Both of them notice my hesitation and stop what they are doing. Nolan’s hands shift back to my shoulders, and Donovan moves my legs under his arms and sits up on his elbows.
“We don’t have to do any of this,” Donovan states firmly, his gaze fierce as he assesses my expression. “If you’re not ready, don’t let us push you.”
“This is about making you feel good,” Nolan adds, petting me gently like I’m a spooked animal. “We can cuddle. That should be enough for the strain from the bite.”
“It’s not that,” I mutter, my arms flopping to my sides.
“Then what is it?” Nolan murmurs, one hand going back to finger combing my hair. It feels good, but I’m too flustered to fully appreciate it.
Embarrassment flushes my skin when I quietly admit, “It’s just that… well, it seems unfair that I’m not… I like everything you’re doing, but I don’t know if I can…”
“Callie.” Donovan says my name in the way he does when he urgently wants me to get to the point.
“I’m too nervous to do it back,” I confess, folding my arms over my chest and looking anywhere but at Donovan’s face. “It’s one thing when I’m sitting in your lap, you’re wearing pants, and I feel it… er, that way. But it’s different if I’m actually touching or using my mouth, uh, directly?”
“What you’re saying is you’re not ready to do hand jobs or blowjobs yet,” Donovan supplies bluntly, his eyebrows furrowed as he tries to translate my babbling.
“Yes.” I sigh, feeling both stupid and like a prude.
“Love, you don’t have to do any of that if you don’t want to,” Nolan insists, kissing my cheek.
“But isn’t that unfair to both of you?” I counter, grabbing onto the sleeve of the shirt and rubbing the fabric between my fingers. “Me wanting you to do all that stuff to me when I’m not ready to reciprocate?”
A suggestive smirk creeps along Donovan’s lips. “So youdowant me to taste you.”
“Oh no you fucking don’t,” Nolan argues before I can respond. “I’ve been fantasizing about doing it for months. If anyone is going down on her, it’s me.” He clears his throat while twisting his neck to look at me. “Assuming that’s okay with you?”
Sitting up, I look over my shoulder at him in surprise. “You’ve fantasized about it formonths? As in, way before we started actually dating?”
He shrugs. “I told you. Wanting you was never the problem.”
“What else have you—” I start, curious about the depths and explicit nature of what he’s imagined doing with me.
“Don’t answer that,” Donovan interrupts, moving back into a kneeling position. His knees are splayed wide, so there is a clear outline of his erection. “Angel, just imagine the worst and we’re several levels below that.”
“Oh?” I murmur, my voice a lot huskier than it was moments before.
Nolan leans forward, all feline grace as he presses against me and cups the side of my face. With his lips millimeters from mine, he whispers, “I want to touch and taste every part of you.”
“Okay,” I exhale, drunk on his nearness and musky scent.
He smiles. “D told me that you were interested in joining us. Does that mean you’re okay with him and me touching ourselves and each other?”
My mind conjures the night back in Arizona when I saw Nolan straddling Donovan’s lap in bed, their hands roaming each other’s bodies. The excitement I felt then ricochets through me now.
“Yeah,” I wheeze. “That’s fine.”
“You must be feeling better if you’re up for all that.” Donovan chuckles, glancing at Nolan and moving so he can lie next to us. Under all of his suggestive bravado, there’s a hint of genuine relief.
“Let me show how much,” Nolan responds, but he’s still looking at me.
As if he can’t hold back anymore, he kisses me deeply. I can taste his exhilaration and guilt, the bittersweetness of stealing a kiss he wasn’t sure he’d ever get again. It’s a kiss that shatters a person and then glues the pieces back together with their own life blood. Tears drip down my face because I can’t hold it all in. This fusing of bodies and hearts and souls. Especially with Nolan. The boy who swore never to love again.
When we break for air, I’m panting and sniffling, my hand resting on his chest, elated with the feeling of his thundering heartbeat. He is mine, and I am his.
“Great, you broke her,” Donovan grumbles good-naturedly, turning my head so he can wipe the tears from my cheeks with his thumb.
Brimming with love that I want to share, I pounce on Donovan, rolling over until I’m lying half on top of him, our chests pressed together. I kiss him with wild abandon, my hands roaming over his body in a frenzied desire to know him as much by touch as sight.Mine. They are both mine.My magic, gleeful in my joy, brushes against the part of myself that I left within Donovan, and he gasps from the stark intensity. His kiss deepens while he shifts us to our sides, exploring the inner recesses of my mouth with expert care.
