Page 42 of Dalla's Royal Guards
“I think we’ll like every kind of speed with you,” he answered softly. “So why not let us tease you for a while?” He caught a wad of the moss that Musad had scraped from the far edge of the pool, tilted his head back, and slowly rubbed the moss down the side of his throat.
She bit her lip at the sight, then turned to glare at Musad who was grinning as he rubbed the moss across his chest. The gleam in his eyes was intoxicating.
A delicious warmth swept through her body that had nothing to do with the warm water circulating around her. A wicked smile of delight curved her lips.
“Follow me then,” she ordered Nasser, and then she moved to Musad and wrapped her fingers around his, taking the moss from him. You missed a spot,jameela.”
Her smile grew when Musad caught his breath and Nasser groaned behind her.
Dalla’s fingers skimmed over Musad’s skin, trailing the soft moss along the defined ridges of his chest. He tensed beneath her touch, his breath hitching as she lingered over his heart.
“I can feel it,” she whispered, her eyes lifting to his. “Your heart… racing.”
Musad’s lips curved into a lopsided smile. “That’s because you’re touching me,jameela.”
Dalla’s laughter was soft, breathy—stirring something primal in both men. Nasser moved in closer behind her, his hands sliding over her waist as he lowered his head, his breath hot against the curve of her neck.
“You’re not the only one affected,” Nasser murmured, pressing a slow, reverent kiss to her damp skin.
Dalla trembled, caught between the heat of Nasser’s mouth and the intensity of Musad’s gaze. She turned her head, meeting Nasser’s lips halfway. Their kiss was slow, exploratory, a contrast to their previous kiss, and Musad’s presence in front of her was so strong it was almost a caress. She felt full of molten fire, and her need was more urgent by the second, even as she yielded to Nasser controlling the pace.
Musad growled low in his throat. “My turn.”
Nasser released her mouth, and Dalla turned her head, gasping when Musad closed the distance, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss that stole her breath. Where Nasser’s kiss was tender, Musad’s was demanding—filled with the raw edge of a man who’d been holding back for far too long.
Their bodies pressed together, water sluicing between them, adding a slickness that made her shiver. Nasser’s lips traced the line of her shoulder, his hands stroking down her arms, possessive but careful—as if she might vanish like a dream.
“You feel… real,” Nasser whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “So real.”
“I am,” she whispered back, turning just enough to thread her hand through his wet hair and draw him in for another kiss. She tasted him—earthy, male, and hers. She felt the shift in Musad as he lifted her against him, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.
“Tell us to stop,” Musad rasped, his lips brushing over her jaw, “and we will.”
Dalla met his gaze, fierce and unyielding. “Don’t stop. Not now. Not ever. Andhurry.”
And with those words, restraint shattered.
Nasser pressed against her back, his hands trailing up to her breasts as Musad lifted her until she settled over his throbbing shaft. She moaned, and her heart pounded as he nudged her soft lips apart and began to press deeper.
“Musad, Nasser,” she breathed, her eyes widening as Musad slowly filled her.
Behind her, she could feel Nasser’s arousal. His fingers pinched her taut nipples until she thought she would scream. She would have—if Musad hadn’t claimed her lips while driving his hips upward, sealing their connection.
A shudder ran through her when Nasser bent forward and sucked on her neck as he rocked his shaft between her firm buttocks. Images of both brothers claiming her at once swirled through her mind. The thought of being possessed so completely drew a moan from her, and she dropped her hand down to feel behind her.
Nasser hissed, his eyes widening when her hand wrapped around him and she guided him closer. Musad, realizing whatshe was doing, rose slightly, cupped each of her buttocks in his hands and spread her.
She gazed into Musad’s glittering eyes. Possessiveness flared in his gaze—blended with something deeper. She leaned into him, pulling Nasser closer over her back while she spread her legs further.
“I want you. I want you both,” she murmured, her voice brushing over Musad’s heated flesh. The words tasted of freedom and joy and anticipation.
Dalla’s breath caught at the sharp bite of pain as Nasser pressed forward. She breathed through it, her body trembling, forcing herself to relax as they worshipped her—together.
They moved slowly, learning her, touching her in ways that made her feel cherished, revered. The water lapped around them, the sound mingling with their quiet groans and whispered words. Touch became their language. Every kiss and caress, a whispered vow. Their passionate words filled the air, breaking through centuries of loneliness that she hadn’t fully known she still carried.
Musad’s lips found the curve of her breast while Nasser’s mouth traced a burning path down her throat. Their hands explored, mapping every inch of her body as if committing her to memory. Dalla arched between them, caught in the delicious pull of two lovers who saw her—truly saw her—not as a ghost of the past, but as their future.
“Mine,” Musad growled, fierce and raw against her skin, his body claiming hers with every slow, powerful thrust. A sharp thrill rushed through her at the declaration.
