Page 63 of Kiss of Frost

Graeme’s gaze dropped to my chest. “Take that shirt off, lass. I want to see your pretty tits bounce when you suck me again.”

Hands shaking, I pulled my shirt over my head and unhooked my bra.

“The leggings, too,” Callum said, “but leave the panties for now.”

A groan tangled in my throat as I obeyed, wriggling out of my tight leggings and tossing them aside. As I resettled on my knees, both men stared at the thatch of fabric between my legs, which was so wet that the outline of my folds was visible. I squirmed under their scrutiny, every brush of cotton against my clit an exquisite kind of torture. Somehow, kneeling at their feet with the press of the sodden fabric against my sex, my arousal on full display, was more scandalous than being fully nude.

Damn Callum. He knew precisely what he was doing when he ordered me to leave my panties on.

He moved closer, and his cock brushed my cheek.

I didn’t hesitate, just turned my head and sucked him into my mouth. His salty, smoky taste exploded on my tongue as I bobbed on his dick.

“Good lass,” he breathed, cupping the back of my head and thrusting gently into my mouth. Precome spurted onto my tongue, and I swallowed it down. My breasts jiggled with my efforts. Graeme’s gaze fastened on my chest, and he groaned loudly and reached for his cock.

On impulse, I released Callum’s dick, turned my head, and wrapped my lips around Graeme.

He cursed in Gaelic and spread his legs wider. The chair creaked rhythmically as I set a steady pace. Callum’s wet, glistening dick bobbed near my cheek, waiting to be serviced again. My core clenched, my pussy clamping repeatedly. After a moment, I pulled off Graeme’s dick and went back to work on Callum’s. More moisture soaked the cotton between my legs. And it was no wonder—because nothing had ever been hotter than this. Naked except for my ruined panties, I took them in turns, sucking and bobbing. Swirling my tongue around their cockheads and licking up and down their shafts. My jaw throbbed. Spit dripped onto my breasts. The men’s moans and shuddered breaths accompanied the fleshy sound of their cocks tunneling in and out of my mouth.

The next time I turned to Callum, he shook his head and hauled me to my feet. “Your turn, lassie,” he said, then brought his mouth down on mine. He gripped my ass and pulled me against him, and I gasped as the hard ridge of his erection ground into my stomach. His kiss was hard and demanding, his tongue hot and possessive. He reached down and cupped my pussy, then thrust his hand down the front of my panties and rubbed his fingers over my clit.

Warm hands closed around my waist, and I gasped into Callum’s mouth as Graeme’s chest pressed against my back and his dick prodded my hip. Now I was sandwiched between them, their muscular bodies crowding me front and back.

Fore and aft, Callum had said when he read my deepest fantasies. Goosebumps lifted on my skin. Suddenly, I was grateful for my extra-long bath in the caldarium—and the fact that Callum and I had eaten almost nothing but sports bars with a high fiber content over the past few days.

My nipples stabbed Callum’s chest. He played with my clit, circling and stroking and driving my need to a fever pitch. I whimpered into his mouth as I teetered on the edge of orgasm. Just before I tipped into ecstasy he broke off the kiss and yanked his hand from my panties.

“No!” I protested, breathless and disoriented. I sagged against Graeme and glared up at Callum. “Why did you stop?”

Callum’s eyes glittered with his power. The outline of his horns flickered in and out of view as he licked my juices from his fingers. “Oh, I’m not stopping, lass. But I don’t think it’s fair to keep this delicious pussy all to myself.” He hooked his thumbs on either side of my panties and drew the fabric down, letting it nestle just below my sex. “And Graeme looks hungry,” he added, swiping his fingers down my slit and offering them to Graeme over my shoulder.

“Starving,” Graeme rumbled, sucking Callum’s fingers into his mouth. My knees loosened, and Graeme looped an arm around my waist, supporting me as he licked Callum’s fingers clean. “More,” he grunted.

Callum obliged him, swiping moisture from my lips and pushing his fingers into Graeme’s mouth. When Graeme finished and demanded yet another taste, Callum stole a helping for himself before fingering my entrance and lifting his fingers to Graeme’s lips once more. I hung limply in Graeme’s grasp, my body threatening to blast apart as they feasted on my arousal.

“It’s not enough,” Graeme growled suddenly. Callum was one step ahead of him, spinning me around and ripping my panties from my body so quickly he left me dizzy. Before I could get my bearings, Graeme went to his knees and buried his face in my sex.

My orgasm burst inside me like a rocket, bowing my spine and tearing a scream from my throat. Callum caught me against him, and I reached both arms up and clung to his neck as Graeme sucked my clit hard. Hot, liquid pleasure rushed through me, and it was so fucking good I never wanted it to end. Sobbing my release, I reached down clumsily and gripped Graeme’s hair. I held his face against my pussy and rolled my hips, chasing the waves.

Graeme growled and shoved one of my legs up so my foot rested on his shoulder. He thrust a finger inside me. Then he pushed his nose and mouth into my sopping pussy and licked me from my entrance to my clit.

I screamed again as one orgasm flowed into another. My pussy clamped hard around Graeme’s finger. My knees buckled, and now Callum’s arm circled my waist. He spoke in my ear, his words neither English nor Gaelic. The guttural language twisted around me, weaving a sinuous path to my pussy and stroking alongside Graeme’s tongue.

“Shit!” I cried, jerking in Callum’s grasp. He cupped one of my breasts with his free hand, and I could tell his eyes were fastened on Graeme as I writhed and bucked. My chest heaved as sensations peaked. Just as I grew too sensitive, Graeme pulled back and stood.

In one swift movement, Callum swept me into his arms and strode to the bed. Graeme was right there, too, ripping the sheets back and helping Callum settle me in the center. Once I was propped on the pillows, Callum turned to Graeme, seized his hips, and pulled Graeme into a searing kiss.

Graeme grunted, then gripped Callum by the nape and turned the kiss up by about a thousand degrees. My jaw dropped, the remnants of my orgasm rising again as I watched them go at each other. Graeme moved his free hand down to squeeze Callum’s ass. Gripping the muscle, Graeme thrust his hips forcefully, grinding his dick all over Callum’s.

My heart pounded in my chest and clit. Unable to help myself, I reached between my legs and stroked. Another orgasm hovered, but I didn’t want to come just yet so I avoided my clit. I slid my fingers up and down my folds, feeling wicked and lush as the sounds of my wetness mingled with the men’s grunts.

Callum pulled his mouth from Graeme’s and gave me a look hot enough to set the bed on fire. “You can touch, witchling, but don’t even think about coming.”

“I won’t,” I breathed, spreading my legs and rubbing in wide circles. He and Graeme watched for a moment, then Callum took their dicks in one of his hands and stroked them together.

“Fuck,” Graeme muttered, looking down at their cocks pressed snugly together in Callum’s fist. Graeme rocked his hips, his muscular ass flexing as his breath hitched and a flush spread over his cheeks. He’d been handsome before. Now, he was unspeakably hot with his shorter hair and his beard hugging his firm jaw.

A possessive thrill shot through me. My mind flashed back to the Great Hall at Castle Beithir, where I’d watched King Cormac with Niall and Isolde and wondered how it would feel to belong to two people. Now I knew it was more than that. I didn’t just belong to Callum and Graeme. They belonged to me, too…and to each other. Life was never going to be boring.

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