My hands went to Malik's head, urging him closer, demanding even more as he savagely consumed me. I caught glimpses of his shaft—hard, thick, and glistening at the tip—bobbing between his legs, and licked my lips. But Malik couldn't wait any longer and I was denied the pleasure of tasting him. Instead, he surged up and penetrated me with a swift thrust—his cock sliding into me like a sword into its sheath. His wide hands gripped my thighs, pushing them out to open me further, and he immediately set a rapid pace.
I expected Kyrian to enter me from behind but he stayed as he was and just moved slowly between my cheeks. The difference between those touches—the slide of velvet between my lower cheeks with the soft slap of tightening sacs, and the feral stretching of my sex—heightened every sensation and I found myself grinding back against Kyrian and rolling up to meet Malik. I angled my head to kiss my angel and he lowered one of his hands from my breast to the apex of my sex. Completely in tune with both Mal and me, Kyrian worked me into orgasm with rapid flicks of his finger just as Malik gave a roaring cry and poured into me. The Fusion rose—shivering and bright—to magnify our climax, sending both Malik and me into riotous rapture. I pulled away from Kyrian's kiss to shriek like a banshee while my body shook wildly.
As Malik rolled away to lie beside us in a satiated stupor, Kyrian reached down and angled himself into my sex. He started languorously pumping, drawing out as far as he could before pushing slowly back in. I was still moaning through my last orgasm and his entrance extended its downward roll until it curved back upward toward another peak. With fresh arousal compelling me, I sat up, got onto my knees, and leaned forward onto my hands to start driving myself down on Kyrian wildly. Both of the men made groans of delight and I heard the distinctive sound of Mal stroking himself—his cock still wet from my body. Kyrian's hands went to my ass to massage and spread me. I hung my head to watch us come together as he was doing. The sight of that slick shaft sliding deep, made me shiver violently and tighten around him.
“Oh, Amara, that is so... amazing,” Kyrian panted as his finger went to my puckered hole and pressed firmly. He barely inserted the tip but my body sucked him in deeper and he began a thrusting to match mine.
“I think I'd like to see the front view.” Malik slid off the bed and came around to the foot.
I lifted my head to watch him watch me—his powerful hand pumping his cock and his amethyst eyes flashing with lust. His stomach clenched and his biceps bulged but I couldn't tear my eyes away from his shaft. Blushing with blood and weeping with need—as thick and powerful as the man himself. I licked my lips, focusing on the slit in that plum tip, imagining how that pearly fluid would taste. Malik's mark tightened as if he'd clenched the back of my neck within his hand.
“Oh, don't tease me like that,” Malik drawled.
“Who said I was teasing?” I shot back.
“I believe the phrase is 'put your money where your mouth is.'” Kyrian moved out from beneath me and pushed me toward the end of the bed. “But in this case, it's 'put your mouth where your mouth is.' Or where his dick is.”
Kyrian shoved back into me, pushing me even closer to Malik. Mal growled and stepped forward, accepting the invitation. I opened my mouth eagerly and he slid that hard, slick length over my tongue—salt and man and sex making my taste buds sing. His hands went to the sides of my face as my lips closed tightly around his girth. Mal groaned and pumped forward, nearly choking me. Another thrust from Kyrian sent me further onto Malik and I did choke. I had to lift a hand to circle Malik's base so he wouldn't suffocate me.
And that excited me more.
Instead of taking up Kyrian's rhythm and allowing me to be pushed back and forth over their surging shafts, Malik waited until Kyrian gave another shove and slammed himself into me at the same time. The men became leverage for each other, shoving deep into my sex and my mouth. Speared from both ends, my lovers' cocks straining for each other through me, I experienced a bliss that tightened every muscle I had. Then men groaned along with me.
“Soon, Mvarra,” Malik panted and his mark started to pulse in time with his thrusts.
I made an affirming, greedy grunt.
Kyrian kept pumping, his hands gripping my hips and his breath coming faster. Then Malik gave a broken, guttural shout and one last thrust. He came in searing streams in my mouth and I drank him down as Kyrian watched. Mal's hand gently pushed back my hair as he drew away. I sucked at the loose weight of him as he slipped free, still wanting more. His thumb trailed over my lips and he smiled.
“You have the most beautiful mouth in all of the galaxies,” Malik murmured as he crumpled onto the floor and leaned against the bed.
Kyrian sped up. I looked over my shoulder at him and watched his body move. All that warrior grace. All that angelic beauty. The ridges of his belly curving, his biceps bulging, and the sinews of his forearms tightening into cords. He met my stare and smiled but it was more predatory than pleased. His thrusting became even more savage, the slaps of skin on skin echoing in my ears. Kyrian bent forward, his hands sliding to my waist, and finally gave a deep triumphant shout. His release filled me, leaving a piece of him behind as he withdrew and the knowledge that his essence was still inside me made me shiver.
I smiled at him as he slid out of me but he frowned.
“What is it?” I asked as I rolled up onto my butt.
“You didn't come.”
“I came a lot before you did.” I grinned again. “I'm good.”
“Not good enough,” Kyrian declared as he shoved me onto my back.
The angel dove between my thighs and set his mouth to the task of making me scream yet again. I slid my hand into his silky, bright hair, spread my legs wider, and sighed in bliss.
“If you insist,” I purred.
Chapter Twenty-Three
In the morning, Cyprian showed up with coffee and croissants. He looked like a movie star in his designer jeans, a black cotton dress shirt, boots, and dark sunglasses. His cuffs were rolled up over his corded forearms, his snowy blond hair was back in a loose ponytail to showcase his stunning face, and his lush lips curved up into a smile when he saw me. He handed breakfast off to Kyrian, pulled off his shades, and pulled me into his arms. After several minutes of kissing—kissing that seemed to involve our entire bodies, Cyprian leaned his head back and grinned at me, his cat-green eyes full of pleasure.
“I have missed you terribly, Se Esaria.”
“I've missed you too, Se Ruar.”
Ruar is Cyprian's title in our fusion. He's like the alpha lover, although I wouldn't say he was the most alpha of my men. Still, as the only Faulin among us and the first man to form the fusion with me, the title was his. Adding “se” to it made it possessive, and Cyprian loved it when I got possessive.
As the leader of his group of Faulin, Cyprian had been given the title of Master. Not only was it a way for his people to show him respect, but it was also a nod to the Faulins' sexual natures, a figurative middle finger flashed at the race that had once enslaved them, and an indication of his skill in sexual domination. Cyprian had dominated all of his lovers before I had come around. After being a slave for so long, the thought of kneeling to anyone just didn't do it for him.
