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His words fell away as I continued to stare into his eyes, my fingers working the button free and then peeling the fabric away. When I was met by bare skin, my eyes jerked down.
“Commando?” I rasped.
“I fucking hate—uh!”
He groaned as my hands slid down and around his considerable length, my thumb sliding up to rest on the sensitive spot just under the head.
I smiled when I watched him pant, his eyes going wide.
“Good, brother?” Peter said.
“I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole fucking life for this,” he groaned.
“Worth the wait?”
He could only make out one quick nod before my hand began to move.
I liked Aidan’s expressiveness, that I knew exactly how this felt for him, what he liked and what he loved. I loved how he cradled me closer as I stroked him, his kisses peppering my head. I loved how he thrust up into my grip, how he groaned, how he made this sound like a simple hand job was the most amazing sexual experience in the world. I even loved it when he pushed my hand away, putting me down on my back, looming over me.
“You OK?” he asked, settling between my legs. I nodded. “Tell me if this gets too much, yeah?”
“Squeeze my hand,” Peter said, smiling when my eyes flicked to him. His gaze was as warm as butterscotch, and I could just dive right into it. He took my hand and then kissed the knuckles as Aidan took advantage of my bared neck. His teeth closed on the skin for a second, leaving a stinging caress before kissing that away.
I tried to hang on, to hold Peter’s gaze, but as Aidan’s kisses went lower, seeming to trace my collarbone anew, I couldn’t. I surrendered, a feeling so odd, it took me a while to recognise it. That constant need to question and anticipate what he would do, to pull away or stop him fell to one side.
Mate. The word rang inside me like a bell.
I realised then that I’d never had anything like this with any man before Peter and Aidan, even when I was younger and more naïve. Only with them.
I was free, to gasp when he unbuttoned my shirt, when his hands delved in, pushing my bra aside and over my breasts, when he watched me twitch as the calluses dragged over my nipples. I could tangle my hands in his silky hair as his lips closed around one aching tip, sucking it in. I could relax as his hand roamed what I felt was my flawed body, knowing he’d seen enough of it to decide he was into it. And he was. I could feel it in the desperate rake of his fingers, the animal like grunts. He was losing control, I could feel it, all that easy-going composure being tossed to one side and something a whole lot sexier rising up.
He pulled back, resting on his heels, and my hand went to his erection as a matter of course. Because I liked the way it stopped him in his tracks, made him surrender to me, staying oh so still, as if his reactions would somehow stop me.
But finally, he did. His eyes opened a crack, and he smiled, slow and lazy, moving slowly to my jeans’ waistband.
“Can we take these off?” he asked. I nodded, going to do just that, but he batted my hands away. “Let me,” he said, and I realised how often he said that to me. That concerned me for a split second, as if maybe I was becoming the arrogant partner that took the other for granted, but I couldn’t think about that for too long. He peeled my jeans off, and then my underwear, in what felt like seconds. Then his hands went to my thighs, sliding them open with gentle but firm hands, and his eyes dropped down.
I fought the need to thrust a hand down, place a barrier between him and me, but I was rewarded with a hot smile when I didn’t.
“Mmm…” he said, reaching down and sweeping two fingers through my folds, forcing my back to arch under that brief caress. “So fucking wet.” And then he sucked them clean. “Like honey,” he said to Peter in wonder.
“I told you. It’s been killing me, keeping my head out from between her thighs,” Peter replied.
“Don’t hold yourself back on my account,” I said, the words out before I could think otherwise. Everyone paused, freezing for the moment, then the two of them burst out laughing.
"We’ve woken a beast, have we?” Peter purred, kissing me once, then more, until my head was spinning with the slow, drugging sensation.
“One I’d gladly feed, often,” Aidan said, shifting, and then there it was.
Peter’s mouth followed mine, his tongue slipping in as Aidan’s did also, somewhere much more intimate.
Ohh…fuck. Peter had been hungry, using a brutal efficiency when we’d gotten naked, but Aidan was a much slower, sensual animal. He dipped his tongue in and out again, just enough to sensitise me, moaning when he got my taste. Then he kissed the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, covering every inch until I was twitching with need, my hand shooting out and grabbing his hair. He chuckled when I pushed him closer to where I ached, then rewarded me with a long lick along my clit and its hood, making my hips follow him.
“So plush and soft,” he murmured as he stroked a finger through my folds, circling my aching entrance, as if to draw my attention to the need to be filled. His other hand landed on my leg when I tried to move closer. “I know what you need, love, and I’m gonna give it to you.”
It was as if they had planned this. Aidan’s fingers slid in, his tongue flicking out as Peter’s mouth closed around my nipple.
“Oh!”
