Page 89 of The Royal's Pet: A MMF Ménage Royal Romance

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Roland says and salutes Oscar. “We’ll take good care of her.”

“I don’t doubt it.” And just like that, he jets off, leaving me in the predators’ den.

I step inside. “Close the doors behind you,” Ben says. His fingers sift through Roland’s long hair, petting. The tall doors clatter when I close them behind me.

The excitement from the day seems to have petered out, and everyone is lazy, like sated animals after a good hunt. Even the canaries hanging in their cage are sleeping, their small beaks tucked into their chests.

“Room for one more?” I motion to the chaise.

“Always,” Roland says and opens his arms.

I snuggle up against Roland. He kisses the top of my head. Suddenly, I understand what Oscar was saying about the stone fountain. Seeing is one thing, but living it, breathing it, smelling it… it’s another thing entirely. I lose myself in the tactile sensations of Roland—the softness of his long hair against my cheek, the hardness of his body underneath his coat, the expansion of his ribs with every precious breath. Ben trades heads and rakes his fingers through my hair instead. My chest clenches with emotion, and I grip the hard leather lapel of Roland’s coat. “What if…” I struggle with the words; my throat feels so tight that my voice is barely a whisper. “What if… I stayed here? Permanently.”

“Queen Rory,” Roland muses. “It has a good ring to it.”

Ben scoffs. “How many queens does it take to rule a monarchy?”

I reach up and smack his thigh. He grunts, but even from this angle, he can’t hide the hint of smile on his lips.

“Maybe not… queen,” I venture. “Doesn’t really sound like me. But something.”

“Royal pet,” Ben states.

“Mmm… royal pet,” I muse. “I like that.”

“Me too,” Roland agrees. He parts my lips with his tongue and tastes me. I open my mouth for him easily, giving him full access. He takes it, cupping my jaw and swiping his tongue over mine, licking every inch of my mouth.

Ben’s fingers tighten in my hair and tug the roots. I gasp as the sensation jolts down the center of my body and pulses between my legs. I try to clench my thighs together, but Roland nudges them apart and fits his knee between my legs. I don’t mean to be this desperate, but the pressure makes me whimper and rut against his thigh.

Roland adjusts on the couch, pushing me underneath him. Now his knee is squarely against my sex, and it’s impossible to hide how badly I need him. I’m sure he can feel the heat from between my legs. He kisses me for a while, working his tongue against mine until I’m a panting wreck.

“Someone could walk in,” I whisper.

“Good,” Roland says. He sits up, unbuttons his heavy coat, and tosses it to the ground, revealing the white cotton shirt underneath. “Give them something to say about this room on the tour. And here, Prince Roland and Ben Tolle licked their royal pet until she screamed…”

I giggle and shiver. The thought alone makes me tingle all over.

I reach up and grab Ben’s leg for something to hold on to. I’m not the only one who likes Roland’s suggestion. I can feel Ben’s erection brush against the back of my hand. I bite my lip. I want it inside of me so badly; my thoughts scatter.

“You heard your prince,” Ben says suddenly. “Take off your trousers.”

I unbutton my pants, draw down the zipper, and shove them down my legs awkwardly. Roland tugs my shoes, socks, and pants off my ankles, discarding them all in a pile on the ground. Now, I’m in nothing but my loose shirt and white panties.

Roland splays my legs and gets comfortable between them. He looks at me, and then a grin slices across his mouth.

“Ben, it seems our kitten has soaked right through her knickers.” Ben slips off the couch to join Roland at my feet. When his fingertips trail my bare legs… it makes me weak. My throat goes dry, and I swallow. “Do you think she wants this?” Roland asks.

“Not nearly enough,” Ben replies.

They launch an assault of kisses on my body then. Each takes a leg and licks and nibbles his way up my bare skin, over my thighs, and to my hips. When Roland gets to my knife scar at my hip, he brushes his lips very softly, lovingly against it. I whimper when they get close to my aching need and push my hips up toward the warmth of their breath, but they only pull out of reach. They’re kissing me everywhere except where I need it the most. I’m so pent up, I dig my fingers into my own hair.

Finally, I feel a pair of hands tug my panties down. I let my legs fall open, lewdly exposed for them. Roland puts two fingers on either side of my pussy, spreading me wide. The cool air hits my slick, wet skin. Again, my hips flex themselves forward, needing something inside, but Ben pins my thighs down, trapping me in place. I’m helpless to their teasing.

“What a beautiful pussy,” Roland says reverently.

“The most beautiful,” Ben agrees.

My sex trembles with desire. I’m sure I’m dripping right onto the velvet-soft fabric of the couch, but I’m beyond caring.

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