Page 96 of Given

Without warning, Varick ended the kiss and turned to me. Quick as lightning, he pulled me into him and kissed me. The connection I’d felt the first time flared back to life.

“You think I’m dangerous?” I’d asked him that night.

“I know it.”

He was right. This was dangerous. We were dangerous together. But I couldn’t stop kissing him. Not when he tasted of Laurent and a rush of something wild and earthy. The spark of recognition I’d felt as I sat on his lap before the fire blazed higher.

Just like that first time, he was the one to break the kiss. But when he pulled back, he was panting, his fangs descended and his eyes glowing like twin suns.

Laurent squeezed my hip. “Both of you get on my fucking bed.” He didn’t wait for compliance. He grabbed my elbow and steered me through his rooms. My skirts swished and Varick’s boots snapped at our heels. It wasn’t a great distance, but I was gasping for air as we reached Laurent’s bedchamber. A fire leapt in the hearth. Candles shuddered as Laurent guided me to the canopied bed. He stopped, pushed his fingers through my hair, and tilted my head back.

“Varick and I will take good care of you, princess. Do you believe me?”

Nearby, Varick removed his boots and began stripping out of his clothes. He watched us, his fingers moving down the buttons of his jacket.

“Given?” Laurent’s voice pulled my attention away from Varick. My husband stroked his thumbs over my cheeks. “You have nothing to fear from either of us.”

“I know.”

He kissed me gently. “Tonight is about pleasure, and yours matters more than anything.” He turned me away from him and tugged the pins from my hair. When the heavy mass cascaded down my back, he pushed it aside and unfastened my dress. He knew female clothing inside and out, and he had me in nothing but my flimsy chemise in under a minute. The sleeveless garment hugged my body and fell only to my knees. It was so thin it revealed almost as much as it concealed. I braced for him to take it, too, but he scooped me up and put me on the bed. He withdrew, and a completely nude Varick took his place.

I couldn’t stifle my gasp. I knew he was big. His size was his most defining feature. But nothing prepared me for his muscular thighs and the thick, meaty shaft that swung against his leg as he climbed over me. My mouth watered at the sight of the plump veins that snaked down his rigid length. My fangs shot lower than they ever had.

His own fangs showed as he sprawled beside me and rested his palm on my stomach. His skin burned mine through the thin layer of my chemise.

“You lied just now,” he rumbled. He rubbed a slow circle over my belly. “When you told Laurent you know you have nothing to fear. You’re afraid of me…and a little bit of him.”

My gaze shot to Laurent, who was pulling his shirt over his head. He pushed his pants down his hips, and his erection sprang free. Nude, he joined us on the bed. He stretched out on my other side and cupped one of my breasts through the chemise.

“Is that so, princess?” He lowered his dark head and sucked my nipple through the chemise. When he pulled away, the material was see-through, my nipple a hard, blushing point. “I think we have to remedy that, don’t we, General?”

Varick responded by bending and giving my other nipple the same treatment. His big hand squeezed my breast, and his hot mouth sucked hard. Unlike Laurent, he teased his tongue around the stiffening peak—and he gave me a sharp nip with one of his fangs before pulling away.

Now, two wet circles marred my chest, and both nipples stood up like dark pink spear points. It was more revealing than wearing nothing at all.

“She’s got beautiful tits,” Varick said.

Laurent made a low sound of agreement. “Wait until you see her pussy.” He smoothed his hand down my body, running his palm over Varick’s before reaching the hem of my chemise. He dragged the gown up to my waist, baring me to Varick’s gaze. But he didn’t stop there. My husband moved a beringed hand to my sex and spread my lips apart with his thumb and forefinger. My engorged clit stood up proudly from its sheath, the small bud shiny with desire.

In that moment, I knew Queen Amantha was right. I was the wicked product of unholy lust. Because Varick’s eyes on me—his golden, glowing gaze fixed on my most private place—lit a fire that roared through my veins. The fact that my husband showed me off this way, sharing me with his best friend and lover like I was a delicacy he wished Varick to sample, made me moan and lift my hips.

“So eager, wife,” Laurent murmured, proving he knew exactly what was happening. He stroked a long finger down my cleft and held it aloft, showing Varick and me the moisture he’d collected. “Do you want Varick to taste you, princess?”

My “yes” was a breathy moan as my face flooded with heat. How was it possible to be both embarrassed and deeply aroused? But the first fueled the second. Undoubtedly, Laurent knew that, too.

He pushed his fingers into Varick’s waiting mouth. Varick’s eyes drifted shut as he sucked my juices.

The same odd mix of pleasure and confusion I’d felt at the table squirmed through me. Varick and I had butted heads from the moment we met. He disliked my relationship with Laurent. Most of the time, it felt like he disliked me. But here he was licking my pussy from Laurent’s fingers, his golden lashes dusting his flushed cheeks. Some depraved part of me thrilled at the sight. Was it possible to hate someone and want them at the same time?

Yes, it most certainly was. And in some cases, the hate drove the want. Twisted it into obsession.

Laurent smirked at me. “I think he likes how you taste, Given. Maybe I should let him help you come. He’s been thinking about it since he fetched you from the Rift. I think he’s waited long enough.” He pulled his fingers from Varick’s mouth. He moved Varick’s hand from my stomach to my pussy. “Two fingers, baby. Small circles. Don’t go too fast.”

It took me a second to realize Laurent addressed Varick—and that he was telling Varick precisely how I liked my clit touched.

Varick dipped his big, callused fingers into my opening and carried moisture to my clit. Then he followed Laurent’s instructions to the letter. He rubbed firm, slow circles, stroking two rough fingers right where I needed them. The soft smacking sounds sent fresh heat rolling through me, and I spread my thighs wantonly.

“Good girl,” Laurent rasped, sliding a hand under my knee and pulling me wider. He used his other hand to drag my chemise to my neck. Cool air caressed my damp nipples and the heated folds between my legs. My breasts trembled as I drew shuddering breaths.

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