At first I go gently, trying to understand the shape and fit of him inside my mouth. It’s difficult to concentrate when Leon’s cock is thrusting into me, hitting me in secret places that make my body tremble. I experiment by suckling the tip of Tarek’s cock, swirling my tongue around him. Tarek’s fingers tighten in my hair, which I take as a positive sign. His feedback grows confidence within me, and I start to slide my mouth down as much of his cock I can take, my hand making up the difference at the base.
As I ride Leon and suck Tarek, we develop a natural rhythm. Somehow we move in tandem, like a well-oiled machine, and I wonder if we’re in sync with some sort of natural beat of the universe.
All of a sudden, Tarek jams his fingers against the back of my head, trapping me in place until all I see and feel and smell is cock. I whine at the back of my throat. He begins to pound into my mouth at a pace I can’t follow, until Leon looks up at him sharply and says, “Don’t. She is not one of your whores.”
Tarek backs off, but I keep sucking him with the fury he wants. It’s messy with spit and my teeth sting him a couple of times, making him hiss, but his fingers begin to massage my scalp.
He pulls my hair up a couple of times, like warning signs. But I’m distracted because suddenly I have lips caressing my back and shoulders. Kisses rain down the side of my neck. A tongue slides across my left nipple. I can’t look down, but I can tell it’s Seth and Conor. Before I can make sense of it, their lips meet at the juncture of my neck and I hear the soft noise of kissing.
As Leon slams his hips into me and I grind down on him, colors begin to prickle my vision. My heart is beating wildly fast — I feel wild, a wild thing unleashed by all of them. And suddenly a spike — a peak — and with it an explosion, until I’m coming without breathing, clinging desperately to Leon, my mouth frozen on Tarek’s cock, kisses and licks and slurps sliding across my skin.
My cunt spasms, tightening around Leon’s cock, until he roars aloud and a flood of warmth fills me.
With the fury of our orgasms comes Tarek’s release, hot and heavy in my mouth. He staggers, pressing down on mine and Leon’s heads, gripping our hair like he can’t let go, then sinks to his knees, his cock slipping from my mouth, stroking down my chin and chest as he collapses against our bodies.
My mouth is full of his silken come. It’s so thick I don’t have it in me to either spit or swallow, but the world has become so lust-hazy that I do the first thing I think of and kiss Leon. Startled, Leon tries to pull away, but somehow my kiss compels him to stay. I swish my tongue in Tarek’s come, swirling it in my mouth and into Leon’s. Leon passes it back to me, thinner, slicker, like water — and like water, I drink.
Together, we collapse in front of the fireplace — sweaty, naked, and entwined.
21. KAT
LIQUID TRICKLES IN the back of the room, the sound of it twitching me awake. I find myself naked but covered in the warm and welcoming arms of men, and it takes me a moment to organize my thoughts. Memories from the evening begin to register and slowly my mouth falls open. Did... Did that really happen? Me and — everyone? I glance down. Seth’s hand tightens around my middle, as though laying furious claim to it. Conor is snuggled against Seth’s back, looking peaceful, and Leon’s abnormally tousled head is nestled on my shoulder. Heat from the fireplace licks across my beaming face; I am so comfortable here on the floor with the guys that I never want to leave.
In the future, I will close my eyes and remember this moment forever.
But then there’s that pouring noise again, and with it the clink of glass on a stone surface. With a forlorn sigh, I begin to peel away from my puddle of affection and extricate myself as gently as possible from their tight hugs.
Tarek sits on the armchair Conor was using earlier. He swirls a glass of amber liquid in his hand. A heavy bottle of something dark and serious-looking stands on the table in front of him.
“Hey.” My voice is quiet in the dark, though it sounds loud to my ears.
He turns his head and a slow, soft smile widens across his face. “Princess.” He nods to the bottle. “You want a drink?”
I shake my head. “I’m fine, thank you.” I look at him hesitantly. His words aren’t slurred and he seems lucid, but he makes for quite a sight. Tarek is wearing a silken black robe and appears completely naked beneath it. The existence of alcohol in his hand is a new and quite breathtaking accessory, too.
“I, um... I didn’t know you drank.”
He gives me a measured look. “I don’t,” he says quietly, and then takes a mouthful of the amber liquid.
I pad over to Tarek, sensing an overwhelming sadness. “What is it?” I don’t know which I mean more: what he’s drinking or his reasons for it.
Tarek goes for the former. “Whiskey.” He takes another swallow. “Don’t tell anyone, but I don’t think I have the stomach for it.”
I settle down beside his feet, determined not to judge him. Instantly, he plants his palm on my head and begins to play with my hair. Flashbacks from our time together hit me square in the chest and I nuzzle into his touch.
“Did you not sleep?” I ask, concerned.
He shrugs. “I had a nightmare. Couldn’t sleep after that, so I thought I might as well celebrate our demise.” He raises his glass into the air. “Cheers.”
I lower my eyes, not sure what to say.
“Sorry, Princess, I’ve just realized you must be freezing,” he says, briefly rattled enough to leave his slumped position on the armchair. “Would you like my robe?”
Instead, I shake my head. I’ve become quite used to the freedom of nudity and the entertaining effect it appears to have on men.
“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Tarek asks, his voice flaring with surprise passion as he gazes at me. “You’re so perfect and wonderful, and the most beautiful possible distraction throughout all this. I’m so thankful for last night. Tonight. Whatever night. It was incredible.”
“Me too,” I whisper, not quite trusting my voice to remain steady, as though to waver in my words would be to give away just how badly I want him — want all of them.
“You don’t deserve any of this MCM shit.” He takes a hard gulp of his whiskey, draining it, then refills it automatically. “You don’t deserve to be dragged down with us.”
I don’t feel dragged down. I’m in a luxury hotel suite on another continent with what is still the biggest boy band on the planet, and I’ve just had the most mind-blowing sex with them. Compared to life as a person who lugs someone else’s camera equipment around Colorado, this is beyond unimaginable.
But I guess when you were already on top of the world, like these guys have been for several years, you see things a bit differently.
Delicately, I return the bottle of alcohol to the minibar at the side of the room, as well as Tarek’s empty glass. He doesn’t notice, too busy staring at my naked body instead as it weaves between the various expensive-looking items of furniture. If I don’t get rid of the alcohol, I know he’ll beat himself up over his lapse in the morning.
I return to my seated position next to his feet. With Tarek more loose-lipped than I’ve ever known, I find myself unable to resist asking him something that’s been preying on my mind.