Arthur's hand found her hip. Killian's her waist. They pulled her between them, rearranging her until she settled against the cushions, Arthur on one side, Killian on the other.
Killian's hand cupped her jaw, turning her face toward him. His kiss was controlled, his lips firm against hers. Then Arthur'sfingers threaded through her hair from the other side, guiding her toward him.
Back and forth. Arthur's mouth claiming hers with that careful precision, then Killian turning her head, his tongue sweeping against hers in a way that made her gasp.
Killian's palm sliding down her side, tracing the curve of her waist. Arthur's fingers skimming along her thigh, not quite reaching where heat was building. Someone brushed the underside of her breast through her shirt, feather-light, making her arch into the touch.
But they didn't give her what she wanted. They kept her suspended in that space between comfort and need, kissing her breathless while their hands mapped everywhere except where she was starting to ache for contact.
Across the room, the six men had lined up the straws on the coffee table, shortest to longest.
Mateo had the shortest. He didn't hesitate. "Pussy."
Jax had the second shortest. His smile was slow and wicked. "Ass."
Jiro was third. "Mouth."
Caleb was fourth. He looked at what was left and grinned. "Left hand."
Dante had the second longest straw. He looked at the straw. Then the only position left: right hand. He cursed in Italian. "You take it. I want her to myself later anyway."
Liam took the straw, looking amused. "Right hand, then."
The five men: Mateo, Jiro, Caleb, Liam, Jax, started talking logistics. Positions. Order. Who would move where and when.
Dante turned back toward the couch.
He dropped to his knees at the edge of the massive cushions and started crawling toward her.
April watched his shoulders shift as he moved forward, hips swaying, prowling like a panther. His eyes never left hers.
Killian's hand flexed on her hip. Arthur's mouth curved where it rested against her temple, making a sound of male satisfaction.
When Dante reached her, his hands went to the waistband of her boxers. He pulled them down slowly, his knuckles dragging against her skin, and tossed them aside.
Then his hands slid up the inside of her thighs, spreading her wide.
Heat rose up her chest. After everything today, she was still capable of embarrassment at being exposed like this to everyone in the room.
Dante's thumbs pressed into the creases where her thighs met her body, holding her in place. "Princesspia," he murmured, breath warm against her inner thigh.
Arthur's hand found her breast, no longer teasing. His palm cupped the full weight of it through her shirt, thumb circling her nipple until it peaked hard against the fabric. Killian's fingers found her other breast, the pressure more deliberate, testing her response.
Dante pressed his mouth to her inner thigh, not kissing, only the pressure of his lips, then the scrape of his teeth.
He moved higher. His tongue traced a line up her thigh, teasing her intentionally. She made a small sound of frustration. Then his mouth was on her—one long, deliberate lick from hole to clit that made her hips jerk.
"That's cheating," Caleb called from across the room.
Dante didn't stop. His tongue circled her clit with precision, testing pressure and angle.
"If you wanted her, you should have kept your straw," Jax said, amused.
Dante lifted his head just enough to speak. "There was no straw designated for this position. Princesspia deserves to be properly worshipped first."
Then his mouth returned, and whatever response anyone had died in the air.
He adjusted when she twitched. Shifted pressure when her breath hitched. His fingers tightened on her thighs. The scrape of his teeth against sensitive skin. The low sound he made when she gasped.
