Page 12 of The Grim, Me, and The Reaper Makes Three

“Good boy,” Atticus praised, not looking away from his lover even as his hands came up to pinch Tatiana’s hard nipples. Hebit back a smile at her low moan, cocking a brow at William. “Well, darling? What are you waiting for?”

He kept up his ministrations on Tatiana, licking his lips as he watched William remove the rest of his clothing. Atticus would never grow tired of William’s broad, hairy chest, the silver rings on his nipples, the black, swirling tattoos that he’d gradually acquired over the years since his death.

When he was naked, his chestnut hair hanging loose around his shoulders, William stepped forward and, without prompting, Atticus reached around and peeled Tatiana’s dress up, bunching the fabric together on her lower back. “You ready for him, love?” Atticus asked.

Tatiana’s response was a whimpered “Please,” and Atticus felt the shudder that went through her body as William thrust inside of her.

His lover didn’t hold back, punching his hips forward, each thrust rippling through Tatiana’s soft body.

This, thought Atticus, was a new iteration of happiness. It wasn’t the first time he and William had shared a partner. It was commonplace for them, bringing someone else into their bedroom for a single night of pleasure.

But something felt distinct about the woman whose sweet breaths tickled his lips, whose heavy breasts filled his hands, whose ass bounced so beautifully against William’s thrusts.

There was something about her that had Atticus’ senses sharpening, making him reluctant to fully lose himself in the moment. He didn’t want to miss any of it, the carnal dance unfolding before him.

The harsh breathing of the two before him mingled, creating a song so beautiful that he wondered if there was a way he could capture it. He was the Reaper, after all; surely all of that power had to be worth something.

Atticus trailed a hand down over Tati’s soft stomach, fingers searching for her?—

“Fuck,” he cursed, feeling his cock throb almost painfully as his fingers found the hot, throbbing nub of her clit. So perfect, so fucking swollen. “Darling, you have been hiding this perfect clit from me this whole time,” he growled, capturing it between two of his fingers and beginning to stroke firmly up and down while circling his fingers.

“Oh,” Tatiana cried, her hips bucking against his hand, causing William to release a feral shout from behind her.

Atticus leaned forward, sinking his teeth into her earlobe, before pulling back to whisper, “Are you going to come again for us, little Tink?”

He felt her body seize, and with a cry, she broke, her body a trembling, sweating mess as she rode through her release. William groaned, and Atticus could only imagine the way her tight cunt was probably squeezing and gripping his cock.

But he couldn’t have his pup coming, not yet. “Pull out,” he commanded, and for a moment William shot a desperate, pleading look his way. But Atticus shook his head, and William did as he was told, stepping away, running his hands up through his hair as the firelight danced over the surface of his wet, throbbing cock.

“You did beautifully, darling,” Atticus murmured, running his hands up and down Tati’s sides. “Let us get you out of this dress and more comfortable, shall we?”

Her eyes were glazed, mascara darkening the skin below her wide brown eyes as she blinked up at him. Carefully, he undid the laces on the back of her dress, tugging it up and over her head. Atticus stifled a groan as her breasts dropped free, heavy and tipped with areolas the color of red grapes and nipples that he just knew would be hot against his tongue.

There. She was naked andfuckshe was stunning.

William came up behind her, large hands tracing up and down her curves as his mouth dropped to place kisses along her neck. Atticus couldn’t make out the words his lover whispered against Tatiana’s skin, but her eyes dropped shut and she craned her neck back, opening more of herself up to him.

They fit together beautifully, the eternal beast and the ethereal beauty, bodies moving together like maybe they had been born from the same celestial substance. Atticus felt the beginnings of an ache behind his breastbone, and pushed himself up to go and join them.

He cast away the rest of his clothing without fanfare, needing to reach them and touch them without anything standing in the way. His own cock, long and slender with a distinct upward curve, brushed against the pale skin of his stomach. He was tired of waiting.

Hot skin met his, and Atticus took a deep breath in, wrapping his arms around the two of them. A warm nose nuzzled into his sternum, and a calloused hand gripped his hip. Allowing himself a moment of tenderness, Atticus pressed a kiss first to William’s sweaty forehead and then to the top of Tatiana’s head.

“Come,” he finally said, drawing away from them and moving toward the sunken sitting area that surrounded their fireplace. A snap of his fingers had a thick fur rug settling onto the floor directly in front of the blazing hearth.

What commenced was a blurred dance—a tugged hand, his palm on Tatiana’s back, a heated press of his mouth to William’s — before they all settled together on the floor. Tatiana was sprawled before him, heavy breasts pooling on her chest and thick thighs spread, leaving her glistening cunt on display. From his position kneeling between her legs, Atticus could see every fold and crevice of her body, and he lowered his head to her, circling his tongue once around her clit before trailing down toher entrance. A hum vibrated from his chest at the combined taste of William’s musk and her own release.

Behind him, Atticus felt William’s hot breath against his hole. Shivers wracked his body, anticipation of what was to come curling his toes and causing his thighs to clench. And at the first brush of William’s tongue, Atticus let out a tortured groan.

Atticus had been no stranger to having a man’s mouth on him when he’d first met William. But that fateful night, the two of them so utterly broken and seeking something from the other in the crowded clubs of the Afterworld, had left Atticus ruined. The way that William’s thick, wet tongue had ravaged him without any ounce of hesitation, the way the man had begged,beggedfor another taste, had forever changed him.

Even now, hundreds of Earth years into their time together, the feeling of his lover’s tongue pressing through the tight ring of muscle filled him with the kind of overwhelming lust that threatened to completely dismantle him. To leave him a formless, shapeless thing comprised entirely of desire and affection.

But he had a beautiful woman beneath him, and so he channeled every spark of arousal solicited by William’s tongue and gave it to her. He sucked, licked, bit at her inner thighs, tasting her and driving her to a writhing mess of madness that filled him with the satisfied pride that came with holding a lover’s pleasure in his hands. He thrust two fingers into her, curling and scissoring them, already imagining her walls clenching around his cock.

Behind him, William had replaced his mouth with his own broad, rough fingers, stretching his opening, preparing him the way Atticus demanded it. Atticus knew he was almost there, almost ready to take William’s thick, pierced cock.

With one last indulgent lick up Tatiana’s slit, Atticus reached a hand back, tangling his wet fingers into William’s wild, loosehair. “Kiss it, pup,” he commanded. “Fuck my hole with your tongue and then I’ll give you what you want.”

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