Page 95 of Beloved Sacrifice

Silence stretched to the point of being awkward. Marek grabbed his underwear and slid it back on, then slipped around behind her, his chest against her back, his hands settling lightly on her hips. “I’m here. I’m with you. You’re in control, Rose. I’ll help you.”

Rose reached down and pressed his hands more firmly against her hips. “Don’t let me kneel.”

“I won’t,” he murmured. Then Marek proved that for all his good manners and upstanding bearing, he had the soul of a sexual deviant. “What do you want him to do? You could have him stroke his cock until he’s ready to come but then order him to stop. You could make him kneel and watch as you take your clothes off, piece by piece.”

Rose’s nipples hardened inside her shirt. Holy shit. Having Marek at her back, whispering naughty things while Wes stood in front of her, naked and ready, was hot.

“Stroke yourself,” Rose told Weston.

His eyes blazed with desire as he curled the fingers of his right hand around his shaft, rubbing the head of his cock with his thumb.

“Make your cock hard for me,” Rose added, her nipples diamond hard inside her bra.

Weston let out a little groan, and Marek’s cock pressed against her ass. Weston kept stroking, his heavy-lidded gaze focused on her.

“Do you want to touch me?” Rose purred.

“Yes,” Weston ground out.

She laid her fingers over Marek’s hands and guided them up her sides, sliding them under her jacket until his forefingers rested just under the swell of her breasts.

Weston squeezed his cock hard, his breathing labored.

“Do you like this? Do you like seeing him touch me?” Rose hadn’t meant to ask that second question, because the answer could mean this whole scene came to a grinding halt.

“Yes, Brown Eyes, yes. I want—” He clamped his lips together to stop himself from speaking.

“What do you want?”

Wes shook his head. “This is about what you want.”

“And what if I want to watch you touch Marek?”

There was only the briefest pause before he said, “Then I will.”

Rose shook her head. “I won’t make you, either of you, do anything you don’t want.” Her words came out fierce and hard.

Weston looked at her, his hand still on his cock. “I know you wouldn’t.”

Marek’s fingers flexed against her rib cage, reminding her he was there.

“And what if I want Marek to touch you?” she asked.

Wes’s eyes widened before his hand started stroking again. “As you wish.”

Rose’s heart clenched, and she wondered if he remembered the night they’d stayed up watching The Princess Bride.

“Take your hand off your cock,” she told Weston. Then to Marek, “I want you to stroke him.”

Marek stepped out from behind her and went to Weston. He laid his hand on Weston’s shoulder, trailing his knuckles down Wes’s chest and abdomen until his fist bumped his cock.

Weston closed his eyes, his head falling back. Marek wrapped his fingers lightly around the hard length of cock, stroking up and down in sure motions.

Rose watched, her whole body tingling with arousal. Weston’s head tipped forward, his eyes opening. His gaze met Marek’s and then, with a little growl, he grabbed Marek by the back of the head and kissed him.

Rose blinked in surprise, then blinked again as a shiver of pleasure racked her. If she was asked to label herself, she’d call herself pansexual—as a serious submissive, she’d been part of just about any pairing even the kinkiest person could imagine. But she’d never reacted this way to seeing two men together.

Probably because this wasn’t just two random male submissives ordered to put on a show for the crowd. These were her men.

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