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He was tender, but insistent. Playful, yet dominant. And this was just a kiss. My thoughts, my worries, scattered.
Well, maybe there was one other lingering fragment of thought. What would Leo’s kiss feel like? Was he gentle and tender? Hard and demanding? Fierce and passionate? And while Dane kissed me, what would Leo do to me?
The thought of both of them touching me, kissing me, exploring every curve of my body, made me hot. Eager. So needy my panties were ruined.
The kiss made me bold. Or maybe it was the shelter of Dane’s arms, the comfort of his bed, of how he’d held me how I slept. I could be safe with him, even in exploring my desires.
Before I knew it, my hands were wrapped around Dane’s neck. I’d climbed into his lap, and was straddling him, with no qualms whatsoever about grinding against the hard bulge of his cock straining against the fabric of his pants.
Sadly, I heard the need in my own voice as I moaned and called his name in a sexy, foreign tone. It caused me to open my eyes and pull away slightly.
“Sweet,” he said. “You taste sweet.”
I rolled my eyes, turned my head away. “God, I probably taste like morning breath.”
He took hold of my chin, turned it back so I had to meet his penetrating gaze. “It’s the middle of the night. No morning breath.” His eyes dropped for a second. “I have to wonder if you taste sweet everywhere.”
“I’ve been wondering that, too.”
The deep voice came from the open doorway.
Leo.
He stood there, sexy as all get-out, wearing only a pair of black boxer shorts. Snug ones that hid nothing, even in the dim bathroom lighting.
Words.
There were none.
My eyes stopped blinking, my jaw dropped open slightly, my mouth started to water, and I ran my tongue across my top lip as I took in the feast of dense, chiseled muscles everywhere on his chest arms, abs, and down to his thighs and legs.
Leo had a perfect body.
Every. Solid. Square. Inch.
And the tattoos. Holy crap. His right arm and torso were mostly covered in ink. He looked like a bad boy. Ruthless. And yet I thought of how he’d taken care of me.
My ovaries exploded in response to the sensory overload. I was ogling one man while sitting in the lap of another. Two perfect men in one massive bedroom, and by the way Leo’s cock was tenting his boxer briefs and the feel of Dane’s pressing against my pussy, they both wanted me.
Realizing that no words could possibly do the moment justice, I took a deep breath, let it out. I even mumbled “fuck” under my breath. How did a girl prepare herself for what was to come? My pussy and nipples, and every other erogenous part of my body, said no prep was needed. I was ready for this. Hell, I was overdue. I had a backlog of orgasms to catch up on, and I had a feeling these guys would help wi
th that.
When Dane’s hand slid up my bare thigh, I realized my dress was still hitched up about my waist. The dress I wore consistently to work events. I reached up, felt the mayhem happening in the vicinity of what used to be my hair. It was everywhere. And crazy, as though I’d teased it and re-teased it, then shook it out like a wild animal, or someone headlining for an eighties heavy metal rock band.
I looked a wreck and they still wanted me? I licked my lips, and I felt a rumble in Dane’s chest more than heard it. “Can I ask you two a question?”
“Of course,” Leo answered, crossing the room to stand beside the bed. “Anything at all.”
“How exactly does this…work?” I glanced from Dane to Leo. “With the three of us?”
He extended his arm to me, palm facing up. “It’s pretty simple. Take my hand.” I did. He tugged me off of Dane’s lap and to my feet before him. My skirt slid down my thighs. He placed my palm against his chest. Warm, yet rock hard. The prickle of the smattering of chest hair was soft. His muscles shifted. “Feel that?”
I licked my lips again. “Uh, yes.”
He stepped closer and ran his other hand down my outer arm, letting it come to rest on the swell of my hip. “And that?”
“Yes,” I whispered, smiling a little. Goose bumps rose on my skin.
