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“Less talking, more rubbing,” Riddick grumbles, then groans when I squeeze the warm flesh under my hands. “Yeah,” he croaks. “Like that.”
Seeing him writhe in pleasure lights up my blood. Brylee’s hands tangle with mine as we rub his lower back, his ass, the top of his strong thighs. A scent of musk floats in the air, and I’m not sure which one of us is more aroused.
Grabbing the tube, I cover my hands in more oily gel and press my fingers down, along the crevice of his ass. He groans into his folded arms, lifting his ass up in invitation.
I glance at Brylee, wondering if this is too fast too soon for her, but she’s breathing hard, her gaze glued to where my fingers are stroking over Riddick’s asshole.
“Oh my,” she whispers. “This is hot. I’ve watched videos.”
I blink. “Videos?”
“On YouTube. I wanted…” The movement of her hands slows. “Wanted to see how that works. Between two guys. Oh God…”
“Did you enjoy watching?” Riddick rumbles. “Did you touch yourself while you were at it, Princess?”
She bites her lip, her face scarlet. “Yeah.”
“Oh fuck, girl…” Now all I can see in my mind’s eye is her with her hand between her legs as I fuck Riddick’s ass.
Riddick groans, shifting again on the cushion. “What did you watch? What were the guys doing?”
“And was there a girl involved, too?” I drop a hand to my aching dick, and smear gel all over my pants.
Dammit.
“They were…kissing and holding each other’s…members.” She bites her lip.
Riddick twists to look at her, and grimaces. “Their dicks, Cupcake. Say it, or we’ll spend this weekend drinking tea and discussing the weather.”
This strikes me as too funny, seeing how he’s spread here, under our gel-smeared hands, bare-assed and obviously too damn hard.
“Their dicks,” Brylee says.
Riddick and I groan in unison. What is it with her, that even this word coming from her mouth sounds so damn filthy?
“Say, ‘cock,’” I prompt her, and my hand is still on my crotch, gel and all. I don’t fucking care.
“Cock,” she whispers, looking away.
“Say, fuck,” Riddick says hoarsely, and my dick jumps under my palm.
She lifts her gaze to him. “Fuck,” she breathes, and Riddick moans.
“Say it again,” he commands. “Say, Fuck me…”
Her turn to moan. She sits back on her heels, and her tits rise and fall rapidly. “Rid…”
Riddick does a push-up, then rolls on his side, his face twisting. “Jesus.”
Through the haze of desire, I feel a stab of worry and reach out to help him. “What do you need?”
“I need… both of you to fucking undress,” he says unsteadily. “I need to touch you, dammit. Taste you, feel you. Fuck, it’s too much.”
“Oh God, yeah,” Brylee breathes, and I reach for her.
Because this is what I need, too.
***
