Chapter 8 #2
“A reminder of my misspent youth.” He doesn’t elaborate further. “Please continue with what you were doing.” With that, he releases me .
I blow out a small breath and unfasten the rest of his buttons.
Once his shirt is hanging open, revealing the perfect smattering of chest hair, I have to force myself to focus. Really all I want to do is drink him in.
“Plenty of time for that in the future.”
This time, I’m not surprised that he’s read me so completely.
I fumble with his intricate cuff links. Small gems catch the overhead light, and I freeze when I see the small owls with bright green emeralds glinting as their eyes. The Zeta Society’s symbol. The arrangement between him and my father suddenly makes more sense. “You’re a Titan.”
Dorian’s expression never changes. “Mmm.” His response isn’t an agreement, nor is it a denial. Which means I’m right.
I’m now moving in a world I know little about.
Realizing he won’t say anything else, I remove the second cuff link and drop both onto the nearby dresser.
Then I return to him to peel his shirt from his shoulders. My fingers brush the hard muscles of his biceps, sending skitters of awareness through me.
Hardly paying attention to what I’m doing, I toss the garment toward the bed. It misses and flutters to the rug.
Since I’m riveted by the sight of him, I don’t even try to pick it up.
Dorian is breathtakingly powerful and lean. Even though I’ve never thought of a man’s body this way, he’s gorgeous.
“Now mine,” Brennan says, his tone patient but firm.
God help me, is he a Dominant too?
Unable to believe any of this is actually happening, I unbutton his shirt.
As I had guessed, his body is even harder than Dorian’s—broader too. Dozens of scars mar his skin.
“That’s it,” Brennan tells me, his voice a soft purr .
I shuck the material over his broad shoulders, and when it falls away, I freeze. Nicks and scars crisscross his skin, and there’s a jagged line along his ribs, along with a puckered mark near his hip.
Stunned, I meet his eyes.
Like Dorian, he says nothing. His features are carefully schooled not to reveal anything. But as I continue to look at him, I glimpse a raw, unguarded moment in his ice-blue eyes.
Then it’s gone, as if it never existed.
“Now my pants,” Dorian instructs.
Why can’t he just take off his own damn clothes so we can get this over with?
“Problem, little one?”
“No.”
While I was removing Brennan’s shirt, my lawful husband had removed his shoes and socks. Am I supposed to be grateful for that?
Pretending I’m not trembling, I fumble with his belt buckle. The metallic clink echoes in the quiet. As I slide the leather from the loops, my knuckles graze his abdomen.
He tenses and growls warningly.
Quickly I look up.
Is my touch affecting him?
Shaking my head, I shove the question away. That’s impossible. I know for a fact he’s been with some of the world’s most stunning women—heiresses, singers, an actress or two.
“You’re trying my patience,” he warns softly.
I open the button at his waist.
His erection is straining the front of his pants, making it almost impossible for me to draw the zipper down.
“Might be easier if you’re on your knees.”
My mouth falls open, and I frantically search his face for any sign he’s kidding .
Oh God. He’s not.
And yet he doesn’t force me to follow his suggestion.
Since there’s no way I’m going to do that, I end up using both hands, curling one around his massive length.
Groaning, he digs a hand into my hair, sending a pin crashing to the floor.
Finally I have the zipper down, and the fabric falls, revealing tight, dark briefs that strain against his arousal.
“Strip me all the way.”
The room is spinning around me.
And this time, to remove the garment, I really have no choice but to kneel.
Lord, help me.
As I draw the material down, his massive cock fills my vision, overwhelming me.
“Very good, little one.” He steps out of his briefs and kicks them aside, standing in front of me, as proud as he is commanding.
Quickly I scramble back to my feet. I can’t be in this position between two massive men.
Undressing Dorian was bad enough, but my other husband is waiting expectantly, his massive arms folded.
Maybe because I’ve already done it once, I manage to undo Brennan’s belt and slacks with less hesitation.
And then…
They fall at his feet, and his enormous cock is arrowing toward me. “Oh.”
Brennan apparently doesn’t believe in being constrained by any kind of underwear.
I glance at him, and his lips are quirked in a half smile.
And now I’m between the hard bodies of two very determined men.
Even if I did have some kind of experience, I’m sure there’s no way I could take both of them at the same time .
“Now…” Dorian says, reaching behind me to unfasten my bra. “I’m ready to see all of you.”
When he slides the straps over my shoulders, I instantly cover myself.
“Show me,” he says softly.
I really don’t want to .
“You responded to me before,” he reminds me, his voice infinitely patient.
That had been different. He had me pinned, kissed me senseless. But now he’s asking me to participate. It’s a totally different experience.
“You can do it.” Gently he captures my wrists and lowers them to my sides. “Stay as you are.”
He takes a step back.
Cool air whispers across my skin, making my nipples harden.
Impossibly his erection seems to grow.
“So very beautiful.”
I close my eyes.
“Look at me, little one.”
Compelled by the soft command in his voice, I do.
“I don’t say what I don’t mean.”
There’s an insistent edge in his tone.
To back up his words, he claims my mouth with his in a slow, deliberate kiss that makes my objections scatter. He builds to a deeper, consuming heat, his tongue teasing mine with a rhythm that’s relentless, unraveling me thread by thread.
I press my hands against his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heart. Then, unable to help myself, I melt into him.
Brennan moves behind me, his hands warm on my hips, thumbs tracing the lacy waistline of my panties. “Don’t think, Isla,” he encourages. “Get out of your head.”
As if that’s possible for me .
If overthinking had a world championship, I’d be a gold medalist.
His breath is warm against my neck, and he moves aside stray strands of hair to place a soft kiss there.
The two of them are undoing me completely.
Even when Dorian ends the kiss, Brennan’s lips linger on my neck, and his hands stay steady on my hips.
“Relax,” Dorian murmurs. “You’re doing fine.”
I shiver. His approval shouldn’t matter, but it does.
My mouth dries as Brennan kneels behind me. He hooks his strong fingers into my panties and tugs the material down. Cool air hits my bare skin, making me tense.
“Step out of them,” Brennan tells me.
I lift one foot, then the other. The lace drops to the floor.
Dorian pulls back, his eyes dark. “Let us look at you.”
Staying there, naked, not covering myself up, requires all my self-control.
Brennan rises, his chest brushing my back. “You’re perfect,” he whispers near my ear.
Even though I really don’t believe either of them, their words help ease my doubts.
Dorian takes my wrist. “Touch me,” he says, pressing my palm against his chest.
At the same time, Brennan slides his hands up my sides, grazing one of my breasts with his thumb.
I gasp, and Dorian kisses me again—starting out gently, then becoming more insistent.
“We’ve got you.” Brennan strokes my nipple.
Pleasure arcs through me. Against Dorian’s mouth, I sigh.
“You’re our good girl,” Dorian says when he breaks the kiss. His voice is filled with warm approval, making my heart race.
If they’d been harsh with me, as I expected, I still would have gone through with it, but I would have been able to separate myself from what was happening to me. I’d have closed my eyes and endured.
But this…? They’re making me participate, and their gentleness is breaking me open.
Brennan kneels behind me, hands on my thighs. “Spread your legs for me, Isla,” he murmurs.
Even though I’m shaking, I do what he asks, and he slides a hand between my thighs, then between my feminine folds.
My knees buckle, but Dorian steadies me, holding me upright.
Somehow they maneuver so that Brennan is now in front of me, and he finds me with his mouth.
Once more, I jolt, and this time I cry out.
Dorian splays his fingers against my back, offering support. “Let him pleasure you.”
I had no idea anything like this existed.
Brennan moves his tongue in gentle, sure motions. Heat builds up in me, and frantically I grip Dorian’s shoulders.
“Oh yeah. That’s it,” Dorian whispers. “Give in.”
I can’t hold back. Pleasure hits me, sharply and suddenly, making me weak.
But both men are there for me, and Brennan grasps my thighs. “So responsive. So perfect.”
I’m panting, dazed. They don’t stop.
Dorian slides a hand down me, over my stomach, then lower. “Again,” he tells me. “Come for us one more time.”
I would never have expected Dorian to be a generous lover. But I think back to the way he took me into that room earlier, and he’d given me orgasms without expecting anything in return.
He presses his fingertip to my clit, his touch gentler than I could have imagined. He draws circles on the bundle of nerves, making me whimper.
“You’re doing so well,” Brennan says, standing behind me, trapping me with his hard body, his rigid erection pushing into me.
Dorian’s fingers quicken. Another wave crashes into me, this one even more powerful than the last. With a moan, I sag against him.
“Good.” Gently he kisses my forehead. “So good.”
How is this possible? I’m totally lost in them, trusting these two determined men, despite myself.
Brennan reaches around me to cup my breasts. “Think she’s ready yet?”
Ready? My nipples are hard, aching.
“One more,” Dorian replies.
How much more can I take?
“Agree,” Brennan says as Dorian resumes his sweet torment.
Still holding my breasts in the cradle of his palms, Brennan feathers his thumbs over the swollen tips. Then he kisses my nape as Dorian claims my mouth again.
The sensations—their hands everywhere, their lips tormenting me—overwhelm me.
Lost in them, I close my eyes.
Dorian slides a finger inside me, and I freeze.
“It’s okay,” Brennan promises.
As Dorian eases in and out, he continues to play with my clit, and Brennan lightly squeezes my breasts, distracting me.
I wobble a little, and Dorian adds a second finger. “Oh.”
Stunning me, another climax begins to build, making me stiffen.
“That’s it,” Brennan coaches. “You’re almost there.” He pinches my nipples. “Take it, Isla.”
This time, my orgasm is so sharp it’s almost painful.
Wrenching my mouth away from Dorian’s, I cry out, wrapping my arms around his neck and clinging to him .
Brennan pushes against me, offering strength, as he says, “You’re so goddamn perfect for us.”
I’m spent, shaky, unsure I can take any more.
Unexpectedly Dorian scoops me up and carries me toward the bed. After Brennan pulls back the duvet, Dorian places me on the crisp sheets.
“Ready to become ours, little one?”