Large warm hands fall to my hips, and a body presses against my back, while another surrounds my front.
“You hear that, brother? She wants to sin,” Hart says. I can’t tell if he’s at my front or back.
“And we live to serve,” Malachi agrees. The hands on my hips slide down my legs before teasing the ribbon of my pants and tugging it open.
Anyone could find us in here. What are they doing? I open my mouth to voice my protest, but one of them covers it with their own, kissing away my protests. I relax in their arms, my body melting under their touch as my pants fall to the floor in a whisper of silk.
“Relax. No one can see you,” Hart murmurs in my ear.
My hearing intensifies, drawing in breaths of arousal and the soft slide of fabric. Clearly, others are finding their confidence under the cover of darkness. It’s forbidden to be in the same room as others enjoying carnal pleasures, but it makes my skin hum with excitement, and a swirling heat dampens my panties with need.
“Do you want to leave?” Malachi asks. “Say the word, and we will get you out of here.”
Do I? I should. But no, and I refuse to lie to myself or to them. “No,” I whisper.
“Thank you, Idols,” Hart mutters.
I think he is behind me, his calloused fingers dipping inside my top to play with my nipples. My breasts become heavy, aching, and an insistent throb hums in my clit. That tiny little piece of flesh that creates a maelstrom of embers. That’s where I need one of them to touch. Malachi’s mouth covers my nipple, and he sucks and nips and bites my entire breast, before doing the same with the other one. Hart drags his teeth and tongue down my neck, enjoying the way my pulse bounces against his lips.
Hart walks me backward, keeping my body in line with his as Malachi growls at being denied my body. Why are we denying him?
“I’m the only one who hasn’t tasted her,” he snarls low. My stomach clenches. Yes, let him taste. It’s only fair.
“I’m aware. There’s a chair back here,” Hart says. “One made for this.”
A chair made for this? How? A chair is surely a chair.
Malachi chuckles, the rumble pressing along my flesh. Hart bends, and I freeze. “Relax, Calamity. I’m right here with you.”
That’s true. Whatever this chair is, he’s not leaving me. I allow my body to relax. “Good girl,” he rumbles as he takes a seat, keeping a tight hold of my hips to position my ass against his growing erection. I squirm to get comfortable, making him growl. “Stop that, or I will do more than hold you still while my brother feasts on you. I’d prefer to see your eyes when I slide my cock inside you, but I only have so much patience.”
Malachi snorts as I freeze. I’m not stupid—this tension between us will snap at some point. But I too would rather see what is happening.
Hart’s hand wraps around my chin, and he pulls my head to the side to glide his lips over mine. Malachi uses my distraction to strip me bare below.
He grabs one of my knees and lifts it up to my chest and out. Hart’s free hand wraps under my thigh, helping his brother to position my leg. Something wraps around my knee and pins it in place.
I tear my mouth free. “What are you doing?”
Malachi nips my thigh, and I jerk in the restraint, trying to move from the bite of pain, but I can’t go anywhere. “Keeping you in place,” Malachi says before repeating the same with my other leg, ensuring I am wide and vulnerable.
“I wish I could see her,” Hart grumbles.
“Me too. We need to get one of these chairs,” Malachi agrees.
My muscles burn with how wide my thighs are, but I grit my teeth to avoid crying out. I want nothing to stop the promise of what Malachi is about to do.
A low feminine moan echoes in the air, making heat flash down my spine. Hart huffs a laugh in my ear. “You have a little voyeurism in you, Calamity?”
Do I? Maybe.
Malachi kisses the insides of my thighs. “Open her up for me, brother,” Malachi growls. “I want my tongue inside of her as deep as I can.”
Oh Blazes. I think I’m already on the edge, and he hasn’t even touched me there yet.
Hart’s hands skim down my ribs, over my stomach, and between my spread thighs. His fingers skim through the wetness gathered at my opening. “Fuck. Is this all for us? We haven’t touched you yet.”
Except Malachi has… all night, in fact. Sometimes, small caresses build and build until your body practically hums with need and want.
