation flared under my skin like someone striking flint against steel. I squeezed my hands into fists.
Tavish leaned close, his breath caressing my neck. “You do a fine job pretending. But we both know you’re a whore for this, don’t we?”
My cock jerked, and I bit back a moan.
“Exactly,” Tavish said, humor thick in his voice. He touched my shoulder, then slid his palm down to the small of my back. “Put your hands on the table and lean forward.”
Once again, I obeyed, my pulse quickening as I braced my palms on the wooden surface. He pressed gently, guiding me down until my chest was flat on the table. I turned my head and rested my cheek against the wood. The crystal decanter sat right beside me, its facets catching the sunlight that leaked through the curtains. The glass sparkled, and the teardrop finial seemed to glow.
The table was warm against my skin, but my nipples pebbled anyway. My cock hung heavy between my legs, twitching with each shallow breath I drew. Behind me, sheets rustled, and I imagined Portia leaning forward to get a better view.
“Spread your legs, sweet Albie,” Tavish said in his dark rumble.
I widened my stance, and the stack of plates clinked softly.
“Wider.”
“Fuck,” I breathed, planting my feet wide. My cheeks parted, and my hole puckered against the cool air. More blood pounded to my shaft. I curled my fists on the table, fighting the urge to rock my hips in a hunt for friction that wasn’t there.
Tavish drew a finger down my cleft. With exquisite gentleness, he traced my sensitive rim. Portia’s small, needy sound drifted from the bed, and I gasped, my hole gasping with me. My poor, aching dick twitched toward my stomach like a dog eager for its master’s attention.
But Tavish didn’t give it any. He stayed right where he was, stroking and rubbing.
“More,” I whimpered, clenching against his touch. The knowledge that Portia watched everything multiplied the lust and humiliation in my veins.
Tavish leaned over me, and the silk of his dressing gown covered me from shoulder to thigh. “I’ll give you more, darling.” He closed his teeth around the curve of my ear. “But I can’t hurry this. I want to be absolutely wicked with your hole, so I need to open it first.”
My breath caught, and I squeezed my eyes shut against the promise in his words.
“Yes,” I croaked, unable to manage anything more eloquent.
Tavish straightened, taking his body heat with him. Glass clinked, and I opened my eyes to see him pull the stopper from the decanter with a softpop. The scent of rich, smoky whiskey wafted through the air. A drop dangled from the stopper, the bead of liquid catching the sun.
Tavish held the finial to my lips. A moan escaped me as I let him push it into my mouth. The glass was warm from his hand,and the bulb stretched my lips as he gently rotated it back and forth.
Behind us, Portia’s breathing quickened. Maybe she’d crawled to the bottom of the bed, that naughty bow straining over her breasts. I pictured it, my mind showing me images of her pressing an eager hand between her thighs.
I sucked at the finial, and I knew my dick dripped onto the carpet.
“Good lad,” Tavish rasped, pulling the finial free. “Now let’s put it to better use.”
