Page 15 of Deathless
Santos knew exactly what I meant and hurried out of his clothes. Once he was naked and finding the perfect spot on the wide mattress, I turned to Torr.
“Undress me,” he said quietly.
The command was unquestionable despite the low volume of his voice. I stepped closer to him and pushed his jacket off of his broad shoulders, the creak of worn leather the loudest sound in the room. He lifted his arms and I gripped his T-shirt at his waist, my breath hitching at the slow reveal of muscle as the fabric rose higher, like a stage curtain drawing up at the start of a production.
This would be one hell of a show, alright.
I took a moment to drink Torr in, letting my eyes feast on all the swells and dips of his torso. The shadows in the low light made every muscle more pronounced.
“Do you want to sit down?” I asked demurely. “So I can get those boots off for you.”
Torr ambled over to an armchair, dropping into the seat like it was his birthright, a king on his throne. His forearms came to the armrests, long legs splayed out carelessly. He asked for nothing, but I dropped to my knees at his boots. If he told me to crawl over to him, I would have.
My submissive instincts weren’t as strong as Santos’, but in this context, I loved to serve Torr.
I’d gotten both boots off when he reached down to stroke my cheek. “Good girl,” he purred. I barely had time to melt under his praise when he added, “Now take care of this belt for me.”
Scooting closer, I found myself between his heavily muscled thighs as I pulled apart his belt buckle. The clink of metal was followed by the soft hiss of leather as I pulled it through the belt loops. After dropping it to the floor, my hands rested on histhighs, fighting the urge to cup the thick bulge already pressing at his fly. But Torr was in a mood to give commands, so I waited.
“Santos,” he said over my head. “Scoot a little further down, will you? Thanks, that’s good.”
Before I could react, Torr gripped the short hair at the nape of my neck in his fist, hauling me upward as he stood from the chair. I hissed at the sting, but relished in the sharp sensation all the same.
“Go on over and sit on your other man’s face for a bit. With your eyes closed.” Torr released me and with the same hand, flicked open the button on his jeans.
“I’m still dressed,” I pointed out.
“Then fix that,” Torr growled, yanking down his zipper.
“You don’t want me to touch you?” I pouted a little, watching his hand dip into his jeans.
“You will,” he promised. “But not yet.”
Fine. If he wanted to tease, two could play at that game. I would take all my clothes off as slowly as humanly possible. We didn’t have music on, so I closed my eyes and swayed to the beat of a song in my head as I peeled off each piece.
I never considered myself an exhibitionist, but the temperature of that room and the buzzing anticipation in my body skyrocketed as I stripped for my two men. I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to ruin the illusion and become self-conscious. Even as I hummed softly to myself, I heard their ragged breaths and the rhythmic whisper of skin-on-skin as they stroked themselves.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Santos’ voice floated over from my right the moment I stepped out of my panties. “Please sit on my face, paloma. I need to taste you.”
Just for the hell of it, I kept my eyes closed and navigated my way to him by sound and touch. He gently directed me tothe right place, and when he kissed the lips between my legs, my body rocked with sweet relief and aching need.
I couldn’t feel anything in front of me, no headboard or wall, so I planted my hands on the bed above Santos’ head, but that was short-lived.
“Stay upright,” Torr barked from somewhere else in the room.
My groan was both out of frustration and pleasure with Santos lapping at me, but I straightened as instructed, using my legs to hold myself up. Ever the sweetheart, Santos helped, supporting my ass with his hands while his tongue dragged long, slow licks over my pussy.
Moments later, I felt pressure on one side of the bed like Torr was climbing on. Then I felt a strip of fabric press against my eyes and wrap around my head.
“Since you’re so committed to the part,” Torr mused as he tied the fabric at the back of my head. The blindfold smelled like him, so it had to be one of his T-shirts.
“Well Iama good girl,” I said in the direction of his voice.
Santos moaned like he was agreeing with me, the sound creating vibrations against my sensitive flesh. I reached behind me, pressing my palms down on his chest so I could grind against his mouth. He was doing that thing where he avoided my clit, and I wasnothaving that.
Still, he sucked on my lips again, teased my entrance with his tongue, but he avoided any direct contact with my clit.
“You know how to make me come, so do it.” I injected hardness into my voice, taking on the dominating persona that he loved. “You live to please me, so fucking please me.”
