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Danny reaches up Finlay’s chest, a tentative exploration. Without breaking their kiss, he undoes Finlay’s tie and individually pops the line of buttons running down his shirt. Finlay sighs in relief against Danny’s mouth and tilts his head back, allowing access to his neck.
They’re so absorbed in each other, neither notices Rory sliding closer to me. Finlay shrugs his shirt from his body, tossing it aside like a rag before grabbing hold of Danny’s face. Finlay lies back in the tall grass, his top half naked and bare and carved in the moonlight.
“They’re thinking about you, little saint. You know they are. So why don’t you give them something worth dwelling on?”
I swallow. They’re thinking about me… My fingers drift to my waistband again, and this time they dive under. They delve beneath the elastic of my tights and the band of my underwear. As I watch Danny and Finlay fuck each other’s mouths, I slip my hand inside. It feels wrong, subversive, but…
I touch my clit. My lashes flutter in pleasure.
“That’s it,” Rory breathes. “Good girl.”
Everything burns.
He’s watching me. How can he be watching me when I can’t tear my eyes from the two chiefs kissing in front of us? It’s impossible. They’re a vision, all rough and playful in ways none of the others are when they’re together. Their mouths feast on each other, teeth nipping lips, drawing blood, licking it away. Danny’s hand tightens in Finlay’s hair as if testing the limits of his unearthed cruelty, his other palm flat on Finlay’s naked chest, pinning him to the ground.
Finlay’s fingers trip over each other trying to undo Danny’s shirt. The two sides finally flap open, bottom corners grazing the soft ticklish dips of Finlay’s hips, and Finlay jerks away with a small, dark laugh. His eyes land on me, and the laughter dies on his swollen wet lips. He tugs urgently at Danny’s shirt sleeve, indicating me with a nod of his head, and Danny, panting, gazes across at me.
My legs are spread open. My hand makes shapes beneath my tights. It’s obvious to anyone what I’m doing, as I slowly stroke myself into a sweet, heady bliss, the air punctuated with pants and moans that aren’t just theirs, but mine, too.
“Fuck,” Finlay whispers, breathless, and he hooks his arm around Danny’s neck again. “She’s gettin’ aff tae us.” His fingers tease at the neat base of Danny’s hair. “We’ll huvtae make the show a good yin, aye?” He flashes me a coy grin, and then, with renewed enthusiasm, surges upward to meet Danny’s mouth.
Teeth and tongue collide again, messy and dark and heavy with want. They focus on each other, but at the same time, there’s the occasional flash of a curious glance, the tilt of a head in my direction. Shows within shows, I think to myself, as the thrill of performance overtakes us.
I warm beneath their attention but it’s Rory’s singular focus that really fans the flames. It’s been so long since I’ve done this in front of others, and Rory’s silver gaze is making it difficult to concentrate. My fingers seek out my pleasure points, teasing my silk wet folds, caressing my tight bead. In the warm balm of the island, everything feels perfect, serene. The classical music on the radio is a whisper of sound, weaving lush melodies, strings soaring in time with my heart, the air rhythmic with male groans and my high-pitched thready moans.
“Can’t just be me,” I eventually manage through lips that have been bitten to keep my desperate sounds under control. “Not fair. You. You need to come, too.”
For my ears only, Rory murmurs, “I don’t need to touch myself for that to occur, little saint.” He casually places his forearms on top of his knees as he watches me fall to ruins. I choke back a soft noise of disbelief because somehow his words are some of the hottest I’ve heard.
Finlay gazes up at Danny with an expression that’s entirely too wanton. “I want ye tae come,” he murmurs, backing me up with a glance in Rory’s direction. His fingers reach up to tease Danny’s nipple, and Danny wriggles above him as if debating whether to receive more sensation or pull away. His hips undulate at Finlay’s touch as though wanting nothing else but to thrust deeper, harder. Danny’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he bites down on his swollen lower lip. “Face it. We huvnae been together for a month. We’re a’ gonnae come in three minutes flat.”
“W-we are?” Danny pants, suddenly looking nervous at the idea. Finlay leans up, capturing his mouth in another scorching kiss that soothes Danny. His hand slides down Danny’s side and over to his belt buckle, tugging it open with a practiced flourish, so quick and covert that Danny whimpers in shock, his lower half instantly exposed.
“Aye,” Finlay says with a smirk, as his fingers curl around the phenomenal bulge covered by Danny’s canary-yellow boxers. Danny groans weakly at the touch, shifting as though trying to hide his arousal. But Danny only grows more and more aroused from Finlay’s touches, his prodigious cock impossible to hide. Finlay shoots a triumphant smile, stroking the throbbing bulge harder and Danny moans softly, a sound so submissive and vulnerable and at odds with the beast building between his thighs. “We’re a’ gonnae come awfy quick indeed, and as much as Rory’s busy pretendin’ otherwise, he’s included in this an’ a’.”
He has a point. Already, I feel out of it, submitting to the jolts of pleasure that spark between my fingertips. Touching myself like this is a conversation between my hands and my body, and it’s so rare that I get to whisper like this in front of the others when usually they’re the ones claiming me for themselves.
“She’s gettin’ aff tae us,” Finlay mutters again, after another quick glance at me. To Danny, he adds, “Put mair welly intae it.”
Danny’s brows lower, and he pauses above Finlay. “I submit to you that ‘welly’ isn’t the sexiest word…”
“Ye know whit isnae sexy?” Finlay snaps, tugging urgently at Danny’s hair, “Havin’ daft arguments like this durin’ sex. Noo come up here, D-boy, and kiss me hard.”
Danny doesn’t need to be told twice. His lips land on Finlay in a molten rush, a scorching trail across Finlay’s panting mouth. Danny devours him — and my stomach clenches at the sight, at the rare confidence in Danny’s touches. He knows what he’s doing. He doesn’t use his kisses for pain or punishment. I know intimately that his mouth is an area for pleasure, designed to spread love and kindness. And Finlay — the more Danny kisses him, sets him alight with that generous mouth, the more I notice the ground shift and split beneath him, as he falls deeper and deeper into a kind of love with everything that Danny represents.
Pleasure zips up my spine. My knees fall to the side in a wide-open diamond. Rory’s eyes feast on me intently, and he hasn’t moved, he hasn’t moved a single hair, as he continues to focus on my imminent release, still ignoring the show playing out in front of us.
When Finlay’s hand travels down Danny’s chest and slips into those bright yellow boxers, Danny’s hips stutter in mid-air. It takes effort to keep his body up, a safe distance from Finlay. His biceps quake as he gazes down at Finlay, ruined and ruinous. It seems he barely has the strength to hold himself upright as pleasure roils through him from Finlay’s insistent fingers.
Finlay’s eyes flash dangerously, bright green and darkening, and I know what that means. I know there’s a devil inside, slowly obliterating my scheming slice of sunshine.
When Finlay grabs hold of Danny’s cock in a merciless grasp, Danny’s hips buck and jerk as pleasure cascades through him. The air sings with magic — not the peculiar magic of the island that Rory is privy to, but the magic that grows between bodies on the brink of surrender. It’s a riot of noise, so loud and sincere that I almost see its many shades and colors.
I speed up my own touches, watching as Danny manages to balance himself. He braces his hips against Finlay as Finlay’s fist pumps diligently at his leaking cock. He balances, shaky, on one arm, sweat shimmering down his hairline, as his fingers pluck at Finlay’s waistband, dragging his kilt off him with an irritable tug. Finlay does most of the work, pulling it down himself, and yanking off his briefs for good measure. The two of them are completely naked now, cocks bobbing against each other.
Danny blows out a trembling breath, trying to calm himself down. Finlay only jerks his cock harder, as if to challenge.
In the moonlight, I watch the glint and flex of lean, squeezing muscles and wonder dazedly if there’s nothing more perfect and secluded than male beauty.
