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There was a knock at the door, and I waved Flynn off, slipping on the robe I’d worn the night before as I padded over to the front door. The smell of fresh baked bread permeated the air as I swung the door open, and I inhaled deeply, my eyes slipping closed and the smile spreading across my face. “Oh my God, that smells divine. Thank you.”
There was a beat of silence, and my smile slipped, wariness crawling over my skin at his stare. But he snapped out of it quickly when he saw my discomfort. The man cleared his throat and pasted on a charming smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
Truthfully, he looked like he’d seen a ghost. His eyes were wide and his smile strained. But with steady hands, he handed over the basket of food he was carrying and spoke in a melodic accent that sounded like French with a twist. “Bonjour, madam. It is my pleasure. I have freshly baked bread, milk, and fruit picked this morning.”
I lifted the lid on the basket, and my stomach rumbled again. Laughing, I added, “I am going to go and eat all of this right now.”
He nodded and stepped back with a smile, and I began to close the door, stopping only when he opened his mouth to speak again. “Madam, what is your name?”
It was my turn to hesitate, neon warning lights flashing in my brain. My stomach knotted, and I stuttered out, “Queen.”
A warm hand on my waist startled me, and I would have dropped the basket if not for Tristan reaching for it.
“You’re very beautiful.” He flicked his gaze to Tristan and smiled politely.
“Can you go and take this into the kitchen, kitten?” Tristan asked, handing me the basket once more. I nodded, shooting him a small smile. I hated that I’d been uncertain for even a moment, my normal bravado escaping me. But every woman experienced that fear—the momentary uncertainty at how dangerous a man was—at least once in her lifetime. I was no exception.
Tristan had asked me to take the basket into the kitchen, but I didn’t want to abandon him either. If he needed me, I’d be there. I watched Tris through the glass as he stepped toward the man, the murmur of conversation too low to make out the words spoken between them.
Barely a moment later, Tristan returned inside, closing and locking the door before he came to me.
“What was that about?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
“Nothing.” He shook his head, waving off my concern. “I was asking where the closest petrol station was so I could get some gum.”
I blinked, not knowing whether to believe him. Had he just lied to me? I opened my mouth, then snapped it closed again, unsure of what to do.
“It’s all good, kitten.” He held out his hand for the basket, and I passed it to him, then he continued smoothly, asking, “Why don’t you go and wake Ry, and I’ll make your tea for you while Flynn whips up breakfast?”
I nodded, trying to shake off the imbalance from my conversation with Tristan and the wariness our visitor had caused. Climbing into bed with Ry to wake him up sounded like the perfect distraction.
“Go,” he encouraged with a warm smile that crinkled his eyes and made me want to lick him. “Call out if you need any help waking him up,” he added, his grin turning wicked.
“Why don’t you pop that milk into the fridge and get Flynn to hold off starting the eggs,” I suggested, slipping off the robe and adding a swish to my hips as I walked away from him. “Ry’s always a handful.”
Ry was on his back, the white sheet low on his hips, a distinct tenting happening at his groin. His dark hair was tussled, his stubble thicker after not having shaved for a week or two. I loved him like this, at peace and completely relaxed. I tugged the sheet down gently, exposing him, and crawled up the bed between his legs. I rubbed my face against his thigh, nuzzling his sac as I breathed him in. His scent, that natural musk, had my mouth watering. I did it again, inhaling deeply and keeping whatever part of him I could inside me.
I licked the seam that ran up the centre of his sac to the base of his cock, and Ry’s breath caught. He moaned.
Looking up, I met his hooded gaze, his eyes barely open slits. The heat in them singed me in the best possible way, making my cunt tighten and my nipples peak. He reached down, tangling his fingers in my hair, and widened his legs. I licked his crown, closing my lips around his bulbous head, and sucked before popping off him to lick him like a lollipop.
“Don’t stop,” he rasped, the combination of sleep and desire making his voice gravelly. I returned to his cockhead, sucking it back down and taking him to the back of my throat. I wrapped my index finger and thumb around the base of his cock, jacking him as I sucked him deeper. He squirmed, gripping the sheets with his free hand.
His muscles strained as footsteps sounded behind us.
“Now that is a beautiful sight,” Tristan hummed.
“On the bed, Tris. I need to taste you,” Flynn ordered in his no-nonsense tone. Their eyes lingered, their stares warming me from the inside, ramping my desire up. Fuck, I loved being watched. I loved knowing how much they wanted me, how they wanted to take me apart, owning every part of me and giving me themselves in turn.
A shiver passed through me, want and need coiling in my belly as my cunt tightened. I rubbed my legs together, needing to ease the ache. Ezra’s hands on my arse held me in place, stopping my movement, his touch both gentle and firm at the same time. I huffed in frustration, my mouth still filled with Ry’s length. I wanted him, needed him to touch me.
Thank fuck Ezra wasn’t in the mood for teasing. He pressed a kiss to the back of my thigh, laving his tongue over my leg toward my core. I inhaled sharply when he spread me open and his mouth met my cunt lips, licking and kissing me. I moaned, the vibration setting off a chain reaction of deep grunts and groans.
I looked up at Ry, and my heart melted at the sight before me. He and Tristan were kissing slowly, their tongues tangling as Ry searched for Tristan’s hand, interlacing their fingers when he found it.
Flynn reached over and brushed a piece of my hair off my face and pushing it behind my ear. “Want to be able to watch you too,” he murmured before taking Tristan deep into his mouth.
The tightening started slowly, that throb low in my belly building with every swipe of Ezra’s tongue and teeth. I closed my eyes, my lids fluttering as he delved deeper, fucking me with his tongue. My breath caught and my thighs quaked as I soared higher. Ezra read my body like an open book, stepping up his movements. He gave sharper bites, twists of his fingers, and faster flicks of his tongue on my clit as I cried out.
