“What happened?” I ask.
“He started bleeding again,” she replies, a hint of concern in her voice. “I tried telling him he probably needs stitches, but he doesn’t listen.”
Walking over, I lean in and inspect the split skin above Archer’s left eye. It does look pretty deep, and I have a feeling Freya is right. I also know that Archer is stubborn as hell and doesn’t take advice easily.
“Such a pretty face,” she says, cradling his jaw. “Why would you want to ruin it?”
His hand winds around her waist, pulling her closer. “Let’s go back to what we were doing a few minutes ago. I miss the sound of your moans when Jules had his face up your dress.”
He tickles Freya’s side, and she squeals while trying to open a bandage. “Okay, wait. Let me get this thing on first so you don’t bleed out on my couch.”
As she covers the wound, smoothing the bandage into place, Archer doesn’t even wince. He just gazes at her longingly, and I know for a fact that cut has to hurt.
“Now, wait a second,” I say, dropping onto the opposite side of the sofa, putting Freya between us. “I think someone owes me an apology.”
Freya scoffs as she sets her first aid kit on the small round coffee table. “I don’t owe you anything, Julian Kade.”
When she sits back on the couch, she leans toward me. My arm goes around her shoulders, her back against my chest and her legs extended toward Archer.
Fuck, this is nice.
“You totally underestimated my tastes.”
“That’s because I didn’t fully understand them, but now that I do…” Her voice trails, and I stare down at her perfect lips, realizing I haven’t kissed them yet.
Don’t do it, Julian.
Don’t you fucking kiss her romantically like some lovesick boyfriend.
I’m powerless against those full lips and that yearning look in her eyes. The eyes that have seen me at my worst and still seem to want to find me. I have this feeling that even in the most crowded room, these eyes would seek me out.
Touching her chin, I angle her face up toward me. Our eyes lock briefly before I close the distance and softly caress her lips with mine. Her tongue peeks out, and I meet it with mine, gently gliding as I lick into her mouth.
This kiss is tragically exquisite. The way the world seems to fade away around us. The way she melts into my touch, giving herself to me. The way I still taste a hint of hate on her tongue, spicing up the flavor of the kiss.
From her opposite side, Archer growls lowly as if he can sense it too. The cushions dip as he scoots closer.
His hand on her leg slowly travels up her thigh. The energy in the room changes as if it’s charged with heat. I make brief eye contact with Archer, and I know we’re thinking the same thing. We want to make a move but don’t want to put pressure on her or ruin this delicate balance.
Freya must feel it too, because she softly whispers, “Can we take things slow?”
“Of course,” Archer replies as he pulls his hand from her thigh and scoots away.
She snatches his wrist and puts his hand where it was on her bare leg. “Notthatslow,” Freya murmurs shyly as she grips Archer by the back of the neck, latching her lips to his.
He growls against her mouth, and I feel it vibrate through her. I expected being the odd person out would feel awkward, but it doesn’t. Watching them kiss and seeing the pleasure on both of their faces brings me just as much enjoyment as if I was part of the kiss too.
I stroke my hand down Freya’s arm and then up Archer’s. As I drift my fingers up her belly to her breasts, I give the right one a gentle squeeze over her dress, and she responds with a high-pitched moan and an arch in her back.
Archer must remember at this moment that I’m right here because he pulls away from Freya’s mouth and leans toward me for mine. With a strong hand on the side of my face, he pulls me closer and licks his way into my mouth. I nearly forgot how good his kisses feel. Rough and gentle at the same time. As if he’s trying hard not to hurt us. Like we’re precious to him.
It’s nice. But I’d also like to feel what it’s like to see him let go. Be rough with me. Hurt me a little.
In the middle of our kiss, I can feel Freya trailing her mouth along Archer’s neck since she’s sort of pinned between us. The arrangement is awkward, but this is what I love about threesomes. The constant movement of frenetic energy from one body to the next. No shortage of hands or lips or desire. The arousal turns into a circuit of passion coursing steadily through each of us.
And I’ve been in my fair share of them before, but this one feels…different. I’ve never cared so much about someone else’s pleasure before, but it’s almost like because I know the sound of Freya’s laughter, I like to hear her moans even more. And I want to share that with Archer.
I kiss a line down Freya’s shoulder as Archer moves to her neck, peppering kisses along her collarbone.
