Page 49 of The Betrothal

“He’s persistent,” Ben supplemented.

I shuddered with a silent giggle and Seb turned his sad faux-shock on me. “Something funny, Killer?”

Clamping my mouth closed I shook my head. The thumb he ran over my arches turned to fingers, dancing over the soles of my feet making me twitch, squealing sharply. I was horrendously ticklish.

“Seb! No! Sorry.” I thrashed under his efforts, dragging myself closer to try to manually drag his hands away, ending up almost in his lap. I shoved my assaulted feet into the small gap between him and Ben, throwing an apologetic look in Ben’s direction.

He may have seemed more comfortable with me but there was comfort in proximity and then there was me wriggling into his physical space.

To my surprise, Ben didn’t shrink back or scowl, he was laughing.

Seb released my feet and grabbed my waist, lifting me and dropping me into his lap. My knees bunched up against my chest, the two of us so close to Ben it felt ridiculous. Two sofas and several armchairs, and we were creeping into the personal space of the most cautious, carefully distant person I’d ever met.

Seb’s nose dragged along my jaw and into my hair and my breathing halted entirely.

“You smell just like someone else I know,” he purred.

My lungs began to ache and I drew in a breath. “Is that why you suggested I use Ben’s products? So, I smelled like him?” I wasn’t sure what that would mean and I realised I was desperate to hear his reply.

“Not so you smelled of Ben, although I do like it, but so you smelled how Ben likes.” His fingers tilted my head to bring my eyes to the man in question.

Ben’s lips were parted slightly, the pale blue of his eyes glowing in the flickering fire. He catalogued everywhere Seb touched me – where his face was still buried in my hair, then to my mouth. His body turned in slightly, his arms moving to spread over the back and the arm of the sofa, broad frame on display.

I drew my tongue over my lips, my mouth suddenly so dry, and Ben followed the movement. Not with curiosity, the way he normally watched me, but as though he was unable to look away.

“Isn’t that right, Ben?” Seb dropped his playful nickname and Ben nodded shallowly. “Nothing to say?” Seb pushed him.

I sensed rather than saw the turn of Seb’s head to look at Ben, his fingers still held my face in place, Ben the centre of my focus.

“I like my smell on her,” he stated.

My stomach flipped slightly, I twisted to try to look at Seb, but he held me entirely still so I could see only Ben, Ben observing the two of us in return.

Seb shifted under me and I became acutely aware of how I sat on him. His free hand snaked around my waist and drew me higher on his lap, the solid bulge of an erection unmistakable against my hip.

A soft noise fell from my lips and I clamped them tightly closed to strangle the needy sound.

“Don’t.” My attention snapped to Ben from where I had allowed it to drop away, self-conscious. His eyes were hooded, lips wet where he swept his tongue over them.

The heat in the room was increasing and it had nothing to do with the fire.

“Seb?” I didn’t know how to voice my question. What is this? What are you to Ben? What’s happening?

He heard all of them.

“Neither of us have conforming views on what attraction is, Killer. Ben wants what Ben wants, I want what I want. Why can’t that be both of you? Or you both of us?”

I moaned again, less bashful now. His words had arousal beginning to coil in my lower stomach, tension building.

Ben’s gaze like soft touches. His eyes and Seb’s hands.

Seb’s hips shifted again and I closed my eyes at the press of him running up my hip. I couldn’t be sure, but he was either extremely aroused, or extremely large. Or both.

Drawing in another slow, deep breath, I inadvertently pushed myself into him in kind and I froze.

I wasn’t conservative, but I’d never been in a situation like this, never even begun to imagine one. I hadn’t known myself that this could be something I’d find enjoyable. But I did. My knees shifted mindlessly, thighs rubbing slowly together, seeking out friction where I pulsed with need.

“We can start slowly.” I was tilted so slightly towards Seb, him leaning in to close the distance so I could still find Ben in my line of sight. Reclined against the back of the sofa still, he was motionless, the only exception the shallow rise and fall of his chest.