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That was what she was waiting to hear. Wanting to savor tonight, she unlaced his boots and slipped them off. When she tossed them on the floor, they made quite a lot of noise.
“I hope no one is below us.”
Rider patted her butt. “Just hurry.”
Paris spun around. “Do you want me to hurry when I’m attending to you?”
He held up a hand. “No. Please continue at your excruciatingly slow pace.”
“I’ll help,” Grayson said. In one quick tug, he took off his slacks and briefs.
She understood why he needed to undress. His cock was rigid and was probably pressing uncomfortably against his pants. “Sit up.”
He did, but then leaned back on his elbows. While she was trying to move quickly, it was hard to undo all those shirt buttons. The cuffs were the most difficult part.
Eventually, she opened his shirt and then ran her hands down his chest. “I think your scar is shrinking.”
“The more loving I get, the faster it will disappear.”
Rider grunted. “That is a myth that werewolves like to perpetuate, since we are often injured.”
Myth or not, Grayson’s injury was going away. Paris dragged his sleeves down his arms, but could only go so far. “A little help?”
He sat up and finished the job. Grayson tossed his shirt with the rest of the clothes onto the floor. “Let the loving begin.”
Grayson pulled her on top of him and kissed her with desire and need.
“Don't forgot, I'm the one enjoying her sweet pussy tonight,” Rider said.
For the last few weeks, the men had taken her every which way.
"I promise that I have not forgotten." Without saying another word, Grayson rolled her over. “Take care of Rider while I get you prepared.”
She smiled, understanding fully what tonight would bring. Grayson slipped off the bed, opened the side table drawer, and pulled out what appeared to be a tube of French lube, though she had no idea when he'd purchased it.
“Don’t pay attention to what Grayson is doing,” Rider said. “Come here.”
He dropped onto his back, dragged her on top, and then rolled them over. The kiss that followed was clearly to prove they belonged together. The rough scratch of his stubble seemed to be more prevalent with each second.
It was Paris this time who opened her mouth to invite him in, and Rider immediately delved into the wet heat of her mouth, sending rapture all along her spine.
“Did you guys forget me?” Grayson said.
Paris broke the kiss and choked out a laugh. “Sorry. I thought you were retrieving something.”
“I was, but how long does it take to open a drawer?”
Rider rolled them over once more. “Now, where were we?” he asked.
“I think you were kissing me.”
“I was.” Rider clasped her face and drew her lips to his.
Just as they touched, Grayson slid his hands between them and cupped her breasts. Having two men attend to her body was nirvana.
“How about sitting up?” Grayson asked her.
It was only fair that he get in some touches, too, but apparently Rider didn’t see it that way. He swatted Grayson’s hands to the side, partially sat up, and then dragged his tongue across one nipple, inflaming her body.
