Page 54 of American Prince (New Camelot Trilogy 2)
It breaks my heart.
“Kiss me,” Ash says quietly. “Please.”
Hesitating for only a second, Embry leans in and brushes his lips against Ash’s, an electric shudder running through his body as their mouths touch. Ash sighs, those long eyelashes resting on his cheeks, a hand leaving my hip to wrap around Embry’s waist and pull him tight against his side. Then with some reluctance, he pulls away and gives me a rueful smile. “We’re ignoring our princess.”
“It’s hard to feel ignored when you’re inside me,” I say with an answering smile.
“Nevertheless, if you’re still smiling, we have work to do,” he growls, mostly playfully, although something dark lingers in his words. I remember why we’re doing this—what we both wanted out of the scene—and I know Ash won’t stop until he gets it.
He whispers something into Embry’s ear, and Embry nods, shooting me a mischievous look and scooting back a bit to give Ash room to help me up to my hands and knees. Still buried deep in me, he wraps an arm around my stomach and turns us over, so that he’s lying on his back with me on top of him. My back is to his chest, and he reaches around me to make sure that my head is settled comfortably and my hair is brushed out of my face. And then Embry crawls between us and I know what’s going to happen next.
“I don’t know if I can,” I breathe.
“You will,” Ash says into my ear. He finds my ankles with his feet and opens me, completely exposing my wet cunt to Embry, who’s now kneeling between our legs, his chest heaving with excitement. “You will and you’ll like it.”
He has one hand flat on my belly and the other wrapped around my throat, forcing my pelvis down and my head back over his shoulder, making my body into one long, taut arch, both holes easily accessible for my men.
“Shit, that’s hot,” Embry says, taking it all in, running fingertips along the wet petals now opened up for him, around the tender place where Ash and I are joined.
“It’s yours to fuck,” Ash says, sounding for all the world like a gracious host, like a king distributing a reward. “Yours to enjoy.”
Embry settles over us, one hand at the base of his cock and the other planted by Ash’s head. “Can I come inside her?”
I squirm in abject lust at the way they talk around me, at the way Embry asks permission of Ash but not of me; the sheer humiliation of it is almost as potent as their bodies in stirring me to climax.
“Would you like that?”
“God, yes,” Embry groans.
“Do it,” Ash orders, and Embry finally guides the huge head of his cock to my entrance, which is so wet now that I can hear the sound of him moving against me. But as he pushes inside, there’s an immediate difference from our earlier fucking, and I suck in a deep breath.
“I’ll go slow,” Embry promises. “I know it’s tight.” His voice breaks on the last word, as if even the thought of it is too much to handle, and from the way Ash’s chest moves with fast, shallow breaths beneath me, I’m guessing he feels the same.
He keeps his word, easing in, although with one thick cock already inside me, I wouldn’t exactly use the word ease for the entry of another. Rather, it’s more a slow invasion; for all that I’m wet, it’s forceful and not a little unkind, and with every cruel inch, the real Embry seems to disappear and the shadow Embry takes over. The Embry that thrives in chaos and violence, the Embry so consumed with his need that he can barely see anyone else around him.
He’s halfway in, driving waves of knifing pleasure up through my belly and into my chest. I can feel the sweat gathering under Ash’s hand on my neck, cool and damp on my forehead, misting the bare skin of my stomach. “I don’t know if I can,” I pant again.
Ash’s teeth capture my earlobe. “You’re going to,” he says in his Sir-voice. “Take it. Take all of him.”
Embry pushes in farther and I cry out, half deep pain, half rapture, and Ash’s chest rumbles with pleasure beneath me, every movement of Embry’s compressing and massaging him. And then Embry’s all the way in, looking down at me with lost eyes. I look up at him with my own lost eyes, pleading.
For mercy maybe, or for cruelty. I don’t even know what.
Embry gives an experimental thrust, and I cry out again, the pleasure-pain like hot iron in the pit of my stomach. “I’m sorry,” he manages to say through gritted teeth. “I’m so fucking sorry, but Jesus Christ, that’s so fucking tight, it’s so good—” Another thrust, and he gives a low, closed-eyes groan and I know I can expect no mercy from him. It feels too good, it’s too tight and hot and wet, too dirty.
“How are you, princess?” Ash checks in, as Embry pulls out and shoves into my tiny channel once again.
Words are beginning to slip from my mind, thoughts. Memories, intentions—I can’t even remember why I’m here
now, how I ended up pinned like a butterfly between my husband and my lover. “Full,” is the only word I can summon to mind. “I feel full.”
“Full of whom?” Ash asks. The hand he kept on my stomach is now sliding to my clit, massaging it expertly.
“My Sir,” I say. “And my Embry.”
“Our Embry,” Ash corrects me, and Embry’s head drops down, as if he doesn’t want us to see what Ash’s words do to him.
I slide one hand behind me to rest under Ash’s neck, and then I reach up to cradle the back of Embry’s neck in my other hand. I pull Embry down for a kiss, and he obliges me with a groan, still forcing himself in and out of my cunt. His mouth is warm and sweet, eager and no longer gentle, and then Ash’s hand leaves my throat to fist Embry’s hair and yank him down for a kiss of his own until I impatiently pull Embry back to me. Soon, the two of us are engaged in a heaving, writhing battle for Embry’s mouth, all panting chests and rolling hips and muffled moans. Embry kisses Ash, then kisses me, then Ash kisses me, then the three of us find ourselves in a joined kiss, a breathless, teasing exercise. I begin to forget whose lips are whose, which tongue is which, which cock is taking its pleasure in my ass and which cock is taking its pleasure in my cunt.
