Dirty Princes: A Standalone MMF Romantic Comedy

by Jo Raven

  Over his head, Riddick shoots me a faint smile, and I smile back, thinking how despite all his own problems he stepped up to help—first me with the event at the hospital, and now Ryan.

  Even though he doesn’t trust him. Even though he isn’t sure.

  What am I going to do with these two guys who got hold of my heart like this?

  After tonight, I may have to get Simone and her voice of reason on speed dial, because I clearly can’t think straight anymore.

  ***

  We end up dozing for a big part of the night, Ryan not letting us go, even in his sleep.

  “What should we do?” I whisper to Riddick after I wake up for the third time with Ryan snoring softly in my neck.

  “We could let him have the sofa and bring him a blanket.” His voice is so hoarse it hurts my ears, and he looks beat. “Or we could help him to bed.”

  “And what about us?”

  “I have a few ideas.” He grins wolfishly at me, his dimples flashing, and my face heats up. “I could show you.”

  “I mean, where will we sleep? Do we leave him and go home?”

  “Bry…” Sleepily, Ryan turns his face into my neck and I yelp. Ticklish.

  God, he’s adorable like this. And his mussed blond hair and sleepy eyes are so sexy.

  Focus, Bry. You can’t seriously want them both the same way. To the same degree. And besides that’s not what you’re discussing right now.

  “We could crash here,” Riddick mutters, glancing around the sleek living room with its thick carpet and expensive-looking TV. “If we put him to bed, you could take the couch. I could take the floor.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “You can take the sofa, and I—”

  “Or we could all sleep together. His bed is pretty big.”

  I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. The words “boy sandwich” flash again through my mind.

  So frigging tempting to lie between their hot, strong bodies, to sleep ensconced in their arms. Both of them, together. The two boys I want.

  Dangerous.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I whisper, against the tide of want and hope.

  There’s a stretch of silence.

  “You were right about him,” Riddick says softly after a few beats.

  “I was?”

  “He has a heart of gold. He hired a PI to look for my brother. He does care about us. We should stay.”

  I shake my head. “He’s pretty much out of it. He may not be so happy to finds us here when he wakes up tomorrow.”

  Riddick’s bright gaze dims. “Right.”

  One night doesn’t change anything. Tomorrow Ryan may not remember he asked us to stay. Despite what Riddick says, he may recall all his reasons for not getting involved with us.

  And since when is there an “us”?

  This is all wrong.

  “Let’s get him into bed,” Riddick mutters. “Then I’ll drive you home.”

  We start to sit up, pulling Ryan along, lifting him to his feet, not an easy feat. He’s made up of heavy, lean muscle.

  His head comes up as we wrestle him to his feet, long lashes lifting. “Wha?” he breathes, weaving where he stands. “Bry?”

  “I’m right here,” I say, steeling myself. “We’re getting you into bed, and then we’ll go—”

  “Don’t go.” He leans into me, his mouth on my hair. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “So sorry, Bry. For being so fucking nasty to you.”

  Crap, he isn’t supposed to be doing this. Weakening my already shaky resolve, stripping away all the rust from himself at once, gleaming in the dark like a golden blade.

  My eyes burn with tears.

  “And you, Rid…” He turns toward Riddick, whose gray eyes are so wide it’s funny. “Sorry for running every time. I don’t wanna run anymore. I fucking can’t.”

  “I know,” Riddick whispers. “It wasn’t just you. I kept running, too.”

  “Stay with me tonight,” Ryan says, the words feathering over my cheek, slipping into my mind like a drug. “Stay.”

  I nod, and Riddick sighs.

  We stumble into his bedroom, fall on the huge bed. I toe off my shoes and bend to help Ryan take off his. Riddick pulls back the covers so that we can crawl under them, and Ryan drags us back into his arms, a faint smile on his handsome face.

  He looks… content. Peaceful.

  Come to think of it, so does Riddick. He shoots me a sleepy grin.

  My guys.

  I was out to get one, and ended up getting caught—by two of them, no less. Ryan with his moments of vulnerability and his hard kisses. Riddick in his Spiderman costume, being there for me despite his own troubles, touching me and letting himself be touched.

  My heart beats faster when I think of them, when I touch them, when I kiss them. Just the thought of spending the night with them makes me feel warm all over, inside and out. I want them. So much, I’m burning.

  God, what am I supposed to do now?

  ***

  At some point in the night, I wake up, too warm under the covers with two hot male bodies, and uncomfortable in my princess dress.

  At least I thought to remove the tiara before climbing in.

  I sit up, and I’m trying to unzip my dress when I feel hands on my waist.

  “Let me,” Ryan whispers, and I shiver as he pushes the dress off my shoulders and down my arms, freeing me from the heavy fabric, leaving me in my bra and panties as I wiggle out of it the rest of the way.

  I let it drop to the floor, and I turn to face him.

  To face them.

  Ryan slides his hands over my shoulders, my arms, the bandage scratchy and his palms warm, so warm. Like his eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, and I suck in an unsteady breath.

  Something has changed. I feel it in the air between us. It’s how he’s looking at me, with raw need in his gaze and shock in his expression. Like he can’t believe this is happening.

  Neither can I.

  I reach up, pinch his arm.

  “Ow.” He frowns. “What was that for?”

  “Just making sure this is real.”

  He laughs, shakes his head. “It’s never predictable with you, is it?”

  “Should it be?”

  “No,” he says, more softly, his laughter fading to a quiet chuckle. “I like you the way you are.”

  I open my mouth, though I’m not sure what to say to that.

  “What are you kids up to?” comes a raspy voice from behind him.

  Ryan turns.

  Riddick has sat up, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, the Spiderman costume molded to his strong chest, his prominent pecs and defined stomach. His arms… Oh God, talk about arm porn. Those bulging biceps…

  “Hey,” I say awkwardly, suddenly remembering I’m in my underwear and putting my hands over my breasts.

  Then just as suddenly I remember that he’s seen me topless, that he touched my pussy, and I feel a fierce blush scorch a path up my neck to my cheeks when his knowing gaze lands on me, followed by a sexy smirk.

  “Hey, Princess,” he mutters. “Looks like I’m overdressed for this party.”

  “That’s the truth,” Ryan rasps, blinking as if just waking up from a dream and reaching for the zipper on Riddick’s back. He tugs it down and shoves the material apart, baring that strong back. The dark lines of Riddick’s tattoo trail around his side, dipping into the small of his back, to the top of his strong ass.

  I’ve never seen him from the back. He’s just as delicious as he is from the front. He turns around pulling off the costume, until it hangs over his waist, leaving him bare-chested.

  Oh God, this boy’s so sexy…

  He growls deep in his throat and pushes Ryan back on the pillows, that impressive chest tightening, muscles rippling. He kneels and grabs the hem of Ryan’s tank top. “What about you?”

  Ryan glances at me, then back at him and licks his lips. “I guess I’m in your hands.”

  Underneath his words, t
here’s an echo of something deeper, more meaningful, but I focus on the tangible now.

  “Bare yourself,” I whisper, and that echo finds its way in my words, too.

  There’s so much we should be talking about.

  Instead, Riddick rips Ryan’s top off, actually tears it off at the seams, leaving him blinking dazedly, his bared chest strong and beautiful, golden skin stretched over taut muscles, small brown nipples tightening into hard points.

  God, like mine. My breasts ache and feel heavy, my nipples aching, throbbing in their prison of lace. I need… I need them to touch me.

  As if reading my mind, Riddick slides an arm around my waist and kisses me. His mouth is a firebrand, soft but firm and white-hot as it moves over my lips. He hauls me against him until I’m riding his thick thigh, his hand possessively cupping my ass, kneading, sending sparks of desire into my belly.

  “Holy fuck, that’s hot,” Ryan whispers and moves behind my back, his hands smoothing over my ribcage, over my breasts, pressing against my hard nipples, until I’m overwhelmed with sensation. “You’re hot.”

  Is it supposed to feel so good, just kissing and being touched by these two hotties? Because my pussy is clenching so tightly I think I’m about to come. I gasp in Riddick’s mouth when Ryan rubs over my nipples, even through the scratchy lace, or maybe that’s why it’s so crazy good.

  The muscular thigh between my legs lifts a little, rubbing over my lace-covered pussy, and I gasp again, moaning, clutching at Riddick’s arms.

  “Oh God,” I manage to whisper when he draws back a fraction of an inch to suck in a breath. “Rid…”

  “Do you want this, Princess?” he asks, his voice and his gaze serious. “Us, together, touching you?”

  “Making you come?” Ryan whispers against my neck, his hot mouth leaving a trail of fire down to my shoulder. “Making you scream?”

  “God, yes. Yes.” Is this me? Am I really saying yes to my fantasy without sparing a thought to what comes after? “Permission granted.”

  Ryan chuckles, that rich, deep sound that makes my insides clench harder. “Roger that.”

  His hands leave my breasts only to swiftly snap my bra open and pull it off me. His hands are then back, cupping my bare boobs, stroking and rubbing and generally driving me crazy.

  “Oh my God…” I whisper, panting, rubbing myself on Riddick’s thigh. “Oooh…”

  “You didn’t specify,” Riddick murmurs, his hand dipping under the elastic of my panties, down the crack of my ass, “how far we’re allowed to go, Princess.” His hand is massaging between my ass cheeks and lower, where my pussy is spread, his finger dipping inside, and I groan, lost in pleasure. “How far inside.”

  It’s so hard to think, with their hands on me, with Riddick’s hard cock pressed against my belly, and Ryan’s to my back.

  “I don’t…” I try. “Just don’t…”

  Ryan huffs, lightly biting my shoulder. “No penetration?”

  “Shit,” Riddick grunts, his finger sliding along my seam, the tip barely dipping into me before sliding out. “It’s going to be hard…”

  “So hard…” Ryan agrees, a hint of laughter in his voice.

  “No penetration, then,” Riddick says, and leans in to kiss my mouth.

  Assault on every front. His finger hasn’t stopped stroking me, sliding in my slickness, finding my clit and toying with it, sliding back to my opening and torturing me with short, quick flicks, then up to my ass and repeating the action there, drawing me to the edge of orgasm and pulling back. His mouth is hard, and his tongue mimics the thrust of his finger inside me, in and out, in and out.

  So close. So very close.

  Ryan shifts against my back, softly groaning in my ear, kissing my neck, his thumbs flicking over my nipples, lashing at them, and it hurts the oversensitive nubs, but I don’t want him to ever stop. The pleasure sparkles inside me, coalescing into a hard, heavy knot in my pussy, a pressure that’s painful.

  I need relief. Release. It’s never been so urgent, so unavoidable. I’m ready to beg, to promise anything for that pressure to shatter.

  Not sure what does it, but one moment I’m riding Riddick’s finger and writhing under Ryan’s touch, and the next I’m crying out, my body convulsing with the strongest orgasm I’ve ever had. It’s ripping me apart, the pleasure drowning me, wave after wave rushing from my pussy to my back to the top of my head, until I don’t know who I am or where.

  Hanging in their hold, I’m struggling to catch my breath, my pussy still pulsing, my body still trembling.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” Riddick says hoarsely, his hands moving up to grip my hips. “So responsive. So real.”

  “That was hot,” Ryan’s voice rumbles at my back. He’s still holding my breasts, gently massaging them, and even that small movement makes me clench again and gasp. “Fuck, I’m dying to go down on you.”

  I feel my eyes go round. God, the idea… it’s enough to make me spasm again.

  “She likes that,” Riddick whispers. “Fuck, girl. I’d love to shove my big cock inside you, breach you open. I bet you’d love it.”

  I moan and find myself rocking on his thigh. Oh God. I want it. I want everything with them.

  This is crazy.

  “But not tonight,” Ryan says. “Not until she’s made up her mind.”

  At least one of us is thinking straight.

  “Fuck, I need to come.” Riddick shifts restlessly, the muscles in his thigh bunching. His cock is thick and hard like an iron bar between us, caught inside his costume. His pale eyes are shadowed by his long lashes. “No way can I sleep with this monster hard-on.”

  It is really big. I lick my lips, wondering how it could possibly fit inside me.

  “Makes two of us,” Ryan mutters, pulling away, glancing from the bulge in his pants to Riddick’s. “We could—”

  “I want to watch,” someone says in a faint voice, and I realize it’s me. “Watch you, together. Oh crap.”

  Ryan’s mouth tugs into a lopsided grin. His eyes sparkle. “Your wish is our command, your Highness.”

  Riddick is already stripping off his red costume. “Ready or not, here I come.”

  I lean back on my hands, half-naked and so frigging excited as they strip. My whole body is throbbing in time to my heart, and my panties are so soaked… If this is a dream, I sure don’t want to wake up.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Pink Nipple Cups

  Riddick

  It’s the middle of the night, I’m so fucking hard I could burst, and I just know this has to be a wet dream. One of those that have me waking up with my hand working my cock in a frenzy until I come, or with my jizz splashed all over my sheets already.

  I mean, I’m in a huge bedroom, on a huge bed, and it’s warm, not like the hellhole where I shack up with Xavier. There are dark drapes covering one wall, probably hiding a window, and an exercise space in one corner, with a yoga mat and several weights.

  But that’s not what tells me it’s a dream.

  No, that’s because Brylee is on this huge bed, practically naked, her tiny lace panties barely covering her pussy as she kneels, legs slightly spread. Her tits are awesome, large, with pale pink nipples that are hard and taut, making my mouth water. She’s breathing hard, her eyes dark with lust, one hand straying over her leg, and I think she’s going to push it between her legs.

  Holy shit.

  And it’s not only her.

  On my other side is Ryan. He’s pushed down his pants and briefs, and he flings them off the bed, wrapping his hand around his hard dick with a grunt of relief.

  Fuck, he’s big. His cock is long and thick. Golden, like the rest of him. I never took my time to get my fill, but now I watch him as he pumps his dick once, twice, his lashes lowering, trembling over his eyes.

  Then he looks up. Meeting my gaze, he smirks. “Need a hand?”

  I glance down at my hard-on. It bobs, straining and dripping precum on the dark sheets. My balls ac
he, taut and heavy.

  I blink.

  This is real.

  Brylee makes a tiny sound in the back of her throat and my gaze snaps to her. Her mouth is slack, her cheeks pink.

  “What is it, Princess?”

  “Why is it…? Why do I want to see you kissing, and… and touching each other? Oh God…” Her hand finally slips between her legs, her fingers teasing the edge of the lacy panties. “I need…”

  “What do you need?” Ryan asks, his voice like gravel, his cock twitching.

  Oh fuck. Oh fuck, this is crazy.

  “Need to see you,” she breathes. “Together. Like in my dreams…”

  “Oh Jesus…” Ryan mutters, his fist working up and down his cock faster, his eyes falling shut, his breathing speeding. “You dream of us?”

  I can’t take any more.

  Pushing Ryan back against the headboard, I grab his dick in my hand and crush our mouths together. His familiar taste explodes on my tongue, his moan shivers through my blood, and then his hand is closing around my cock, and we’re moving together.

  “Good God,” Brylee whispers, and it’s a jolt to my balls, knowing she’s watching.

  Shooting her a sideways glance, seeing her rapt expression, the frantic movement of her hand inside her panties, I tighten my hold on Ryan’s cock, making him curse.

  Curse and haul me against him, gripping my dick as hard as I’m gripping his, kissing me with all he has. Golden hair is falling in his eyes, and I lift a hand to brush it away as I rock in his hold, pushing into his hand. He’s groaning, his dick jerking in my palm, and I hiss.

  So damn close. Right on the edge.

  With my free hand, I grab the top of the headboard, for leverage, rocking faster in Ryan’s grip, jacking him off faster.

  Brylee is gasping, and fuck, I need to see this. Breaking the kiss, I turn my head just in time to see her come, her mouth open, her hips jerking, her eyes wide.

  “Shit, Ryan, I can’t…” Can’t hold back any longer. My cock spasms, dances in his fist, my balls lurch, and I’m splashing cum all over our chests. “Fuck…”