“Oh my god,” I gasp. “What you did at the end—what was that?”
“Something I thought I would try,” he replies.
“You didn’t think to do that last time we were together?”
He shrugs, a naughty smirk playing over his lips. “You don’t expect me to reveal all my secrets at once, do you? I have to save a few surprises.”
“Yes, but when you have a vibrating tongue—”
“Wait, what?” Raoul’s tone is threaded with astonished envy.
“Would you like a turn, poet?” asks the Angel, his eyes hooded and lustful.
“Yes,” says Raoul. “But if we’re going to do this, I need to get something from my truck first.”
He releases me and races out of the motel room. I sway on my feet, my shorts still around my ankles.
The Angel reaches past me and yanks back the covers of the bed, and I topple gratefully backward onto the sheets. They’re cheap but much cleaner than the rest of the room, and I lie limply on them while the Angel removes my shoes and the rest of my clothes with methodical tenderness.
Raoul knocks at the door, and when the Angel lets him in, Raoul holds up a bottle of lube.
I hook an eyebrow at him. “You keep lube in your truck?”
Raoul flushes. “I picked some up the other day. You know…just in case.” His gaze flicks to the Angel, who doesn’t smile but gives Raoul the filthiest bedroom eyes I’ve ever witnessed. At first, I think Raoul might collapse under the dark intensity of that stare, butalthough his blush deepens, he manages to stay upright.
“Do you know what ‘Raoul’ means, little poet?” inquires the Angel, circling Raoul like a panther sizing up its prey.
“Wolf counsel,” whispers Raoul.
“Very good. And do you vow, poet, to be our counsel? Our wolf, loyal to us alone?”
I spot a tremor of ingrained fear in Raoul’s eyes—the soul scars of a lifetime. But there’s courage in his gaze, too, and his voice is steady as he tells the Angel, “I do.”
“You will seal that vow with us tonight,” murmurs the Angel, sliding both hands along Raoul’s waist beneath his open shirt. “You will come inside her while I come inside you.”
Raoul shivers, his cheeks scarlet. “Yes.”
“Good boy.” With his hand in the auburn waves, the Angel pulls Raoul’s head back for a long, passionate kiss.
My body is on fire, every inch of my skin glowing with violent need for them both. I watch the Angel disrobe Raoul, and then Raoul climbs onto the bed with me while the Angel discards his own clothing. Before he joins us, he takes his phone from his pants and opens a playlist of romantic instrumental music.
The unfurling melody changes the entire mood of the room, turns it into a place of sweet intimacy, adds a deeper layer of meaning and beauty to what we’re doing. I’ve always loved how music can alter reality like that.
The Angel adjusts the volume, then turns to me and Raoul. He licks his lips and hesitates a moment before saying, “You can call me Erik. If you like.”
He looks strangely, adorably nervous. Not at all like a monstrous, mythical figure with a capacity for the most diabolical of plans but a lonely soul, still unsure, still not convinced that he willever be accepted completely or cherished entirely.
He doesn’t yet believe that we love him.
“Erik,” I repeat softly. “Come here.”
He approaches, his body rigid. We pull him onto the creaking motel bed with us, into the symphony of our kisses and our naked bodies.
We writhe and shift and breathe, finding our places, our rhythm. I’m on my back, and Raoul’s lovely cock has slipped inside my soaked pussy. Erik teases Raoul’s asshole with his vibrating tongue for a few moments while Raoul pants heavily against me and I hold him tight, delighting in the expression of tortured bliss on his pretty face.
Then Erik applies the lube and eases himself inside Raoul, a little at a time, while I kiss Raoul’s mouth and murmur encouraging words to him.
We move with the swell of the music, pleasure rippling through our joined bodies. There’s a blissful anguish in our blended melody, in Raoul’s faint moans and my whimpering pleas and Erik’s shattered groans.
