Page 150 of Break Out the Girl

Not the very first time.

“Guys…”

We herd her onto the soft fluffy rug set before the glowing logs.

London grabs every cushion we own and throws them onto the floor, piling them alongside the rug. “Must make it comfy, right?” His eyes are wide, filled with desire, and a little nervousness.

It’s endearing.

“So, I—uh—how is this actually going to work?” he mumbles. “Do-do we take turns? Or is it a tactical pile-up? Because I don’t want to get my hooves tangled in Burt’s fur and I really, really don’t want to wait until last.”

Both Tally and Rory chuckle, as Aurora holds her hand out. “Come sit beside me, London. We’ll all figure this out together.” Before London can claim his spot, Taliesin pulls Aurora onto his lap, burying his nose into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent with a possessive hunger.

This.

This does not need to be hurried.

And it is already perfect. I step away slowly unbuttoning my cuffs, then the buttons of my shirt.

There is no hierarchy here. Just a girl we all adore, a hungry wolf, a hapless faun and I.

I am the person who will give them all the steady hand they need.

“Relax, London,” I murmur, my voice dropping into its hypnotic cadence. Not that I’m going to use my powers, but I want everyone to be at ease.

Dropping to one knee on the edge of the cream rug, I reach out and grasp Aurora’s slim ankle, my thumb stroking the sensitive skin. “There will be no rushing,” I tell London, my dark eyes locking onto Aurora’s with absolute, unyielding possession. “Each of us will experience more pleasure than we’ve ever known. Questions are encouraged.”

The faun immediately raises his hand so I amend that. “Questions will be allowed sporadically. But first things first.” Tally and London sit back, completely allowing me to take the lead.

I take a moment and think things through. I am French. Elite French.

When I was fifteen my Godfather took me to meet his mistress so she and her friend could initiate me in the ways of pleasing a woman.

I’m sure that it never entered his mind that I might also want to please a man—that I had to learn separately.

“First things first,” I repeat. “She must be undressed. London, if you please. Undo each button of Aurora’s blouse—slowly.”

I watch him take a deep breath, then reach out, almost awestruck, like a conservator taking the first delicate brushstroke to a long-lost Renoir.

The shirt she wears is slightly cropped, a blue and white stripe. He releases the lowest button first, allowing us a further glimpse of her pale skin and quivering stomach muscles.

And yes, I have already seen Aurora half-naked, shivering and clutching a ragged prison towel, but there is nothing sensuous about that memory, just concern that I couldn't express.

As London releases the next button, the underside of a pale pink lace brassiere is revealed. My erection is already pressing painfully inside my slacks.

This minuscule glimpse of lingerie feels like the most erotic moment of my life.

“Again,” I command, my voice rasping. At the last fastening, the soft linen falls to the sides of her sleek torso. Taliesin and London kneel like the acolytes, worshiping at the altar of their goddess.

Her breathing is rapid, the creamy soft mounds of her breasts spilling slightly above the delicate tissu dentelle. “Taliesin, lean forward. Release a hot breath above her left nipple.”

“Fuck…” Aurora groans.

Her sweet, rosy téton is already hardened, visible through the fabric. As Taliesin blows gently, she squirms, rubbing her thighs together.

A rumble sounds from deep in Taliesin’s chest. No doubt his wolf nose is scenting her arousal. How I wish my own senses were so developed. “Sit back,” I tell him. “Now, London, pull down Aurora’s trousers. Raise her hips for him, my love.” She eagerly complies. The culottes are elasticated at the waist. I think all three of us hold our breath as they slide down her hips to reveal the panties beneath.

Of course.