Advent Calendar For Reverse Harem Readers
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“Come over here, darling,” I murmur to Ronin. “I want you sitting on this futon and spread wide for us.”
He gives me a smoking look. “I hope that means I’m about to feel both your mouths wrapped around my cock.”
I grin, because my boyfriend never has a problem asking for what he wants, and tonight he’s definitely going to get it. The thought of sharing his cock with Zara quickens the glide of my palm along my shaft. But I don’t want to come just yet.
Somehow, I force myself to stop and stand and wait for them.
He saunters over and sits the way I want him, knees spread wide enough to expose not only his cock but his swollen sac, just begging to be tongued.
I don’t want to wait, and I don’t want her to wait either. Yet I hesitate, because this choreography might very well be about to create more intimacy with despicable me than our little royal has bargained for.
“Don’t even,” Ronin growls, glaring at me. “I fucking need both of you. Are you not getting how totally okay she is with this setup?”
“I’m not a telepath, darlings,” I whisper. “I need to hear the words.”
“Vasili.” Zara’s fingers graze mine, and I welcome the tiny sparks that fly when we touch.
Yet the discharge makes her grimace. “Damn! I’m trying to control that.”
“Don’t,” I say roughly, turning my palm to meet hers, looking down into her upturned face. “Don’t try to control a fucking thing. We can handle you and everything you throw at us. I just need to know what you want.”
“I want you,” she whispers, and my heart literally stops beating. “Kneeling next to me on the floor and sucking his cock.”
Damn if the mere notion doesn’t make me nearly come in my pants.
“Fortunately, that’s one desire I believe I can fully accommodate.” I sink to my knees between Ronin’s legs.
He obligingly spreads wider to welcome both of us. From this vantage, I’ve a front row seat for his massive dick and swollen balls and even that sweet pucker I’ll be pounding into until we all see flaming comets.
Roughly I grip his sinewed thigh to open him wider. My other hand works back under my briefs to find my own cock, which I can’t seem to stop stroking.
She slides down beside me and wraps her hand around his shaft.
Ronin’s panting for her, for us, but she’s so captivating to watch as she licks up the underside of his dick and paints a glistening stripe from his balls to his tip. His fists clench and his thighs tense. She plays with his Prince Albert and circles the head of his cock with another long slow lick I can feel, oh God, I can feel her tongue through the bond I share with him.
“Vasili,” he gasps.
“Darlings, I could watch the two of you all night.” I give myself another few pumps. “But, after all, a promise is a promise.”
I lean in to mouth his inner thigh and work my way up, tasting salt and Ronin on my tongue, my boyfriend’s familiar taste. There’s nothing I won’t give him, nothing I won’t do for him.
Just below his groin I linger to administer my own stinging bite, marking him with savage purpose while he writhes and moans, though I’m careful not to puncture his perfect skin with my horrible fangs.
Zara’s working him in sweet earnest, her head bobbing up and down his shaft. I stroke the riotous tangle of her silky curls over one shoulder so I can admire her technique, which is absolutely stellar. I can feel the captivating suck of those plump lips like she’s wrapped around my own cock.
By now they’re both panting with lust, his cock soaked and glistening with her saliva.
My hand is slick with my own need, my pace quickening, and I’m truly going to have to work not to come too early before I even get inside him.
We’re kneeling side by side, she and I. In these crowded quarters, a certain degree of intimate contact is inevitable. She’s naked except for her tiny panties, and she has the softest skin, and she smells like roses and vanilla. I have the strangest urge to wrap my arms around her from behind and fill my hands with her lush breasts and torment her pierced nipples the way she’s tormenting Ronin’s cock.
Slowly her face turns toward me, lips damp and puffy, face flushed and lids heavy.
“Hey, Goblin King,” she says, low in her throat. “I’ll get him nice and ready for you. Lose the pants.”
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