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“Oh fuck,” I curse, about to cover my eyes but my wrist jerks in Akara’s hold. He keeps my arm pinned, and I drink in the way he has me. The way they have me so completely in their care. Being able to open myself and give myself to people I trust is more freeing than I ever realized.
I feel like I’m flying.
Like I’m powerful. In-fucking-vincible. Able to transcend time and place and reason.
Akara shifts his own hand off my thigh.
I have trouble trying to see Banks’ reaction and Akara’s. I try to watch both guys at once. My breath hitches as Akara moves his hand up to my pussy. They’re not both going inside me, are they? And then I feel his thumb circle my throbbing clit.
I moan.
Akara curses under his breath.
Banks picks up speed. My legs begin to tremble and sweat builds on my skin. Their kisses return—Akara focuses on my nipples, teasing and sucking. Banks closes his lips on the soft flesh of my neck, then up to my lips. Every sensitive bud, sensitive spot feels lit by these two men.
I’ve never drowned before today.
I’m drowning in them. By them. With them.
A whimper leaves me, and their groans rumble the air. Instinctively, I rock against Banks’ hand while he fills me. Thrusting into him and Akara. I want more pressure. I want my world to be set on fire. I want to forget everything that happened before this tent. I want there to be nothing but after this moment.
Reaching down with my only free hand, I touch the top of Akara’s hand. I touch Banks’ wrist, his fingers lost inside me. They both quicken speed suddenly like they’re racing each other.
“Fuckfuck,” I cry, so wet, almost there, almost there.
Pleasure mounts until my limbs quake, and my whole body tenses in a thundering climax. Toes curl and back arches even higher. I grip onto Banks’ wrist while Akara’s grip tightens on mine. An orgasm ripples through me, and they both slow their movements until I’m too sensitive to touch.
I try and catch my breath.
Banks kisses my lips in one beat.
Akara kisses my shoulder, then cheek in the next. “I’ll be back.” He releases my wrist, and I grab onto the first thing I can to stop him—which happens to be his hand between my thighs. His fingers brush against my palm, and they’re slick with my wetness.
Our eyes latch. “Don’t go,” I breathe.
Banks has a hand on my thigh still and he pats it. “We’ve got to take care of some things, mermaid.”
“I can take care of you both,” I say in a frown. “Don’t you want me to?”
“This was for you,” Akara refutes.
Banks nods more than once.
Maybe it’s a pride thing. They want to be sure this wasn’t all about their needs but solely about pleasing me. And I get that, but the sun has been down for a while. It’s freezing outside now. “You both can get off here, can’t you? Don’t run off into the cold. Please.”
Akara lets out a breath and sinks back down beside me. I don’t let go of his wrist. “You sure?” he asks.
“Fucking positive, Kits.” I glance to Banks. “You too.”
“Turn on your side,” Banks instructs and helps me roll onto my side. Back turned to Banks. Chest towards Akara. All of us lie underneath the sleeping bags, so I can’t see their movements. But I can feel them shift as they tug themselves.
Not seeing Banks stirs me even more. It feels forbidden, only kept safe in my imagination. I know he’s there jerking off, but I can’t even look at his face while he’s doing it. His building heat warms me beneath the sleeping bag.
I glance to Akara and then he does something unexpected.
He covers my eyes with his palm.
Can’t see him either.
Only hear their heavy breaths. Their grunts.
Feel the shifting of the sleeping bag.
I reach down and start touching myself. We’re all pleasure in this tent.
We’re all alive.
Breath. And body. And life.
26
SULLIVAN MEADOWS
“You need stitches,” Farrow doesn’t even hesitate with the diagnosis once he removes Akara’s bandages with gloved hands and sees the damage to his shoulder blade and elbow. “You should’ve called me last night.”
Tattooed and pierced, Farrow Redford Keene Hale is usually casual and cool, unruffled by little, except when Moffy is hurt. His severity now is a knife to my heart.
Maximoff turns his head from Akara to me. His concern pummels me for the second time. The first was when Banks, Akara, and I showed up at the RV campgrounds carrying all our gear while covered in bandages and scratches. Clearly banged up, we couldn’t hide the cougar attack.
I’m just thankful Kits was here to explain everything.
He’s good at giving facts from an event and nothing more. No emotion to the story. I’d probably have fucked that up and rattled my cousins even more. Instead, the retelling might as well have been a security debriefing.
