Page 54 of Trials of Dusk and Dreams
I nod. She gives me a coy look from beneath her platinum blond, wavy hair and starts tapping a beat on a porcelain saucepan between her legs as she sings, “We have the chance to turn the pages over . . .”
“Behind her.” Legion’s gruff order draws me out of the memory.
“What am I to do?” Bodin returns, sliding around to stand behind me.
“Brace her. Stop her from falling off the dais.”
Warm, steady hands land on my hips. Bodin presses the length of his body against my spine.
“This feels awkward,” his deep voice vibrates through my back, but I’m moaning at the tingling sensations.
“Feels right to me.” I move to the music, swaying my hips, falling back into my memory. While I scowled too much to dance that day with Melody, I’m making up for lost time now. I’ll have to tell her one day that I remembered. That I danced thinking fondly of her.
“Sway your hips in time with hers.” Legion’s voice grows huskier, quieter. “Yes. Like that.”
If I could stay here forever, I would. It feels so good leaning against my warm pillar of strength, to feel safe enough to let myself go without being too drunk to know my name. The effects of that grape are mild, as Legion predicted, and not muddling my thoughts. I just feel . . . happy.
It would be my honor to catch you.Fox’s voice swims into my mind. My eyes flutter closed, and my grin turns wistful as the music sinks into my bones. I reach behind to rest my hand around Bodin’s neck. His breathy growl of approval tickles my skin, tightens my nipples, quickens my pulse.
“You missed a spot.” Legion’s deep voice is closer this time. Softer. Is that desire I detect in his tone? A wall of heat envelopes my front. My breath hitches. I open my eyes and find his dark eyes hooded behind those brass rims. He’s not dancing, just soaking me up like the sun on a cold day. Only Legion could stand where everyone else dances and command attention with his presence, his beauty.
He gathers my long hair to one side, then trails a finger down the side of my exposed neck. “Here,” he tells Bodin softly. “Clean up your mess.”
Hot lips land on the skin beneath my ear. I gasp as a shiver runs through me. Legion’s gaze collides with mine, holding me captive as he traces another sticky rivulet down my neck, over the mounds of my cleavage, to the dip in the middle and taps. “And here.”
Bodin twirls me to face him and pushes me back. Legion tugs me hard against his body, trapping me with a strong arm beneath my breasts, lifting them like an offering to Bodin’s lips. The low-cut V-neck collar is not built for such actions. The pillows of flesh almost burst from their confines. My sensitive nipples drag precariously close to the edge of the fabric.
Bodin swallows my gasp, kissing me hungrily.
“No,” Legion growls. He grips Bodin’s knot of braids and forcibly guides his mouth back down to my decolletage. “Lick every last drop of your mess.”
“How do you know it’s mine?” he chuckles, dragging a raspy tongue over my cleavage.
“I saw you.” A breathy, rough confession. “I stayed back and waited, watching you.”
Bodin groans and shoves me harder against Legion. Every swirling, open-mouthed swipe of his tongue feels like he devours me. He inches closer to my aching nipple. My world centers on that point. Please. Yes, there. Lower. With a moan, I arch into him, wanting to guide that friction. Bodin nips me. My hitched breath makes him look up at me with smug, male eyes.
“I said lick, not nip,” Legion scolds, his breath tickling my ear.
“She likes it.” Bodin nips me again, and I moan. “See?”
Hypnotic music swirls like his tongue. Hands, warm and large, sliding around my hips to my belly.
“Bite her lower.” Legion’s quiet demand is hot on my jaw as he cranes for a look over my shoulder. “Through the dress.”
His long hair falls forward, tickling my exposed skin, adding to the overwhelming sensations. Through the dress, Bodin takes my nipple between his teeth and gently clamps down until pleasure floods me. I cry out. He suckles until his saliva dampens the dress. A breeze washes in and cools the spot, adding to the sensations threatening to overwhelm me.
“More,” I beg. Whimper. Try to guide Legion’s hand where I need it. Lower. Through the slit of my dress. “Please.”
“No.” He tugs his hand away from me, voice cold, “I refuse to touch you this way.”
A confusing swirl of arousal and anger swamps me. They crowd me between their bodies. Legion’s reticence doesn’t makesense. My heart sinks. He’s tensed every time I touch him. Now this. All I can think is that he’s rejecting me, even when he directs Bodin’s lips to my neck and adds, “But I will not leave you wanting.”
I might have walked away to protect my feelings, but Bodin’s tongue swirling on my sensitive breast is insistent, hungry. I fall back into that place of need, spiraling fast into hot desire, forgetting about the cold body behind me.
To anyone else, it might look like we’re slow dancing, my head thrown back against Legion’s shoulder, Bodin’s face buried in my neck. Their shoulders meet on my exposed side. The pole obscures most of my left. So no one sees the hand snaking up my thigh, burrowing beneath the split in the dress. It’s Bodin’s hand, but Legion is there too, covering his, directing him—they move in tandem to tug aside my soaked panties.
I gasp at the first swipe along my folds.
