Buttons popped under Dom’s hands, my shirt coming open inch by inch, their mouths working lower as more skin was revealed. My breath came ragged, chest arching into every touch, every scrape of stubble, every drag of tongue and teeth. Dom’s palm smoothed over my stomach, sliding the fabric of my shirt aside, exposing skin to the cool air, to Viktor’s greedy mouth as he licked down my throat, biting every inch.
Their hands worked in tandem, peeling my shirt from my shoulders, baring me further, never rushing, savoring the process of undressing me. My skin prickled under their attention, every nerve on fire. Viktor’s teeth found my nipple, tugging, flicking with his tongue, making my back arch, a sound torn from my throat. Domnipped at my ribs, hands working at the button of my trousers, tugging the zipper down, fingers brushing the line of my underwear.
My hips jerked up, desperate, helpless. The rough fabric of my trousers dragged over my cock as they pulled them down, leaving me shivering, burning, desperate, laid out in nothing but a thin stretch of underwear already wet from where I leaked for them.
Viktor pressed his face into the bend of my hip, inhaling deep, a groan rumbling in his chest. Dom’s nose nuzzled at the waistband, mouthing the line, his breath hot, humid, every exhale making my cock jump beneath the fabric. Their hands mapped my thighs, fingers digging in, squeezing, leaving bruises that made me want to beg for more.
“Smell that?” Dom murmured, voice dark with hunger, lips pressed right above my cock. “He’s fucking dripping for us.”
Viktor’s hand ran up my inner thigh, stopping just short of where I needed it most, thumb rubbing circles into the skin, teasing, denying. “Always so greedy,” Viktor muttered, nuzzling the place where my hip met my groin, inhaling me like I was the first meal after a famine. “Can smell you from here, prince. Bet you taste even better.”
My cock strained against the cotton, leaking a wet spot that grew with every filthy word, every touch. Dom’s tongue traced the outline of my cock through the fabric, lips closing over the head, sucking just enough to make my eyes roll back, the pressure almost enough, almost unbearable.
Fingers hooked under the waistband, tugging it down just far enough to expose the base, then letting it snap back, trapping me, teasing me. Their mouths worked in tandem, kissing and biting every inch of exposed flesh, licking up the trails of sweat and precome, worshipping every line of my body.
Dom’s palm pressed down, cupping my cock through my underwear, squeezing, rolling his wrist, his thumb dragging over the damp spot, spreading slick through the cotton. Viktor’s hand joined his, fingers tracing the veins, both of them admiring the way I pulsed under their touch.
A sharp slap landed over the bulge, sending a bolt of pleasure-painup my spine, cock jumping, the sound obscene in the quiet room. Dom grinned up at me, dark eyes wild. “Getting hard for us? Or just loving being our plaything?”
My hips bucked up, searching for friction, for anything. “Please,” I gasped, the word wrecked, desperate.
Viktor’s lips found my ear, tongue tracing the shell, breath hot and filthy. “Such a mess for us already. Haven’t even touched you properly and you’re leaking everywhere.”
Another slap, harder, right across the head of my cock, the sting making me whimper, cock throbbing, soaking my underwear. My back arched, thighs shaking, hands fisting the sheets above my head.
Dom nuzzled the wet spot, tongue lapping up the slick, humming his approval. “Taste so fucking good through the fabric. Can’t wait to see you spill for us. You want that? Want to come in your underwear while we use you?”
My answer was a sob, hips grinding into his mouth, Viktor’s hand holding me down, pinning my wrists, his teeth dragging along my collarbone. Sweat pooled in the hollow of my throat, the room spinning with need, the smell of sex thick between us.
Viktor slid his hand down, squeezing my cock over Dom’s, both of them working me in tandem, slapping and stroking, pushing me to the edge, not letting me fall. “Not yet,” Viktor warned, voice a whip, a promise. “You don’t come until we say. You just lie there and take it.”
Their mouths returned to worship, tongues tracing lines down my chest, over my stomach, lips pressing to the inside of my thighs, over every bruise, every mark. Dom’s teeth grazed the crease where thigh met groin, biting down until I gasped, Viktor’s tongue following, licking away the sting, soothing, owning every reaction.
My cock throbbed, underwear soaked, every nerve raw and desperate. Their hands never stopped—slapping, teasing, worshipping, every touch a reminder of their control, my surrender.
The air was thick with need, sweat, and the heady, dizzying scent of arousal. I was helpless under their mouths and hands, desperate to be stripped further, to be taken apart and put back together by the two men who made me feel both hunted and saved.
Desperation took over, hunger curling in my belly, wild and bright. My hands trembled as they slid into Viktor’s hair, tugging him up, meeting his mouth in a filthy, open-mouthed kiss. I licked into him, tasting the salt of my own skin, the bite of his possession, his tongue greedy, claiming, refusing to yield.
Dom rose with me, lips dragging up the inside of my thigh, teeth nipping a path to my hip as I reached for his shirt. My fingers worked the buttons, slow, shaky, wanting to savor the reveal, wanting to undress him like a gift I’d been waiting my whole life to unwrap.
Viktor’s hand tangled in my hair, pulling me back to face him. His eyes burned with hunger, the kind that made my knees weak. He tilted my chin up, breath hot on my lips, then let spit pool in his mouth and drip onto my tongue, deliberate and filthy. My cock pulsed, underwear tightening, the taste of him anchoring me right there, right then—helpless, owned, hungry for more.
“Swallow it,” Viktor commanded, voice rough as gravel. “Let Dom see.”
I obeyed, throat working, never breaking eye contact. Dom’s eyes darkened, and he leaned in, mouth hovering above mine. His spit met Viktor’s on my tongue, his hand cupping my jaw as he smeared his thumb across my cheek.
“Pretty fucking thing,” Dom whispered, his lips ghosting over mine before he spat, his taste mingling with Viktor’s, the mixture making me dizzy, ruined. “You like that, don’t you? Filthy prince.”
“Yours,” I gasped, voice a wreck, tongue flicking over my lips, desperate for more.
Their hands guided me, rough and insistent, pulling me upright, making me kneel on the bed between them. Viktor loomed over me, shirt open, chest heaving, the planes of his torso mapped in shadow and candlelight. I reached for his belt, fingers clumsy with want, unbuckling the leather, unzipping his trousers, peeling them down his hips inch by inch. The muscles in his abdomen fluttered as I ran my palm down, feeling him shiver at my touch.
His cock strained against his briefs, a thick line pressed tight and hungry, the head already wet, the fabric marked with proof of hisneed. I mouthed at him through the cotton, dragging my teeth over the length, tasting the heat and salt of him, the promise of more. Viktor’s hand fisted in my hair, pushing my face closer, holding me there.
Dom moved behind me, shirt shrugged off broad shoulders, body warm against my back. His arms wrapped around my waist, hands splaying low, stroking over the hard muscle of my stomach, up to my chest, fingers pinching my nipples, twisting, pulling sharp sounds from my lips. He kissed my shoulder, tongue pressing to my skin, teeth grazing, the threat of a bite always present, never delivered.
I turned, needing him just as badly. My hands found Dom’s waistband, unbuttoning, unzipping, dragging his trousers down slow, exposing the thick curve of his cock trapped in black briefs. My mouth watered at the sight, and I pressed my face to his thigh, nuzzling into the heat, dragging my lips up the length of him, biting down until he growled, hands tightening in my hair.
