“Yes.” Her teeth bite down on her bottom lip.
“You want to let Hunter fuck these pretty tits?” He looks up at me, the tattoo lifting with his eyebrow. “I think that would make him pretty happy.”
Jesus Fucking Christ, it would.
Her breath hitches–eager. She nods once, small and quick.
I shove my pants down and kick them off, cock bobbing against my abdomen. It’s thick and aching, already slick at the tip from watching Damon change those rings. I step closer, knees bracketing her thighs on the edge of the chaise. Damon’s palms press her breasts together, creating a perfect, soft channel. The new piercings glint right at the center, framing the valley between them.
I guide myself forward. The head of my cock slides between her tits–hot, silky skin closing around me. She’s still damp from the faint sheen of arousal, and the friction is immediate and electric. I groan low in my throat as the tip slides through and kisses the edge of the scar on her chest. DK pushes her breasts tighter around me with his big hands. The pressure is perfect–soft but firm, the garnet rings brushing the underside of my shaft with every slow thrust. I start moving–shallow at first, savoring the way her skin yields. “Fuck,” I mutter, voice rough. “Look at you.”
Her head tips back against DK’s shoulder, exposing the long lineof her throat. He kisses the side of her neck, teeth grazing, while his thumbs circle her nipples, making teasing tugs on the new hoops that elicit a gasp every time. Each tug rocks her forward, sliding her tits along my length in perfect rhythm.
I pick up speed. Longer strokes now, hips rolling, the head of my cock gliding over the scar and bumping the underside of her chin on every upstroke. She opens her mouth on instinct, tongue flicking out to taste me when I get close enough. The wet heat of it sends a jolt straight to my balls.
DK’s voice is dark velvet in her ear. “You like that, Doll Baby? Letting Hunter use your tits while I hold them for him?”
“I can’t,” she whimpers, high and needy. “I can’t...”
Hold on—is what she means, because we’re not even touching her pussy and she’s that fucking aroused. Her hands come up, covering his where they cradle her breasts, pressing them even tighter around me. The sight of her like this–tiara crooked now, lips swollen, breasts pushed together and glistening with streaks of precum, garnets flashing with every thrust–is too much. The longest night, the fire, the way she trusts us completely–it all coils low and tight in my gut.
“Hold on,” DK tells her. “Just a little bit longer. Let Hunter come, and then it’ll be your turn.”
She nods, nose scrunched up in discomfort, and I grit out, “Where do you want it, Nettie?”
Her eyes lock on mine–dark, dilated, desperate. “On me,” she breathes. “Please.”
DK squeezes harder, thumbs flicking the hoops one last time. I thrust forward–once, twice–and there’s no holding back.
“Fuck,” I groan.
Hot pulses stripe her skin, dripping over the curves of her breasts, catching on the garnet rings, sliding down the valley between them. She moans like it’s her own release, head falling back, body trembling between us.
I brace one hand on the chaise, breathing hard, watching the way my cum gleams against her flushed skin in the firelight.
DK presses a soft kiss to her temple. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.
She smiles and reaches up to touch my jaw, thumb brushing the corner of my mouth. While I catch my breath, I hear movement from behind me, and Timothy moves next to us.
I tense, waiting for the reaction. I mean, I just fucking came all over his wife’s tits. She’s dripping with it, and he’d have every right to kick me out–or worse, kill me. Not one person in this fucking city would fight him over it.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asks, eyes wide, breath hitching when he reaches for the tiara, but all he does is straighten it. Then he bends, kissing her, mouth opening and tongue sliding against hers. Timothy breaks the kiss and drags his mouth down her throat. His thumb slides into the sticky cum, and then he glides it down, rubbing it over her nipples, getting them slippery.
Christ, now I’m hard again.
“No, you’re perfectly wicked,” he murmurs against her pulse. “Your job is to provide for your Barons and your King, and seeing you drenched in Hunter’s seed doesn’t make me jealous. It makes me hungry.” She releases the breath we’ve all been holding, and he adds, “Let’s get you out of this dress.”
36
Timothy
I raise an eyebrow at DK,and he and Hunter both jump into action, moving together like they’ve done this a hundred times. I’m unsure how often they fuck, but DK’s familiarity with Arianette’s body is undeniable. He unlaces the corset from behind and Hunter tugs the skirt up and over her hips. I peel the fabric away until she’s standing naked between us, except for the black lace panties clinging to her thighs, soaked through in the crotch. Her skin glows in the firelight from Hunter’s cum. He picks up his shirt from off the floor and wipes her down.
DK hooks his fingers in the lace and drags her panties down her legs–slowly, savoring the way she trembles. When they hit the floor, I watch him press a kiss to the inside of her thigh, then higher, until his mouth is on her. His tongue flattens against her clit, then sucks gently on the shiny piercing. She cries out, hands fisting his hair.
The only mistruth in my declaration about the lack of jealousywhen it comes to my Barons and the Baroness is that I want to be the one who makes her tremble like that with my tongue and cock. But the Barons have always existed like this, sharing the woman in the center of our world. They’re a gift to be explored together. For many years, I’ve sat on the sidelines, but no more.
I remove my sweater and unbutton my pants. DK steps aside, wiping his mouth as I pull my cock out, thick and heavy. I stroke myself once, eyes never leaving her face. “Sit back down, Daughter.”
