“And you’re cold,” Akara adds. Cold sounds more like ready on his lips. His gaze makes me feel utterly naked like there’s no sleeping bag on top of my waist. His playful side has switched off in favor of something more serious and sensual.
“Really horny. Really cold…both those things, yeah,” I manage to say. Probably ineloquently. How does one wax poetic soliloquies at a dreamy moment?
I have no idea. I’m not perfect with words. I’m just untamed feelings.
Not in my head enough to even be embarrassed, I just say what I’m thinking. “I feel like my skin has been shed over and over tonight, and I need warmth and something or someone to hold it together before it reaches the bone. I just…I want to be touched. Like really touched.” My voice comes out choked at the last part.
They both slide closer until their bodies are flush against mine. I almost turn on my side, but Akara puts his hand on my abdomen to stop me. “Stay right here,” he whispers into my ear. His forehead pressed against my temple. “We’re going to touch you, Sulli.”
Very softly, Banks asks, “How far have you gone with someone before?” His deep voice is one of the most soothing sounds in the night. Lulling me into comfort, into those feathers. A loving, protective embrace—what I’ve always wanted in carnal moments like this.
And it’s not just here once.
I feel it twice.
“Just kissing,” I say in a single breath. “That’s all I’ve really done with someone.”
They nod, and they share another look. Maybe telling each other to be careful with me. Maybe just recognizing that being touched is big and new for me, and I want it. God, do I fucking want it and them and their hands and overpowering, tremendous, can-barely-breathe affection.
Banks blows his breath into his hand, warming it before he lets his palm travel down my inner-thigh. He pulls my thigh back against him. Akara does the same with my right thigh. They spread me open.
My heart beats loud in my ears, and Banks plants a soft kiss at my neck. Akara’s lips trail up my ribcage to my breast. His tongue teases my perked nipple. Fuck yes, yes, yes. They both knead the flesh at my thighs, near my heat but not satiating that spot. My need grows, and I writhe.
I squirm, feeling wetness gather. My back arches for them. Wanting more touch, more warmth, more emotion and feeling. No emptiness. No loneliness. No nothingness.
My hands have slipped off their dicks, and I go to reach for Banks’ head. Anything to hold onto. Swiftly, Akara snatches my wrist midair. Clutching it tight, he pulls my hand above my head.
Banks watches my lips as they part in an aroused breath. And then his warmed fingers slide underneath my panties. Yes.
And between my folds. Slowly, he slips a finger inside of me, pumping in a come hither motion. Feeling him there, the fullness, the pressure, the sensation—I dizzy and buck up again. He watches my movements like he’s studying my reaction, my arousal, and he discovers a sensitive spot, creating mind-altering friction—my legs twitch.
“Oh fuck,” I curse, about to cover my eyes but my wrist jerks in Akara’s hold. He keeps my arm pinned, and I drink in the way he has me. The way they have me so completely in their care. Being able to open myself and give myself to people I trust is more freeing than I ever realized.
I feel like I’m flying.
Like I’m powerful. In-fucking-vincible. Able to transcend time and place and reason.
Akara shifts his own hand off my thigh.
I have trouble trying to see Banks’ reaction and Akara’s. I try to watch both guys at once. My breath hitches as Akara moves his hand up to my pussy. They’re not both going inside me, are they? And then I feel his thumb circle my throbbing clit.
I moan.
Akara curses under his breath.
Banks picks up speed. My legs begin to tremble and sweat builds on my skin. Their kisses return—Akara focuses on my nipples, teasing and sucking. Banks closes his lips on the soft flesh of my neck, then up to my lips. Every sensitive bud, sensitive spot feels lit by these two men.
I’ve never drowned before today.
I’m drowning in them. By them. With them.
A whimper leaves me, and their groans rumble the air. Instinctively, I rock against Banks’ hand while he fills me. Thrusting into him and Akara. I want more pressure. I want my world to be set on fire. I want to forget everything that happened before this tent. I want there to be nothing but after this moment.
Reaching down with my only free hand, I touch the top of Akara’s hand. I touch Banks’ wrist, his fingers lost inside me. They both quicken speed suddenly like they’re racing each other.
“Fuckfuck,” I cry, so wet, almost there, almost there.
Pleasure mounts until my limbs quake, and my whole body tenses in a thundering climax. Toes curl and back arches even higher. I grip onto Banks’ wrist while Akara’s grip tightens on mine. An orgasm ripples through me, and they both slow their movements until I’m too sensitive to touch.
I try and catch my breath.
Banks kisses my lips in one beat.
Akara kisses my shoulder, then cheek in the next. “I’ll be back.” He releases my wrist, and I grab onto the first thing I can to stop him—which happens to be his hand between my thighs. His fingers brush against my palm, and they’re slick with my wetness.
Our eyes latch. “Don’t go,” I breathe.
Banks has a hand on my thigh still and he pats it. “We’ve got to take care of some things, mermaid.”
“I can take care of you both,” I say in a frown. “Don’t you want me to?”
“This was for you,” Akara refutes.
Banks nods more than once.
Maybe it’s a pride thing. They want to be sure this wasn’t all about their needs but solely about pleasing me. And I get that, but the sun has been down for a while. It’s freezing outside now. “You both can get off here, can’t you? Don’t run off into the cold. Please.”
Akara lets out a breath and sinks back down beside me. I don’t let go of his wrist. “You sure?” he asks.
“Fucking positive, Kits.” I glance to Banks. “You too.”
“Turn on your side,” Banks instructs and helps me roll onto my side. Back turned to Banks. Chest towards Akara. All of us lie underneath the sleeping bags, so I can’t see their movements. But I can feel them shift as they tug themselves.
Not seeing Banks stirs me even more. It feels forbidden, only kept safe in my imagination. I know he’s there jerking off, but I can’t even look at his face while he’s doing it. His building heat warms me beneath the sleeping bag.
I glance to Akara and then he does something unexpected.
He covers my eyes with his palm.
Can’t see him either.
Only hear their heavy breaths. Their grunts.
Feel the shifting of the sleeping bag.
I reach down and start touching myself. We’re all pleasure in this tent.
We’re all alive.
Breath. And body. And life.
26
SULLIVAN MEADOWS
“You need stitches,” Farrow doesn’t even hesitate with the diagnosis once he removes Akara’s bandages with gloved hands and sees the damage to his shoulder blade and elbow. “You should’ve called me last night.”