Out in Time Page 12

  Fuck me, Royce.

  Take every inch of me. You like that don’t you? When I pull your hair, you nearly come undone.

  Fuck yeah. Please, Royce.

  Luna would do anything to have those words lavished upon her, to be able to say those very things to them. So, she pretended they included her. That she was the object of their desire and they were hers. The little app on her iPad filled with the gay porn blogs she’d become addicted to after meeting the men had nothing on the heat those two created within her. She couldn’t have stopped her hands if she’d tried. The things had a mind of their own when they bunched her loosely flowing skirt around her waist and dove into her panties. Her fingers circled her clit for a moment before dipping into the searing wetness. She fingered herself hard for a moment, even throwing her own hand over her mouth to muffle the obscene noises threatening to bubble from her throat.

  When her clit throbbed with need, she pushed her thumb to it.

  Pressed.

  Teased.

  Pinched.

  Repeated the pattern again and again.

  When she felt herself on the verge of coming, Luna shoved both fingers in her vagina again.

  Rotated them.

  Spread them.

  She liked it rough. Fuck, did she like it rough. She held her breath, knowing that would make her orgasm all the more intense. Her head slammed back against the chair. Her hips circled to ride her fingers to the finish.

  Then her fingers were replaced by Royce’s. Fuck, but they were thick and demanding.

  She needed Shea too. She pinched her lips together so that she could remove her hand. That hand flew down to squeeze one nipple. Hard. It was Shea thumbing the bud and then twisting so hard, asking if she liked that. Yes, Shea. Just like that, Luna moaned.

  Royce told her to fuck his hand like she meant it, so she did. He needed to know she meant it. She cried out his name.

  She bent and bucked and writhed. Then she came.

  Silently.

  Harshly.

  Harder than she’d ever come before.

  Her men smiled at each other. Then at her. Then they kissed, almost chastely, counteracting the wild moment. They kissed her. She tasted them on each other. Royce pressed his fingers into her mouth, and Luna licked them clean before he removed them and sucked her tongue into his mouth.

  Luna’s body seemed to melt into the chair. Time was suspended. Her breaths were shallow and hot. Once she opened her eyes, she knew they would disappear, taking their sweet kisses and their panty-combusting commands with them. She almost couldn’t bear it. Right now, their presence was so strong she could almost feel it.

  With a deep sigh, she let her fingers fall from her mouth and her breast. Both hands dropped to the chair with a thud. She giggled again at how deeply sated she was.

  Only, her giggle seemed to echo. But it was deeper. Richer. More masculine.

  She was drunker than she thought.

  Luna’s eyes fluttered open and closed. Open and closed. She finally fixed her stare on the glass where twin gazes of amusement shone back at her. One an intense blue. The other a mesmerizing hazel.

  Too late to pretend embarrassment, Luna swallowed her nerves and met their eyes with her own.

  “Luna, dear girl,” Royce tsked, “if only we’d known.”

  Shea dipped his head and bit Royce’s shoulder. “God, if we’d known,” he groaned.

  Luna chose to believe that the champagne made her bold when she brazened, “And if you’d known?”

  “That’s simple, darling. We could have celebrated. The three of us. Together,” Royce declared.

  Inside, she gasped, even though she hoped she remained steadfast in appearance. But you’re both gay. Why would you want me? Her naïveté won in the end when she whispered, “But how would that even work?”

  Royce spun her chair around to face them as they sat perched on her desk. “Any way we want.”

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