I watch Asher’s face, seeing his cheeks fill and hollow, as he goes up and down, torturously slow. Watching him fight was poetic, and this is, too. He draws at the king with the same vicious grace. His hand moves again, disappearing under Ky’s body, and the king makes a sound that I could only describe as raw. Something inside me clenches, reacting to that low growl, and I’m very aware of the heat between my legs, the tautness of my nipples against this shift.
After a moment, Asher pulls free, and the king is gasping, gazing at him now.
“Asher,” Ky whispers, and there’s a desperate, ragged note in his voice.
But Asher doesn’t look at him. His eyes are only on me. “Your turn. Don’t stop.”
“Wait,” I say, rising up. “What are you going to—”
Asher moves behind me and grabs hold of my hips, then presses himself right up against my buttocks again. I shiver, and his hands slide up my ribs, the fabric of my shift twisting under his fingers. “I’m going to show you how a man pleasures a woman.”
For a moment, I’m uncertain, trapped between them. I don’t know what he intends, and this is different from when we were in the pool and they were both kissing me. But my body is so primed, socharged, and I trust Asher. I take Ky into my mouth again, but I’m slower now, my focus split between the two of them. I expected Asher to tug at my shift, but he leaves it on, and at first, he simply runs his fingers along my buttocks slowly, his hands gentle, tracing the distance from my upper thigh to my lower back over and over again until the tension eases back out of my body.
Without warning, he spreads me a little, his fingers pulling me apart through the shift. The sensation lights me on fire. I feel so exposed, yet so covered at the same time.
He leans in close, and I feel the weight of his bare chest against my back, his legs against my legs. It makes my entire body shiver.
Then he reaches around to press a hand against my abdomen and says, “Spread your legs, lovely.”
I let out a breath and obey, but it’s Ky that gasps, and I forget that his cock was in my mouth, that my cheek is against his thigh, and he’s practically panting. I draw back just as Asher runs a hand up the length of my leg, from ankle to hip, bringing the shift with it. I shiver at the sudden feeling of the air, but he’s still so close against me that I don’t quite feel naked either. Then his finger simply, suddenly runs right along the seam between my legs, the lightest most delicate touch. No one has ever touched me there, and it gives me a jolt. I cry out.
The king puts a hand against my cheek. “Easy, beautiful.”
Then Asher does itagain, this time a little slower, his finger slipping between the folds. He rubs back and forth so lightly and I shudder, feeling my insides clench.
Then his hand moves, and he runs a thumb downward, slidingthrough the cleft of my buttocks. I shiver, and then he pauses to press gently against the tight hole there.
I flush red and shoot straight upright, but he catches me against him. “Asher.” My voice is half outrage, half plea.
Ky is staring at him over my shoulder. “What did you do?”
“Guess.” Asher kisses me on the neck. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” I whisper, and my cheeks burn hotter.
The king is watching us now, his eyes so dark. His cock is so hard, glistening a bit now from my attentions, another bead appearing at the tip. But I finally realize what he means each time he sayswe are not competing. I thought he meant him and Asher, that they were rivals for me. But they’re not rivals at all. He said it clearly.
She’s in love with you, Asher.
You love her back.
But I’ve seen his attraction to us both since the first day. I saw it in the gentle way he’d touch Asher, and the confident way he’d touch me.
He’s not competing because he’s beenwaiting.
Asher’s voice is so low in my ear. “Do you want to let the king have a turn?”
I’m wanton now, aching, so I nod. “Please,” I whisper.
Ky slides to his knees, then takes my breast into his mouth like he means to worship it. I feel his cock prodding my belly, and my legs part wider, almost of their own volition. He pulls at my shift without hesitation, baring my thigh. Asher was slow and sure, but Ky has a different kind of confidence. His hand slides between my legs, and it’s so different. Asher used one finger, so delicate and precise. The king’s whole hand presses against me in a way I’m hungry for. I find myself rubbing against him, and before I realize it, he slides two fingers into me.
It stings a little, which makes me gasp, but it’s only for a moment, and I crave it so deeply that I don’t care. I rock against him, longing to be fuller.
“Slow,” he says gently. He rubs at me slowly, never going farther than an inch, and it’s torture.
When Asher puts a finger against my back entrance again, I make a guttural sound and push back against him.
“Not yet,” he says, kissing my neck again, stroking me there, a careful dance of push and release that’s driving me crazy. “Not the first time, Jory.”
