Moonlit Ménage
Page 6
A cheer went up from the most of the surrounding fey. She’d have her work cut out for her in terms of winning them over. But if she was with her guys, did anything else really matter?
“By the power of the earth and the sky,” the Irish king announced the gathered assembly. “Quillen is joined to Brontë and Brontë to Tarran. This union is sacred and recognised by all. Let the rite begin!”
Another more enthusiastic cheer sounded as Quill pulled her into his arms, his hard cock pushing insistently into the soft flesh of her stomach. Driving his hand through her hair, he tilted her head back and claimed her lips. His hungry mouth devoured hers, biting at her lips as he slid his hands beneath her shirt.
Tarran pressed to her back, dragging hot open mouthed kisses along her shoulders and slipping his hand down the front of her shorts.
She ended the kiss. “There’s God knows how many of your subjects watching. You wanna take this somewhere more private?”
“Sorry, love,” Tarran murmured against her ear. “When the king is wed, the first time is always public.”
“We’ll make you forget all about them,” Quill said, nuzzling her neck and sliding the straps of her top off her shoulders to uncover her chest. Her nipples had tightened the moment they’d touched her, but now they were pebble-hard and aching.
Tarran pulled his hand from her shorts and cupped her breasts, offering them to Quill. She could only imagine the picture they made as Quill drew her nipples into his mouth—one after the other, until her knees weakened and all three of them sank to the pile of silks and pillows that covered the ground.
They laid her back against a cushion and stripped the clothes from their bodies. Quill pulled off her shorts and Tarran her top, baring her completely. It was impossible to care about the people watching as Quill settled between her legs, toying with her exposed pussy. Spreading her wide with his thumbs, he lapped at her slick folds while she squirmed beneath him.
Tarran knelt at her head, leaning over and sucking her nipples, pinching and biting until she writhed. “Open your eyes, love. There’s not a person out there who doesn’t want to be where Quill and I are right now.”
She cracked open an eye and peeked. Men were stroking their cocks, women were baring their breasts and playing with their nipples, some couples were already fucking on the ground and up against trees.
Tarran sank his teeth into her aching peak and she cried out. “They want to feel your nipples harden against their tongues. They want to taste your sweet cream as they lick your cunt.”
Words escaped her, replaced by panting whimpers.
Quill groaned against her pussy. “You’re so wet, cariad.”
“And that guy right there?” Tarran said nodding towards a man watching avidly. “He’s wondering how tight you’d grip his cock if he were inside you.”
At that moment, Quill sucked her clit between his lips and she came with no warning, screaming their names.
Without giving her time to recover, Tarran shifted and pulled her to lay on top of him. Pushing herself up on his chest, she slowly eased down the thick length of his cock. Closing her eyes, she rode him as he guided her hips, pushing into her from beneath. Taking a quick peek, she saw more couples, threesomes and even foursomes fucking right along with them. Never in her life had she seen that much raw lust. Need coiled within her, and she knew it wouldn’t take much to push her over the edge again.
Something warm drizzled between her ass cheeks, startling her.
“Easy, love,” Tarran murmured. “It’s just Quill.”
Quill slowly worked his oil-coated finger into her ass, gently stretching her. She’d never taken anything up her ass, and the sensation was overwhelming. Stroking in and out, he kept time with Tarran as he shafted her. She felt finger and cock sliding together, separated by only a thin membrane. Quill added a second finger stretching her and whispering about how they’d fill her. Finally he worked in a third then left her empty and aching.
She tensed when she felt the wide, slippery head of his cock press against the tight ring of muscles.
“You’ll love this, cariad. I promise,” Quill breathed against her back.
Brontë bit her lip at the flare of pain as he pushed into untried territory, but little by little, she relaxed. He gently inched his way inside, a guttural groan tore from his lips as he seated himself completely.
Permeated and stretched, she cried out at the unbelievable fullness. Pinned between their hard bodies, she writhed—torn between wanting more and wanting to get away. Raw, unrelenting pleasure washed over her as Quill withdrew and Tarran shoved forward. She was never empty. Alternating strokes, they slid in and out of her needy body, pushing her desire higher until all that mattered was the delicious friction between their skin. What started out as measured and careful had deteriorated into an urgent, hungry fucking. And she loved it.
She loved the way they fit together slick and sweaty, their thick cocks sliding in sync inside her. She loved the way that Quill ground her clit into Tarran’s pubis on every down stroke, and the way their balls slapped wetly against her pussy, wetly against each other. The release they’d been driving her towards shimmered just out of reach. The way their whispered words—half prayer half curse—pushed her closer.
She began to clench around them, squeezing their cocks, begging for more. Without warning, Quill cried out, filling her ass with hot splashes of cum as he rode her hard through his release. His last shuddering jerk sent her over the edge and she spasmed around Tarran’s cock pulling him with her into the abyss. Ribbons of sensation wrapped around her, tightening and drawing out the carnal pleasure. Tarran shook beneath her as he spilled hot and thick into her body, pushing through her contracting muscles, drawing her release out longer.
Finally, their frantic motion slowed then stopped completely. They collapsed in a tangle of limbs as their heartbeats all thundered together, one impossible to discern from the others. As they tried to catch their breath, they murmured their love for her.
“I love you,” she whispered.
As much as she doubted it was possible to love two men and love them equally, she did. She loved the way they wanted her. She loved the way they fought with each other and for each other. Mostly, she just loved…them. And that was really all she needed.
About the Author
Bronwyn lives in Michigan with her wonderful husband, two amazing sons and six somewhat-psychotic cats. When not tormenting her characters, she can usually be found helping with reading and writing projects in her sons’ classrooms as well as being the car pool mom extraordinaire for five teens and a couple of preteens. Besides writing, she also enjoys reading, knitting, sewing, cross stitching, pottery, drawing—basically anything that helps her avoid the tortures of cleaning and cooking.
Email: Bronwyn@bronwyngreen.com
Bronwyn loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
Also by Bronwyn Green
Celtic Fire: Solstice Seduction
Celtic Fire: Moonlit Magic
From the Ruins
Mist and Stone
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