A hiss wracks out of me as I writhe lengthwise on the throne, tormented by pleasure. Together, each from either end, Basten and Rian feast on me like a holiday buffet. Basten’s mouth does wicked things to my breasts, until I’m arching my back and crying out for mercy.
At the other end, Rian wraps his hands around my hips, holding me steady as he kisses the inside of my calf.
The fey shivers in my veins, waking up from its slumber. Silver light spills out of my fey lines, casting an otherworldly glow over both men’s faces as they devour my body.
Flashes of memory return to me.Acolytes bent over my body, worshipping me with their mouths. I’ve done this before…thousands of times before.
But it’s never been likethis.
I dig one hand in Basten’s hair, winding my fingers across his scalp to hold on securely, and thrust the other hand in Rian’s hair, feeling the movements of his talented mouth moving back and forth over my thigh, nipping and biting so wickedly.
I think I might burst from pleasure, pop like a corked champagne bottle.
“I…” I start, my voice turning into a growl. “I wantmore.”
Basten comes up for air, lips swollen and eyes aflame. He takes a moment to look me over, draped across the throne fromhead to toes, and the look in his eyes says everything I need to know.
A chasm between us?
No—not anymore. Like this, we know exactly who each other is.
He fists his hand in Rian’s collar, dragging Rian to his feet. Rian pants, his eyes glassy and unfocused from the thrill of it all.
“More, little violet?” Basten repeats. The half-grin is gone from his face as he rests his hand on his belt. He’s all business now, his cock straining at his pants, the pinprick focus of a hunter in his eyes, ready to claim his prize.
I sit up on the throne, suddenly breathless. “Please.” I’m not sure I trust my own voice not to break with need.
“Goddesses don’t beg,” he says, approaching slowly and taking my chin in his big palm. “I swore to serveyou.”
The fey beneath my skin throbs, surging hotter and faster. I whimper slightly, licking my lips again, eyes pinned to his jugular.
A fear suddenly seizes me. “Basten, if we take this too far?—”
He presses his thumb to my lips, sealing in my protests.
Slowly, he shakes his head. “Let me take care of you, goddess. You won’t hurt me. Not with Rian taking on half your need. Now be a good girl and sit in Rian’s lap.”
A flush of warmth spreads through my core, and I have to squeeze my thighs together to keep from shaking. Rian is more than happy to trade places with me on the throne, spreading his knees, bucking his hips in anticipation.
I start to sit on his lap, but Basten grabs me. “No—like this.”
He spins me around to straddle Rian’s hips.
I’m facing Rian, who leans back, hands on the armrests, not touching me in a way that’s somehow even more intimate than when he had his hands all over me.
From behind, Basten nuzzles his lips over my ear, biting down gently on the earlobe, and at the same time, fists Rian’s hair to crane his neck back.
He commands to me, “Drink from him.”
My breath rushes in and out. I stare, wide-eyed, at Rian’s exposed neck. The vein throbbing there, in time with my own demanding pulse.
My mouth pools with saliva, appetite roaring to life almost uncontrollably.
Drink drink drink.
“Rian?” I ask hoarsely.
He shifts his hips, rocking his erection against my hips. “Don’t ask permission. Fuckingdrink.”
