Page 90 of The Royal's Pet: A MMF Ménage Royal Romance

Suddenly, Ben climbs to his hands and knees over me. He replaces his hands on my thighs, holding them down, and drops his head between my legs. I feel his long tongue twist slowly around my sensitive nub. His stubble grazes my inner thighs. I gasp. I want to jerk up toward his mouth, but he’s keeping me in place. Instead, I suffer deliciously through the excruciatingly slow circles he paints around my exposed clit.

I barely have time to ease into Ben’s ministrations before Roland’s head lays on my thigh. A second tongue laps between my legs, teasing my folds and tracing my slit.

“Oh God,” I whisper. “Oh my God, oh my God… that feels good… so, so good…”

I’m babbling. I’ve always felt lucky enough to have one mouth between my legs, but two? Nothing can compare to the way these two talented alpha men work their tongues over my slippery sex. They lavish me in affection, their tongues crossing, bumping, working me. The two flexible muscles find my clit and flick the small nub back and forth like they’re playing tennis with it. I nearly hit the ceiling. I shout with sensory overload, and my legs begin to shake hard. I’m going to cum. I’m on the screaming edge. And then…

They stop. I nearly cry out and beg for more, until I hear it. Sloppy kisses. They’re making out over my pussy. My blood feels like lighter fuel, and that sucking sound paired with Ben’s soft moan sets me on fire.

“I don’t know what I like more,” Roland muses. “Eating our pet’s cunt or tasting her on your lips.”

“Fuck,” Ben groans. His cock clearly refuses to be contained, and I see him shift as he unbuttons his pants to give the swollen monster a little breathing room.

“How are you holding up, kitten?” Roland asks.

“More,” I beg. “Please, sir. I need it.”

“Good girl,” Ben breathes. They dip between my legs again. They work in perfect tandem now, and I can’t keep track of who goes where. One tongue presses inside of me, greedily lapping at my want, while the other goes to town on my sensitive button.

My climax hits me hard. I cry out loudly. My legs tremble and quake, my body writhing as best it can under Ben’s strong grip. I’m clenching, throbbing around one tongue as the other beats against my bundle of nerves mercilessly. Even after my pulses start to ebb, he continues sucking my poor clit until another orgasm breaks free. It feels so good, my eyes water, and I repeat both their names, over and over, in a lustful babble.

Two tongues. Two orgasms. One satisfied and shaky Rory.

They lick me clean before pulling back. Ben falls ungracefully off the couch, and Roland sits back.

“Good?” Roland asks.

I’m buzzing and I twirl my fingers through my hair in a daze. “The best,” I respond.

“Good.” Roland climbs over me and kisses me hard. I taste myself on his mouth, salty sex lips. His erection presses against my hip, and I moan.

“I want to be inside of you,” Roland murmurs heatedly.

My pussy clenches painfully. I gasp and let out a breath of a laugh. “I don’t know if I can…” I reach between us block my sex with my hand. “I’m waaaay too sensitive now.”

“Poor pussy,” Roland coos and kisses my lips. “But I wasn’t talking to you anyway.”

Roland’s hand trails off the couch and twists in Ben’s hair, giving it a tug. Ben and Roland lock eyes. In that insane, unspoken way of theirs, they make a decision.

“I’ll need lube,” Ben says, with all the practicality of a den mother.

Are they going to—?

Oh. Yes. Oh my God, yes. And I get to be a part of it.

“I have some!” I pipe up, and when they shoot me a weird look, I shrug a shoulder. “My bag is full of… useful items.”

“Fetch, kitten,” Roland says.

Which sounds like something you’d say to a dog, not a cat, but I’m also too aroused to point out technicalities.

I have to squirm to get out from under Roland. I don’t realize until I stand up how incredibly slippery I am between my legs. I feel so messy that I half walk, half hop over to my backpack. Everything is disorganized inside, nothing folded, all items shoved as tightly together as possible, and it takes a moment of hunting to find what I’m looking for.

Eventually, I pull out a small tube of lubricant and a sheet of condoms. I carry them back to my boys. They’ve mostly disrobed, down to their briefs, and they’re making out on the couch. I don’t want to interrupt; there’s part of me that could just stay here, watching. They’re horizontal, Roland on top, and they’ve locked lips and grind their hips together. Roland must be doing something incredible with his tongue, because it makes Ben groan audibly and he shudders underneath the other man, pelvis twitching upward.

God. It makes my mouth water to watch these two gorgeous, strong alpha men turn shaky and desperate under each other’s touches. There’s love in the way they look at each other, touch each other, and kiss each other. As though their very fingers are saying I’ve got you, I trust you, I’m not letting you go.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, kitten,” Ben says when he catches sight of me and extends a hand.

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