Chapter 29 All Rise
TWENTY NINE
All Rise
April
“That means someone has to sit out," Killian said. Arthur was already unbuttoning his belt, leather sliding free with a soft hiss. "I'm sitting out." Everyone looked at him.
"I want to watch," he said simply, settling back into the cushions.
Killian's reached for her hand, "I'm abstaining. If that's acceptable. I want all of your attention when it's my turn."
“Yes.”
His shoulders eased.
"That leaves six of us for five positions," Caleb said, already moving. He produced a cup with straws from somewhere. "We draw. Shortest gets first pick, longest sits out."
The six men stood: Mateo, Jiro, Caleb, Liam, Dante, Jax. And then they were moving away from the couch toward wherever Caleb had found the straws, leaving April alone with Arthur and Killian.
Arthur's hand found her hip. Killian's her waist. They pulled her between them, rearranging her until she settled against the cushions, Arthur on one side, Killian on the other.
Killian's hand cupped her jaw, turning her face toward him. His kiss was controlled, his lips firm against hers. Then Arthur's fingers threaded through her hair from the other side, guiding her toward him.
Back and forth. Arthur's mouth claiming hers with that careful precision, then Killian turning her head, his tongue sweeping against hers in a way that made her gasp.
Killian's palm sliding down her side, tracing the curve of her waist. Arthur's fingers skimming along her thigh, not quite reaching where heat was building. Someone brushed the underside of her breast through her shirt, feather-light, making her arch into the touch.
But they didn't give her what she wanted. They kept her suspended in that space between comfort and need, kissing her breathless while their hands mapped everywhere except where she was starting to ache for contact.
Across the room, the six men had lined up the straws on the coffee table, shortest to longest.
Mateo had the shortest. He didn't hesitate. "Pussy."
Jax had the second shortest. His smile was slow and wicked. "Ass."
Jiro was third. "Mouth."
Caleb was fourth. He looked at what was left and grinned. "Left hand."
Dante had the second longest straw. He looked at the straw. Then the only position left: right hand. He cursed in Italian. "You take it. I want her to myself later anyway."
Liam took the straw, looking amused. "Right hand, then."
The five men: Mateo, Jiro, Caleb, Liam, Jax, started talking logistics. Positions. Order. Who would move where and when.
Dante turned back toward the couch.
He dropped to his knees at the edge of the massive cushions and started crawling toward her.
April watched his shoulders shift as he moved forward, hips swaying, prowling like a panther. His eyes never left hers.
Killian's hand flexed on her hip. Arthur's mouth curved where it rested against her temple, making a sound of male satisfaction.
When Dante reached her, his hands went to the waistband of her boxers. He pulled them down slowly, his knuckles dragging against her skin, and tossed them aside.
Then his hands slid up the inside of her thighs, spreading her wide.
Heat rose up her chest. After everything today, she was still capable of embarrassment at being exposed like this to everyone in the room.
Dante's thumbs pressed into the creases where her thighs met her body, holding her in place. "Princesspia," he murmured, breath warm against her inner thigh.
Arthur's hand found her breast, no longer teasing. His palm cupped the full weight of it through her shirt, thumb circling her nipple until it peaked hard against the fabric. Killian's fingers found her other breast, the pressure more deliberate, testing her response.
Dante pressed his mouth to her inner thigh, not kissing, only the pressure of his lips, then the scrape of his teeth.
He moved higher. His tongue traced a line up her thigh, teasing her intentionally. She made a small sound of frustration. Then his mouth was on her—one long, deliberate lick from hole to clit that made her hips jerk.
"That's cheating," Caleb called from across the room.
Dante didn't stop. His tongue circled her clit with precision, testing pressure and angle.
"If you wanted her, you should have kept your straw," Jax said, amused.
Dante lifted his head just enough to speak. "There was no straw designated for this position. Princesspia deserves to be properly worshipped first."
Then his mouth returned, and whatever response anyone had died in the air.
He adjusted when she twitched. Shifted pressure when her breath hitched. His fingers tightened on her thighs. The scrape of his teeth against sensitive skin. The low sound he made when she gasped.
Arthur's thumb found her nipple through her shirt, pinching lightly. Killian's hand slid under the fabric, palm hot against her bare breast, and she arched into both touches at once.
Dante's tongue moved faster. More pressure. He found the exact angle that reorganized her breathing and kept it there, relentless and focused.
Want sharpened into need. Her thighs tensed against his grip then settled into them. The pleasure built, insistent. When it broke, she cried out, breathless, her body clenching as it rolled through her.
Dante kept his mouth on her through it, and then lifted his head, eyes satisfied.
Across the room, Jax and Caleb were gathering supplies. They ended up standing close, both focused on what they needed, aware of each other's presence. Both naked.
Caleb glanced sideways, caught sight of Jax's cock, the three barbells running up the underside in precise spacing, titanium catching the light.
Jax noticed Caleb noticing, followed his gaze down to Caleb's erection, the pronounced leftward curve that any other man might be self-conscious about.
Their eyes met. Jax's gaze flicked back down to Caleb's curve, then up. Caleb's did the same, barbells, then eyes.
Jax grinned first. "For her pleasure?"
"For her pleasure."
Then they turned back toward April, supplies in hand.
Killian's hands at her waist. Arthur's at her back. They eased her upright and then guided her to where Mateo sat waiting.
She straddled his lap, her knees sinking into the cushions on either side of his thighs, his cock trapped between their bodies.
The cotton bunched at his wrists as he guided her down onto him, fabric catching between their bodies.
His hands slid under the hem of her shirt, warm palms settling on bare skin at her hips.
His mouth slanted over hers, tongue sweeping in, and she opened for him immediately.
The kiss was hard and deep, their mouths working together while their bodies shifted, trying to get closer.
His hand came up to cup the back of her head, angling her how he wanted, and she tasted espresso on his tongue, bitter and rich.
The pop of a lube bottle made her break the kiss. She looked down as Jax's hand appeared between them, lubed and glistening, and wrapped around Mateo's length.
Jax ran his hand down Mateo's cock in one smooth stroke.
"Whoa—" Mateo jerked.
"Watching out for April," Jax said, meeting her eyes with a grin.
Heat flashed through her at the casual intimacy of it: Jax's hand on Mateo's cock, Mateo's breath stuttering, all of it for her.
The kiss resumed, slower this time. Their mouths sliding together, breathless and sloppy as their bodies moved. His hands guided her hips up, positioning himself at her entrance. She sank onto him slowly.
She was slick from Dante's mouth and the lube. Mateo's entered her easily, then they were flush. He filled her completely.
His eyes stayed on her. His hands steady on her hips, thumbs stroking slow arcs against her skin.
Arms looped around his neck. Her cheek brushed the rough edge of his stubble; “Hi,” she whispered, the single syllable blooming warm in her throat and fanning outward through her chest, her belly, right down to where he filled her.
“Hi.” Mateo’s answering grin was slow and sure, heat without hurry.
They didn't move. Their sternums pressed together until her racing heartbeat settled into his unhurried thump.
Warmth spread, until she felt boneless and full all at once.
Her nipples peaked against her shirt. Mateo's gaze tracked down, then back up to her face, his expression shifting, hunger sharpening it. His hands flexed under the fabric.
Her hips made the first shallow rock. Small movements at first. She set the rhythm and he followed, letting her take what she wanted.
His mouth moved to her ear. "You're beautiful when you're greedy."
Her face went hot. She looked at him. He looked back. Held her like wanting was the whole point.
Then Jax's voice behind her. "May I?"
The nervous flutter in her ribs spiked, circuitry going live. She looked over her shoulder at him. Dark eyes, patient, lube-slick fingers held carefully away from her skin. She nodded once, “Yes.”
Jax's slick fingers met her hole, circling gently.
The first press of Jax's fingers made Mateo's cock respond through the wall between them, a slow throb she felt from both sides at once.
Jax eased his fingers out. She heard lube click. Then his chest pressed against her back, his body heat arriving before anything else, the specific weight of him settled against her spine, not yet inside her but there, his breath warm at her ear.
"Whatever happens with us, your body will haunt mine. Tender, delicate."
The breath she'd been holding left as he pushed forward; she gasped as the first barbell dragged through her entrance, metal where her body expected only skin, a ridge catching and releasing.
"Oh—"
"I've got you." His mouth pressed to her neck. "Just breathe."
He seated himself fully. Both of them inside her now: Mateo’s smooth heat, Jax’s textured insistence. Almost nothing between them. Every small movement from one echoing though her to the other. Nowhere for sensation to go.
"Don't move yet. Just—give me a second."