Paul made a soft humming sound in his throat, but it was truncated as he took Dima deep once again. He was picking up speed, face-fucking by his own design. He didn’t have much farther to go, if Dima’s straining neck was any indication. Both of them fought to set the pace.
“I have a bottle of lube right here in my nightstand,” she continued. “Or I could lick that fresh-washed asshole until he was slippery and open for you.”
“Little one?”
“Yes, Dima?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Hmmm…nope. Don’t think I will. Paul likes this too much. Don’t you, Paul?”
She wrapped around his body to catch a side view as he smiled around Dima’s cock. That he enjoyed teasing Dima as much as she did made her relax. She had an ally in loosening him up.
“Don’t worry, Dima mine. I think Paul here wants to finish what he started. Yes, Paul?”
He groaned around another smile. Dima started in on a stream of Russian curses, his hips pulsing under unyielding hands. As if by instinct, Paul loosened his hold to give Dima more freedom to maneuver. She knew what a stickler for control her partner was. Bound in any way, physically or mentally, he was more likely to get frustrated or lose his hot, tightly reined temper than get off.
She kissed her thanks between Paul’s shoulder blades, licked away the sweat and began to stroke him in time with his attention to Dima. “I want you to fuck me. As soon as he comes, Paul, I want you inside of me. You kiss will still taste like Dima when you drive this beautiful cock home.”
To emphasize the point, while the boys kicked up the pace, she tugged Paul’s jeans down even farther. She unwrapped a condom and rolled it up to sheath his heavy erection. His hips were grinding the air. She bit the flesh at the top of his buttocks and held on as his mouth bounced over Dima.
Paul breathed heavily through his nose. Sloppy wet noises filled her bedroom, and the air was laced with sweat and sex and the need for an explosion. Dima’s explosion.
“Little one,” he growled. “Here. Now.”
As much as she enjoyed nibbling Paul’s ass, she was Dima’s to command. How long had that been the case? She crawled up the bed, ready to resume the same cuddled-up position.
Dima had other ideas.
Ideas he hadn’t shared. She might’ve thought to get more upset if his dominance in bed wasn’t such a damn turn-on.
“On your back.”
His voice was a low, heavily accented rasp that sent shivers of nervous anticipation up the backs of her thighs. Dima never hurt her—hell, never intentionally—but he expected things of her that could push her limits. Throughout their partnership, she had been the public face while, behind the scenes, always testing her resolve, he matched his daring to her ambition. They urged each other to greatness.
If only…
No, she didn’t want to stray toward useless daydreams when a very real, very incredible fantasy stretched out on her bed.
Lizzie shut off her brain and obeyed. It was easy. The brief moment of control she’d had, watching the men in their sexy contest, teasing them both, was over. She settled into her submission with the ease of returning home. Dima led and she followed. Another shiver played across her skin but landed nearer her heart than her slick pussy.
Dima relinquished his hold on Paul’s nape. “Arms overhead,” he said.
Lizzie barely reached them up before Dima revealed his intentions. He looped his forearm to encircle the insides of her elbow. Hauling her slightly sideways, he angled her head to rest in the crook of his shoulder. Her upraised hands dangled uselessly just out of sight. She arched, stretching her breasts in that long, voluptuous pose.
“This is your reward, Paul,” Dima said softly. “This girl. Those tits are for your mouth, which has to be tingling.”
Lizzie couldn’t see Dima’s face from her position, but she had a clear view of how his sexy taunts affected Paul. He looked as submerged in the strong aura of Dima’s pleasure as she was.
“Don’t forget her ass. The hot little ass you love so much. You can clasp her sweet flesh just like you’re doing mine, but she won’t fight you. She’ll take every stroke because she wants it that hard from you.” He paused. “Even if she can’t say so.”
“Dima…?”
His free hand closed over her mouth, holding fast. Completely restrained. She struggled once, but his arm tightened across her elbows and kept her immobilized.
“I told you to shut the fuck up, little one. Now we’ll only hear your teases and your screams if I want us to.”
After the tiniest flash of panic, she relaxed on a damp rush of oh, holy fuck. She found Paul’s eyes, where he had slowed—but never stopped—to watch the new development. A silent question waited there, as well as concern she needed to alleviate.