Slowly, she pressed closer, seeking more.
More warmth. More contact. Morethem.
Kaelen’s voice was rough with sleep. “Sáel. You keep moving like that, and we’re going to have a problem.”
Heat scalded her cheeks, but she didn’t stop. Slowly, deliberately, she undulated between them, savouring the solid heat of their bodies seeping through the layers of fabric, the way they held her without hesitation.
Alarik’s large calloused hand covered hers, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Do you need us?” He turned his nose into her hair, inhaling. “You don’t smell of Heat, but?—”
“This has nothing to do with Heat,” she whispered. “And everything to do with what I . . . want.”
Kaelen exhaled slowly behind her, his lips ghosting along the curve of her neck. “Then tell us, love.” His voice was low, coaxing. “What do you want?”
Her heart pounded, but she didn’t shrink from it. Not this time.
“I want more,” she admitted, barely above a whisper. She turned slightly in Alarik’s hold, lifting her gaze to meet his. “I want to feel you both.”
His golden eyes darkened, flickering like an ember about to catch flame. He glanced at Kaelen over her shoulder, unspoken wordspassing between them. Then, gently, he cupped her face, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek.
“Say the words.”
Her tongue swiped her bottom lip. “Touch me.”
She barely had time to exhale before Kaelen’s lips brushed her nape, a lingering, open-mouthed kiss. His breath was warm against her skin, fingers splaying over her hip. She shivered. Not from fear or hesitation, but from the slow, aching anticipation.
She turned to press a kiss above Alarik’s heart. His pulse leapt beneath her lips, and she felt the sharp exhale he released, his hand clasping her waist.
Kaelen’s hand smoothed over her hip and thigh, the tip of his tongue tracing down her neck.
“Reiya,” he murmured, the syllables rough and reverent all at once. She answered by pressing back against him, her body arching into the warmth of his chest, the hardness she felt behind her.
A low curse escaped him as his hand gripped her hip, anchoring her against him.
Alarik shifted, turning his face into her hair, breathing her in. One of his hands slid to cup her jaw, his thumb tracing along her cheekbone. Slowly, she reached up, her hand tangling in his dark hair, pulling him closer. He exhaled harshly, as if something inside him had finally snapped, and then his lips were on hers.
She melted into the kiss, her body sinking further against him. He kissed as he did everything else—thoroughly, without hesitation. His mouth moved over hers, coaxing, parting her lips with his tongue. Teasing, tasting.
Behind her, Kaelen made a quiet growl of approval. His teeth grazed the pulse on her neck. “Are you going to share her, brother, or do I have to steal her?”
Alarik pulled away just enough to huff a soft laugh against her lips. “Don’t be impatient.”
Kaelen nipped her shoulder. “You can hardly blame me. She’s intoxicating.”
His hand skimmed beneath the hem of her skirt, palm smoothingover her leg upward from shin to thigh. The breath she released was shaky, and he caught it with a slow, teasing kiss just below her ear.
“I love hearing your little sounds,princess,” Kaelen murmured, his tongue teasing a spot beneath her jaw. “Do you have any idea what they do to us?”
The brazier’s embers cast a flickering glow, warm light playing over their tangled limbs. The heat in the tent had nothing to do with the fire—not when Kaelen traced lazy circles over the sensitive skin above her knee, palm rough yet careful. He didn’t hurry, teasing her with the drag of his fingers along her inner thigh, moving higher with aching deliberation. Her pulse pounded, anticipation coiling in her stomach.
Alarik’s fingers slipped beneath the folds of her wrap top, easing the fabric layers aside. Cool air prickled against her skin, but his warmth chased it away as he cupped her breast for the first time.
A soft, unbidden sound left her lips. His grip firmed, kneading her gently, as though gauging every reaction she gave him.
His touch was different from Kaelen’s—not teasing, not beckoning her to chase him. He moved with quiet certainty, fingers mapping her with slow, deliberate intent. His thumb flicked over her nipple, sending a sharp spark of pleasure straight to her core.
She arched into his touch, a small moan slipping free.
Alarik’s gaze found hers; his pupils dark and wide, hunger banked behind quiet restraint. He squeezed, rolling the sensitive peak between calloused fingertips, the slightest hint of pain stuttering her breath.
