by Ciar Cullen
“God…Virgil…I don’t think…I…oh, fuck…” Her choked exclamations barely filtered over the rush of blood in his ears, of the desire driving him. He could push her over so easily. But he’d already had that surrender from her once and, while he desperately wanted to drive her to it again, that wasn’t his goal.
He tore himself away, sat back on his heels and took in her shock at being abandoned so abruptly.
Aidan spoke up. “Virgil, what are you—”
Virgil wrapped a hand behind Aidan’s neck and pulled him forward, cutting off the words as Aidan’s lips touched his own. Aidan made as if to draw back, but Virgil held him there, forcing Aidan to open to him. The low groan Aidan gave as he accepted the assault was almost more satisfying than Drea’s gasping pleas. But even that wasn’t as good as when Aidan took control of the kiss, pulling Virgil close as his tongue darted in and out and around Virgil’s mouth, tasting the rewards of Virgil’s labors.
“Delicious, isn’t she?” Virgil asked, his voice gone rough.
“Jesus.” It was said with absolute wonder. “It’s kind of like how you taste, but…”
“Better?” Virgil grinned.
“Different. Good different. But not better or worse,” Aidan replied softly. His head turned toward Drea. “I don’t think you can compare it.”
Drea looked slightly bemused. “I’ll take your word on that.”
Aidan then asked her, “Would you mind if I tried?”
Her cheeks grew pinker, but her voice was steady when she replied. “If you want to.”
“Virgil?”
“That’s why I stopped, Aidan. Drea’s willing and waiting.” He pointedly moved to the side, leaving the way open.
Aidan blushed as he moved to kneel between Drea’s legs. He glanced sheepishly at Virgil. “How do I do this?”
“Go slow and easy. The terrain’s a bit different, but the idea’s the same.”
“Right.” Aidan’s brow furrowed as he swallowed hard. Then he faced Drea. “You all right?”
“I will be when one of you decides to do something for me.” The words were pointed but gentle.
As Aidan leaned down to taste Drea directly for the first time, Virgil realized that compared to Aidan, he hadn’t been nervous at all. Aidan’s uncertainty was clear in the stiff set of his shoulders, the tension visible in the tight muscles of his neck.
“Just remember our first time together,” Drea murmured to Aidan, running her right hand lightly through his hair. “It took some trial and error, but we soon figured out what to do, right?”
Virgil saw Aidan’s shoulders relax slightly as he finally committed to action. He must have found a sensitive place because Drea gasped sharply. He started to pull back, but she held him in place, murmuring for him to keep on. It was no small amount of jealousy that Virgil felt watching Drea and Aidan together. They had shared something that Virgil wasn’t a part of, couldn’t be a part of. And then again, he couldn’t begrudge them the connection, either. They each had their connections with one or the other that the third could never quite share. It was why they had become friends to begin with. No one of them had everything the others needed. Like here, Drea and Aidan had their inexperience in common, but Virgil had enough insight to guide them when needed. The flare of jealousy quickly ceded to fascination. It was beautiful watching them together.
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