“Fuck,” Kols panted in reply. “Fuck.”
“Is that your preference? Instead of her swallowing?” Zeph asked, his attention returning to the Elite Blood.
Kols made a dark noise, his fingers digging into the ground beside us.
Zeph smirked knowingly, then he slowly lifted my head up to the tip and plunged me back down again. A shocked gasp escaped me, the penetration deep and cutting off my airway.
But the responding growl from Kols made it worth it. He shook beneath me, his abdomen clenching as his release shot into the back of my throat.
I swallowed because there was no other option. Not that I desired one. Tasting Kols was like a reward, his essence one I craved and needed to survive. He lifted one hand from the ground, his knuckles brushing my cheek as he continued to come undone, that solitary beautiful touch a display of gratitude while he came apart beneath me.
My heart warmed in response.
There was so much love and adoration in that graze against my skin.
I love you,he said into my mind. So fucking much, Aflora.
I love you, too, I replied, drinking from him both figuratively and literally.
He shot off one more trickle down my throat, then calmed beneath me, his explosion one I felt warming our bond and igniting a fire from within me.
But I sensed he gave more to Zeph, using his orgasm as a way to punishingly taunt the other male. The Warrior Blood palmed himself, a growl mingling with a groan as he squeezed his shaft through his trousers. “I’m going to return that favor later,” he threatened.
“Good,” Kols replied, his tone lazy and sated. “I look forward to it.” He went to his elbows, his bronze gaze finding mine. “But first, I believe you owe our mate a reward. Unless you’d like me to do the honors?”
“You can help,” Zeph offered, his green irises smoldering with promise. “Lay down, pixie flower. And lift your skirt.” He swiped his finger through the paste again, leaving little to the imagination on what he wanted.
And I wasn’t about to refuse.
So I did what he asked, lifting my skirt and showing off my lack of underwear.
Both men groaned in response.
Then I spread my legs and they cursed.
Kols moved to my mouth first, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips to demand entry as his palm went to my breast. I moaned against him, arching into his touch while returning his kiss with reckless abandon.
Alive, I thought. He’s alive.
I knew this, had been part of his resurrection, but the continued reminder of his existence set my soul on fire for him. Because he was mine. In more than one way—mine. And I would have been utterly destroyed without him.
I ensured he knew that by opening my mind to his, pushing him my feelings of gratitude and devotion, wordlessly telling him what he meant to me.
He responded with a broadcast of his own emotions, drowning me in his adoration and worship.
Then Zeph parted my folds with his tongue, demanding my focus.
Ohhh…
His finger followed his mouth, then he traced his touch, licking the paste from the intimate heart of me.
Who knew food could be so exciting?
I shivered as he did it again, then Kols’s lips trailed down my neck as his fingers deftly unfastened my blouse.
Goose bumps trailed across my skin, my body primed and ready to explode.
But a nibble to my clit told me I didn’t have permission yet.