“So you like having your pussy licked,” he murmurs. “He better save some of your sweet, sweet honey for me, Princess, because I’ve got every intention of making you come with my tongue in your cunt as well.”
Just like that, I fall over the edge, exploding, pleasure rocking through me with a blast, but Bruno doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even slow down, but he teases at my lips with his fingers, gradually sliding a fingertip inside.
“Please,” I whisper, back arched, my hand still in his hair.
Bruno pushes his finger deeper and strokes something inside me that feels like a lightning bolt charging through my body.
“You want us to fuck you, don’t you?” Dom growls in my ear.
I can only nod, senses too overwhelmed to even talk.
“Good,” he says. “I can’t wait until I’ve got my thick cock inside your tight little pussy and you’re moaning and screaming while I fuck you like you deserve to be fucked. But not tonight.”
I’m back on the edge, my eyes rolling back in my head. Bruno slides a second finger inside me, stroking that spot again, and it’s almost like touching an electric fence.
“Why?” I manage to whisper.
“We promised to start you slow, Princess,” he says.
I come again, my whole body jolting and jerking. I throw my head back and cry out, and Bruno keeps going until I’m completely finished.
Then he pulls his head back, takes his fingers from my pussy, and stands. He kisses me without saying anything, and he tastes like me and it’s dirty and gross but it’s also hot.
Dom’s already off the couch, on his knees, Bruno on one side of me. When he stops the kiss, he takes his fingers, covered in my juices, and puts them in his mouth, licking them off slowly.
Just as he does, Dom strokes my other lips with his fingers. I’m even wetter now, so wet I’m afraid I’m soaking through this couch, but I don’t care. He puts his lips around my clit and sucks on it, making me gasp.
“You’re fucking delicious,” Bruno murmurs, reaching over and taking a nipple in his fingers. “I’ve wanted to taste you since the second we walked into the throne room.”
Dom sucks harder, and I can only stare at Bruno, my mind flickering in and out of thought.
“And you’re so fucking beautiful when you come,” he goes on, pinching my nipples harder until I moan. “I love watching you lose control. Especially when I’ve got my tongue in your pussy and you’re moaning for me like the wicked girl I know you really are.”
“I’m—” I start.
Dom licks me harder and then I come for the third time in a row, biting my lip and throwing my head back.
“That’s my princess,” Bruno says, grinning.
“I can’t come again,” I gasp. Now my whole body is jerking with every stroke of Dom’s tongue, caught somewhere between pain and pleasure. “Dom, I can’t.”
He stops licking me for a moment as he pushes two of his thick fingers into my opening. I gasp as he fills me and curls his fingers inside me.
“Are you sure?” he murmurs.
Dom licks and strokes in rhythm, and within seconds I’m scaling new heights, shouting at the top of my lungs. I think I might be babbling, and I don’t know what I’m saying, but I come hard one last time for both my princes.
Then Dom stops, slowly. He kisses me, just like Bruno did, then licks off his fingers.
It’s so, so sexy, the way he does it, licking them clean while he stares me in the eyes.
“I want you both to fuck me,” I whisper. “Please.”
Together, they pull me back onto the couch so I’m sitting upright. I kiss one, then the other, both tasting like me, and I lose which one I’m kissing. My silk nightgown is around my waist, and their hands are still all over my body, spent as I am.
“Fuck me,” I beg again. “I need you inside me, please.”
They exchange a look.
“Not tonight, Princess,” Bruno says.
My mouth drops open.
“Why?”
“We’re in the library at two in the morning,” Dom says. “When we fuck you, we’re going to fuck you hard and we’re going to fuck you right, Princess.”
“Plus, we promised you we’d be slow and gentle,” Bruno adds.
I glance down at the enormous bulges in their pants.
“I don’t need slow and gentle,” I say. “And I haven’t even touched you.”
“I told you tonight was all about you,” Dom says, pulling my nightgown up, the silk sliding over my nipple. I shiver.
“Make no mistake,” Bruno adds, pulling up the other side. “We’re going to take turns burying our cocks in your until you scream our names. Just not tonight.”
“When?” I whisper.
They both stand, pulling me to my feet. The rest of my nightgown falls into place, around my feet, and Dom hands me my panties.
“Soon,” he says with a smile.
Chapter Eleven
Dominic
“Who the hell are you?” Bruno asks. He’s sitting on a recliner at the end of a hall, waiting for me before he goes downstairs.
I touch the mask covering the top half of my face again, since it’s already slipping off.
“Shut up,” I say.
Bruno just laughs. He really does have a sense of humor, he just rarely lets it out around strangers, preferring to keep his guard up.
It’s the kind of thing that a couple years in the military will teach you.
“You need double-sided tape,” he says, inspecting my mask. “Trust me. My older sister was crazy for masquerade balls, and since she was the only girl, she got everything she wanted. I must have gone to ten between the ages of fourteen and sixteen, and that was despite spending most of my time with you, in boarding school.”
He produces a small roll of tape from his tuxedo pocket.
“Let a pro handle this,” he says, and I hand him my mask. He applies tape judiciously, and a few minutes later, it’s not slipping down any more.
“Thanks,” I say. “I guess you are good for something.”
We head into a spiral stone staircase, our footsteps echoing, and I can tell we’re alone.
That’s good, because I have an idea.
“I’ve had a thought for a friendly competition,” I say casually.
“What’s that?”
“Something to make this ball a little more enjoyable.”
Bruno just looks at me.
“It couldn’t possibly have something to do with the princess, could it?” he asks dryly. “Since she’s just about the only thing that will make this ball bearable at all.”
“You catch on quickly,” I say. “Must be why we’ve stayed friends so long.”
“What’s the competition?” he asks.
We come to a stop on a landing, and I glance up the staircase and then down, just in case someone else is listening. This is very much something that shouldn’t be overhead.
The coast is clear. I tell Bruno my idea for the princess, and I’m not even half finished with my sentence before he’s grinning from ear to ear.
“Done,” he says, holding out one hand.
We shake firmly.
“And may the best man win,” I say, though that’s hardly what’s going to happen.
No matter who comes out ahead in our friendly little competition, the three of us all win.
The ballroom is massive, sumptuous, and gorgeous. The floor-to-ceiling windows look down on the night skyline of Tomassia’s capital city, massive red drapes hanging next to them. There’s a champagne fountain, enormous flower displays, and a string quartet.
Everyone is milling around in half-masks, and Bruno and I move through the crowd, nodding at various people. It’s not as if having some of the skin near your eyes covered actually conceals your identity — it’s just a fun reason to throw a party.
We get drinks. We have to spend some time making small talk and milling around, buttering up our various allies, acting as if we give a shit about trade agreements.
I don’t. These people could get me to agree to literally anything right now, because I’m just listening politely and scanning the crowd for Katarina, lifting my scotch to my lips every so often.
It works, because I catch a glimpse of her first. Bruno’s still looking in the wrong direction, so I make the fastest excuse I can think of, hold up my glass of scotch, and make my escape, heading straight for the princess.
All the same, when I really see her, I stop dead in my tracks.
Am I always going to be surprised at how gorgeous she is?
Because I am, even wearing a lace half-mask. I’m fucking stunned at her, bright hair piled on top of her head, wearing a simple-but-elegant purple gown. It’s not unlike the green dress she wore the first day I saw her, though this one shows off a little more cleavage, and the fabric hugs her curves and ass even tighter.
My mouth goes dry. I nearly drop my scotch.
“Prince Dominic,” she says, holding out one hand.
I take it and bow silently, kissing her knuckles slowly.
“Princess Katarina,” I say. “I’d be honored to have your next dance, Princess,” I say, her hand still in mine. I can be the cultured, charming prince when I need to be.
It doesn’t mean I won’t pull her hair while I spank her perfect, round ass later.
“I think that would be lovely,” she says, and slips her arm into mine. From across the room, Bruno glares, but it’s his fault for not being quick enough to spot her, and I wink. He takes another sip of scotch, his already-serious face darkening.