Page 33 of The Royal's Pet: A MMF Ménage Royal Romance

The words leave him in a flurry, as though he’s been waiting all day to let them out. Perhaps he has a point. I did ignore him all day, and now that we’re in trouble, all sins are pardoned. I only find myself reaching for him when I need him, like a boy who refuses to be weaned off a comfort blanket.

“You’re right,” I tell him and flash him a cheeky grin. “C’mon, mate. Let’s kiss and make up.”

Ben turns away from me at that. The shadows in the room darken his expression, but I can hear his bitter growl. He’s not amused.

I roll my eyes. “Fine, kiss Rory, then.” I motion to her. My sweet, scrumptious, sacrificial lamb. “I know you want her.”

Who wouldn’t want her? Those lips are plump enough to break even in the dark. When her eyes meet mine, they go wide. But she can’t hide the way her thighs squeeze together, just so. My kitten wants to be licked.

“This is hardly the time,” Ben grumbles.

“What the hell else are we going to do?” I lift a hand and drop it on the mattress. “C’mon, Ben…”

20

Rory

Have a taste of my girl.”

My heart is pounding. I shouldn’t like being on display like this, sold to the highest bidder. But I do. I’d give it to either of these hunks for free, but they have a grudge, an axe to bury, and I wouldn’t mind if they buried it in me.

Ben stalks over and stops in front of me. I’m magnetized, my blood thrumming. He takes the knot on my robe in his hand, but then his arm goes still.

Those dark eyes meet mine. “Rory.” It’s a word—just my name—but the way he says it, the questioning look in his expression, I know what this is. He’s asking me for permission. He won’t take me without my consent… prince’s orders or not.

My heart flutters and I wet my lips. “Please,” I beg. My throat is dry with lust, and my voice cracks. “I want it.”

The knot comes undone and the ribbon slithers off my waist. My robe parts freely at the middle now. I’m exposed, but I don’t try to cover myself. Especially not when Ben is looking at me like that, taking me in with those deep pools.

“Well?” Roland says impatiently. “What do you think?”

As though he’s taught his pet a new trick. Sit. Stay. Spread your legs.

Ben’s eyes find mine. “She’s beautiful.”

I bite my lip. He unpins my pink flesh from my teeth with his thumb and kisses me. I part for him immediately, both my lips and my legs.

Ben peels back and lowers himself to his knees in front of me. My pussy throbs in response. He’s trained me like Pavlov’s dog. I remember just how well he can use his tongue.

Sure enough, when he rolls my panties from my thighs and presses his tongue flat against my sex, I swear I see heaven. I whimper and arch into his mouth as he licks me. The rough facial hair on his jaw prickles my thighs. His hands brace on my knees, holding them apart.

Roland finds a place behind me. He slips the robe off my arms, and his lips trail wet kisses down my neck and shoulders. I’m trapped between two beautiful, dominating men, hungry to spoil me with their mouths and hands and everything. Last time, I got scared and shoved them off. This time, I melt into their touches and sigh, savoring every second.

Too soon, Ben lifts his head from between my legs. He wipes his arm across his mouth, but even that doesn’t catch all of my arousal. Some of it glistens off his scruff, and I swallow hard. Holy hell. I’m sopping wet.

In one swift movement, Ben rips off his blazer and the white shirt underneath it. “Flip over,” he tells me.

Gone is the awkward bodyguard from the ball. The man who looked uncomfortable in his own skin. Here, in charge, Ben is in his element.

I do as he says and roll over. My movements are sluggish and clumsy, my legs like rubber underneath me. I get on my hands and knees on the bed.

I’m practically in Roland’s lap now. He cups my face and sifts his fingers through my hair. His eyes scrutinize me. “Are you okay, love?” he asks, checking in.

I let out a small noise, half a laugh, half a whimper. “More than okay,” I purr.

He grins. “Good.” I feel Ben stall behind me. Those strong, calloused hands grip my hips and then cup over my round ass. “Our pet has a nice bum, doesn’t she?” Roland says, looking over my shoulder.

“Yes, sir,” Ben responds.

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