Page 19 of Lord of Dance and Desire

Chaperones.

I didn't think that was what the Victorians had had in mind. Trust the High Fae to put their spin on it.

Andrei lifted my bottom and dragged me up so I rested on his thighs, aligning me, my knees draped over his shoulders.

He lowered his head, blew gently, and I moaned even from that ethereal touch.

“Spread her,” he said.

“We won't touch her without her permission,” Constin said.

Andrei lifted his gaze, pinning me, a question behind the dark glaze.

I understood what he wanted, why he wanted them to touch me. It would help anchor him, keep him from completely losing himself. If he did that now, in his current state. . .

“Okay,” I said, hesitant, then firmed my voice. “You can both touch.”

Constin glanced at Mathen, who crawled close and rose on his knees, reaching a hand between my legs. His brown fingers delicately spread my folds, giving Andrei the perfect access.

“Lord.” As if Mathen was a master chef presenting a Micheline starred dish.

I giggled this time. I couldn't help it.

Constin sighed. “She's one of those,” he murmured.

The giggling turned to moans the moment Andrei’s tongue touched my clit. He licked, rubbed a gentle circle, and then a long line up and down my slit before focusing on the bundle of nerves.

“More,” I gasped. I couldn't move, not from this angle, I was helpless. But I needed more.

Andrei’s tongue pierced my opening, delving deep. Mathen took over rubbing my clit, his fingers swift and gentle as Andrei held my legs spread wide and immobile.

I wasn't a natural cusser, but every filthy word I’d ever learned in my mother's native language spilled from my mouth. I dug my fingers into Andrei's thighs. “More, damn you all. More.”

Pleasure built, layers of overlapping sensation, Andrei and Mathen gentling their pace at regular intervals.

It occurred to me after some time that they were doing it on purpose. Bringing me to a peak, then swatting me back down. Again and again until tears streamed from my eyes and cursing turned into pleas.

“She's also one of those,” Constin said from a distance, heat in the masculine drawl. “I expected the tears since she’s a crier, but not the begging.”

“I thought,” I gasped, “making me beg—” Andrei's tongue plunged inside again and I screamed, panting, Mathen’s fingers rougher, the pressure exquisite “—was the point.”

I turned my head to look at Constin, flinging an arm out in silent plea. He was the referee, the only one Andrei listened to.

This was torture.

This was cruel.

This was calculated.

Three sets of predatory Fae eyes looked at me, gauging the state of my submission.

Constin moved from his place behind Andrei to my side, his look contemplative.

“Take that shit off her,” Andrei said, lifting his head just enough to speak.Someone was losing their elegant turn of phrase, a High Lord devolving into a thug.

The first luudthen tugged on my shirt, pulling it over my head, then did the same with my sports bra. The men inhaled, staringat mid-sized breasts that spilled free. Constin covered one breast with his pale gold hand and squeezed.

My eyes fluttered closed.

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