Her legs and other arm were wrapped around Paul, but she took Dima’s mouth. Everything soft and apologetic. Her tongue slipped over his lips until he opened for her. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Dima mine.”
He pulled back. Dark tension still wound up the back of his neck where her fingers were equally taut. Her words weren’t exactly the same as an apology for holding him responsible for her injury, but they were better than nothing.
The rapid conclusion all this drove home was how much he relied on having her in his life. Everything had tipped. In his mind, they were no longer just partners. He needed more, while she seemed content with keeping things the way they were—or recklessly courting novelty. What if he couldn’t give her either, when he’d willingly given her everything for so long?
He stroked her hair, smoothing back the pale feathery strands. “Yours, eh? How would you take me if you could, little one?”
A softly wicked quirk took her glossy lips. “Any way I could get you.”
“And you?” Dima turned to Paul, who he’d certainly not forgotten. Vibrant blue eyes were compassionate and watchful at the same time.
Paul quickly pushed those heavier emotions away. His grin came out to play. “That’s a loaded question.”
“I don’t mean it to be.” He scrubbed a hand over Paul’s short, crisp hair. “Tell me what you wish this morning.”
Red washed across the tops of Paul’s cheeks, and the skin around his eyes went tight. His mouth flattened a little. Whatever he was about to say was difficult for him. “I…I want to suck you.”
Ah. There it was. No matter his wants, he had struggled with voicing that. Far be it from Dima to deny a reward. He took Paul’s mouth in a fast, hot kiss. These kisses were different than the night before, which had been in the moment. They’d been swept away. This meeting of mouths was a deliberate push on Dima’s part, even harder than he’d kissed Lizzie. His limbs tingled under a steady whoosh of tension—the good kind.
When he opened his eyes again, he found Lizzie watching them both. Still under Paul, she smiled as heat sparked in her gaze. What a strange, oddly backwards situation.
That didn’t mean he’d give up a moment.
Standing, he let the towel drop in a slow, deliberate move. He practically expected Lizzie’s admiration, but the way Paul drank in the view was an extra-special hit of power. Those jean-clad hips flexed into Lizzie, and her breath caught. Dima wondered how wet she must be. His mouth actually watered at the thought, but he’d had his lips and tongue all over her the previous night.
Today, this morning…this would be for Paul. A reward. A thank you. The best sort of initiation after all he’d already offered them.
Dima leaned against Lizzie’s huge pile of pillows. His elbows dug into her yielding mattress and quilt. Neither Lizzie nor Paul moved as he inched back to the headboard. His legs stretched out flat.
Turning his hand over, he touched first Paul, then Lizzie. Just because he could. “Come here.”
Though Dima said it softly, they both obeyed at once. As if they’d done it a hundred times, they arranged themselves without needing to consult. Lizzie wiggled over his legs and nestled against his side. He stroked her shoulders, winding his fingertips into her hair. The muscles at the base of her skull were tight. He’d see what could be done about that.
Paul knelt at Dima’s side. Thick thighs folded over his calves, and his hands rested palms up on his knees. His gaze was absolutely locked on Dima’s cock, which reared up to meet him. As his tongue flicked out to dampen the corner of his mouth, Paul glanced at them both.
A glimmer of sympathy rose in Dima’s chest, warm and gentle. He reached for the other man and touched his waist. Paul’s lats flinched. His skin was so hot it verged on feverish.
Dima traced a path up Paul’s ribs, over his chest and one not-quite-flat nipple. He cradled Paul’s jaw, outlined his mouth. Eyelids drifted to half-mast that said nothing about sleep and everything about desire. Dima understood. He was feeling covetous.
“What do you think, little one?”
Lizzie pressed an openmouthed kiss to the top of Dima’s pecs. The air in the room thickened—harder to breathe, yet more precious for it. “Of what?”
“Will you like seeing this mouth on my cock?”
She shuddered, her breasts rubbing against him. Her hips surged. “Yes. Very much.”
“So you’ll be making both of us happy,” Dima said, this time directing the words to Paul. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Paul didn’t speak, but his head jerked in a tiny nod of agreement. Dima tugged, pulling the other man’s tense face closer. He took a kiss. Hard. Hot. The thrust of his tongue in the blond’s mouth became a mimic of what his cock would do.