Page 11 of The Grim, Me, and The Reaper Makes Three

Tati couldn’t form the words to reply, standing suspended beside them. She watched as Atticus retrieved the rubber ring and began to carefully slide it over the crown of William’s cock.

William let out a sharp hiss, his head falling back as Atticus worked the rubber ring over each of William’s piercings. Atticus’ expression was focused as the ring reached the base, the rubber tight enough that it pressed into William’s skin.

“What is your color, pup?” Atticus tilted his head back, his expression earnest as he looked up at William.

“Green,” William choked out.

Atticus’ mouth twisted into a smile. “Good boy,” he said, just as he leaned forward without warning and took half of William’s cock into his mouth.

“Oh fuck,” William hissed, his thighs trembling. “Atti…”

The man didn’t respond, too busy licking and slurping his lover’s cock to reply. Tati tightened her thighs, her body already hungry for more.

With a pop, Atticus released William’s cock, licking his lips with a dark smirk before his hooded eyes slid over to Tati. “Well, Tatiana? Are you ready?”

Tati shifted again. “Ready for what?”

“To be fucked,” he said, his tone matter of fact.

“Yes,” she heard herself respond. And she was.

She was ready for anything.

5

ATTICUS

Atticus was generally quite impartial to the female body.

There was something about the fragile, bird-like quality of their bones, the soft, wetness of their intimate places, and the higher timbre of their voices that did nothing for him. They were something he tolerated on occasion for the sake of his partner.

But the woman currently in front of him was none of those things. Her body was full, curves swelling and ripe like the first peaches of late summer. Her voice was rich, possessing a hypnotic quality that reminded him of the sound of a viola compared to that of a violin.

She was beautiful in a way that demanded the attention of an artist. He let himself consider, for a moment, which medium would be best to capture her. Paint — too basic. Watercolor, too fragile. Marble, too unyielding and harsh.

Clay. A rich, orange clay would do it. His hands flexed, imagining pressing his thumbs into her thighs as though sculpting her. His cock, already hard and straining, throbbed against the placket of his trousers.

His eyes flicked up to William. His lover—no, hiseverything, looked down at him with such adoration and trust in his amber eyes that Atticus felt his throat tighten with unwanted emotion.

“Come here, Tatiana.” Atticus ground the words out, his throat rough from swallowing down his pup’s perfect cock.

She swayed toward him, the garish green of her tiny little dress stretched tight, leaving none of her body to the imagination. He decided then and there that he’d need to devote some time to acquainting himself with each swell and dip of her stomach and hips before tracing her heavy breasts with his tongue.

He wondered if her skin tasted as sweet as her mouth.

Sensing her uncertainty, Atticus gently grabbed her hands, pulling her around until she stood between his spread thighs, William crowding her body from behind. He tugged her forward, her hands naturally coming down to brace herself against his thighs.

Atticus smiled. The position was perfect. Her flushed face hovered directly in front of his, and her ass was beautifully on display for the man who stood behind her.

A pleased hum vibrated in Atticus’ chest at the sight of William’s hungry stare as he looked down at Tatiana.

There were few things in the world that brought Atticus true, sincere happiness. A perfectly quiet morning accompanied by a cup of strong green tea. An entire day uninterrupted by work communications was another. But nothing in the eternal universe came close to the feeling that overwhelmed him when William was happy.

And right now, with his thick brows furrowed and his lush mouth parted, William was undoubtedly happy.

“Do you like your treat, pup?”

William’s eyes glanced up to meet his gaze, and he nodded eagerly.

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