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Pulling my lip between my teeth, I crawled across the couch toward Mason. His eyes flickered with surprise, like he hadn’t expected me to pick him first, but he reached for me, helping me onto his lap.
When I was straddling him, I looked down, heart slamming in my chest as I took in his aristocratic brows, strong features, and enigmatic green eyes.
In the secret, private part of my mind where thoughts existed that I’d never tell anyone else, I could admit I’d fantasized about kissing each of these guys.
And now I had a dare to hide behind, an excuse I might never get again.
I wasn’t going to fucking waste it.
Taking charge, I reached up and ran my hands down the sides of his face, cupping it in my palms. I held him in place while I dipped my head, pressing my lips to his. He smelled like cedar and spice, and his mouth tasted like tequila, just like mine. I kissed him long and slow and deep, exploring his mouth with my tongue like I owned it, like I had every right to be doing this.
Like he was mine.
We kissed for a while, and for a long time, he left his hands at his sides. But finally, he seemed to lose some battle with himself, and they moved to my low back, tracing the curve of my spine as he kissed me harder.
I almost lost track of the dare, of the point of all this. It was only the low grunt from Cole that drew me back to my senses.
He was the farthest away from me on the couch, but when I broke away from Mason, he made another sound, like he might come over there and rip me away from his friend, throw me over his shoulder, and drag me back to his cave.
But he didn’t fucking own me. And he was the one who’d dared me to kiss all of them.
So he could wait his damn turn.
I climbed off Mason’s lap, feeling slick wetness gathering in my core, and moved toward Elijah next.
He looked almost… concerned as I approached him, like he wasn’t sure this was a good idea at all.
But it was. It really was. I wasn’t sure anyone had ever had a better idea in all their life.
So to reassure him, I pressed little closed-mouth kisses along his shoulders and neck, flicking my tongue out every once in a while to taste his skin.
His breath picked up, and without warning, he grabbed my head, hauling me up to kiss him on the mouth, moving his lips against mine like he wanted to devour me. It was messy and wild, so unlike his usual put together, polished demeanor that it took me by surprise.
But I liked it. I liked seeing him fray at the edges like this, knowing I’d been the one to make him unravel.
I drew away reluctantly, but any unhappiness I had about ending the kiss was eased by the sight of Finn waiting for me on the next sofa cushion. He’d slouched so far back he was almost horizontal, and I had to drape my body over his to reach his lips.
He was… hard.
I could feel his dick through his shorts, pressing into my stomach, and I moved lightly against him as we kissed, testing his reaction. His arm wrapped around me, a steel band around my waist holding me perfectly still, and he tore his mouth away from mine for a second, gasping.
“Fucking Christ.”
Wriggling against his hold, I tried to move again, but he just added his first arm to the second.
“Hold still, Legs, or I’m not gonna make it.”
“Please?” I murmured, not quite sure what I was even asking for, but knowing I wanted that delicious friction back. “Please, I want…”
“Oh, I know.” His hips ground against me as he gave in for a moment, but then he lowered his lips to mine once more, whispering into my mouth. “But not this time.”
Then he kissed me again, and it was like tasting sunshine. Bright and sweet and so overwhelming it almost burned me.
I heard another sound from Cole, deeper and more threatening, and Finn laughed against my lips. He finally helped me sit up, and I was barely upright again before new hands were on me. Cole stood over us, and he hefted me into his arms like I weighed nothing, palming my ass as I instinctively wrapped my legs around him. I thought he might sit down again, but he seemed perfectly happy where we were.
His tongue swept across the seam of my mouth, demanding entry, and I opened for him, allowing him to taste the tequila—and the three other Princes—on my lips. Low, hungry noises emanated from his throat, and my clit throbbed in time with my hammering heart as I pressed myself flush against him. My fingernails traced the back of his neck, running through his hair, and he made a sound halfway between a purr and a growl.
I didn’t want to stop—wasn’t even sure I could—but after a few minutes, he tipped his head back, stealing his lips from me.
