Page 96 of Beloved Sacrifice

Don’t be stupid. At the end of this, if you’re lucky, you might have a few weeks with Weston before you have to pay for your crimes. And Marek is better than you, better than both of you.

Shoving that thought aside with an effort of will, she shucked her jacket. It was warm, too warm, on the plane.

They broke the kiss, and Marek kept working Weston’s cock.

“It’s…it’s been too long. I can’t last,” Weston growled.

“Don’t let him come, Marek.”

Marek used his thumb and forefinger to grip the root of Weston’s cock, pinching down.

Weston grunted out, “Thanks.”

“Marek, take off your boxers.” Rose watched him as she tried to think of what else she should make them do.

With a start, she realized that she didn’t have to wait. This wasn’t a BDSM scene, where the play could last hours before any penetrative sex occurred. This could be fast and hard if she wanted. Or if could be slow and sweet.

Slow and sweet sounded nice, but she needed their hands on her. Now.

“Undress me.”

They moved in sync, as if they’d rehearsed. Marek dropped to his knees, reaching for her shoes. Weston raised her hands, kissed his way up her wrist and forearm to her sleeve before grasping the hem of her shirt and working it up.

Marek had her boots and socks off in record time, then started on the button of her jeans, even as Weston drew the shirt up and off, leaving her wearing a black satin bra.

When she had gone to buy the underwear, she’d defiantly picked up a plain white cotton one, only to try it on and find it too heavy and restrictive. Realizing she might not have been missing anything, she went for a black satin bra, since lace ones didn’t look good under T-shirts.

Marek pulled her pants off, exposing the matching black satin thong.

Both men leaned back, looking her over, head to foot. It didn’t feel like they were inspecting a piece of property—she knew what that felt like. Instead, they were appreciating her, almost worshiping her with their gazes.

Feeling bold, she reached out and tangled her fingers in Marek’s dark hair and Weston’s honey-brown locks. She drew Marek’s face to her crotch, rubbing her satin-covered sex against his nose and lips. She pulled Weston to her breasts, lifting her chest slightly so her hard nipples rubbed against his cheek.

Weston groaned and then sucked her breast into his mouth, his saliva quickly soaking through the bra. Then his teeth scraped her nipple and she arched up, the muscles of her arm tensing as she tightened her hold on him.

Marek hooked a hand under her left leg and drew it up over his shoulder. When he pressed his face against her pussy, she could feel the heat of his breath, the rigid line of his teeth.

Weston yanked on her bra, pulling it down so her breasts popped out. Then his mouth closed on her, hot and wet, and sucked on her nipple. Exquisite pleasure pulsed through her, her pussy clenching in response. Marek pulled her panties to the side, and she felt cold air and warm breath against her.

She waited, breathless, for Marek to touch her with his lips. Weston’s free hand grasped the nipple he wasn’t sucking and she arched her body into them. Marek, the son of a bitch, moved back, keeping a finger’s width between his mouth and her pussy.

Rose gritted her teeth as Weston pinched and twisted her nipple, sending another wave of white-hot sensation through her.

“Put your mouth on me,” she gasped. “Now. Lick my clit. And I want your fingers inside me.”

Weston growled and lifted his head from her breast, even as Marek parted her with two fingers and licked from the entrance of her body to her clit. His tongue felt cool against her hot, hot flesh. She clenched and almost cried out when the broad flat of his tongue stroked her clit.

Weston sealed his mouth over hers, cupping the back of her head with his hand. It was a dominant action, claiming her mouth, and for a moment Rose wavered, but then Marek’s tongue stroked through her pussy again, and she remembered that he was acting on her orders. That she was in control here.

And even if she faltered and shut down, slipping into her submissive head space in reaction to Weston, Marek was there.

Rose yanked on Weston’s hair, breaking the kiss. She met his gaze, saw the first flickers of concern appear in his expression. Before he could fall out of the moment, she took his mouth, parting her lips against his and licking the seam of his mouth.

Weston sighed or growled, she couldn’t tell which, and then slid his tongue into her mouth.

Marek chose that moment to slip one finger into her pussy.

Rose broke the kiss. “Bed, bed, bed.”

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