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Feeling bedraggled, I slump between both of them, comfortably naked and touched all over. Skin against skin, smooth and soft, pressed together like the pages of a book. Rory never stops kissing my neck. My fingers dig in hard against the bones of Danny’s shoulder blades. The world stops turning, feels calm and serene in a way it hasn’t been for a long time now. When I gaze up at the sky, the strange shimmer is still there, and I know despite myself that I’m definitely not imagining it.
“The rain,” I say softly, my bottom lip brushing Danny’s glowing cheeks. “It’s raining.”
Danny gives me an amused look, as though my orgasm has somehow knocked me off-kilter, that the world and its banal realities will soon catch up with the imaginations in my head. It’s dry, after all. But Rory’s arms tighten around me and he drapes his body over mine as if to shelter me like a coat.
“You know what this means?” I say, still dreamy. “You. Luke. Trying to punish. Trying to prove a point. You can’t.” My English is broken and I feel as light as a daydream. “Because people in love are incapable of hurting the people they love. It’s the ultimate egalitarianism.”
A bemused smile flickers at my nape. Rory gives the shell of my ear a warm, slow lick that makes me shiver with peculiar heat. “Go to Luke,” he murmurs, reaching past my body to grab Danny’s wrist. “Spread more egalitarianism.” He takes Danny’s fingers and draws them close to my lips, and after I suck them in deeply, Rory leans forward and does likewise, supping my juices from an altogether new vessel. Danny’s eyes flash with shock.
“Luke?” I ask dazedly, the tiniest whisper.
“He needs to be healed, little saint,” Rory says, Danny’s fingers popping from his mouth. “You’re the best one here to do that.” He licks another long, firm stripe along Danny’s skin, and Danny’s cock twitches longingly against my cunt.
“Luke just came,” I point out, “while you two…”
In a slow, measured voice, Rory murmurs against my ear, “I want you to ride him.”
Only Rory can make his desires sound like orders. Only Rory can make people satisfy them because they want to.
He leans down, searching through his inner blazer pocket, and hands me a small foil packet.
I step away from Rory and Danny, gliding dreamlike across to Luke. He and Finlay are sitting cross-legged on the ground, though Finlay has offered him the place against the tree stump, and Luke sitting against it makes it manage to resemble the most regal throne. He gives me an inquisitive look as I watch the faint stirrings of his long dark cock, and asks, “Did Rory put you up to this?”
“Yes.” There’s no point in denying it.
“You don’t have to do what he says,” Luke murmurs, sounding tired. I wonder if he’s having regrets over his treatment of Finlay, who watches me, transfixed, from Luke’s other side.
“He only says things I want to do,” I respond, and lower myself onto Luke’s lap to prove it.
His arms encircle me automatically. Our faces brush together. I decide I like this position, both of us upright, his cock long and lazy between us, because it requires no bending and ducking for our lips to meet. Here, we’re true equals.
I tilt my head to the side, watching Finlay closely. Lips brush my left cheek. Luke murmurs into my ear, “I have beenbadtonight. I don’t wish to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” I state simply, deep down knowing my hypothesis is true — hecan’thurt me. He couldn’t hurt Finlay, after all, not when his spectacular mouth had been gorging on his cock.
Luke thinks himself worse than he is. He will never be anything other than a prince.
Finlay’s watching the two of us, still transfixed, as though we were some private show put on just for him. His cock points skyward like a monument. Hungrily, he palms it as I grind myself into Luke. Beneath me, and despite having come only minutes beforehand, Luke’s cock begins to stretch beneath me like a plant seeking light. Luke’s arms hold me steady, and he breathes me in deeply.
“God, the scent of you,” Luke whispers, lust-drunk, and his mouth pounces on mine.
