Scandal - COMPLETED

Chapter Thirty-Nine

That thought fled a moment later when I thrusted upward with a bit more force and my ribs screamed in protest. Henry must have seen me wince, for he slowed his movements and held my hip in place with his other hand.

"Lay still, Kit," he said, the words full of command.

A frisson of lust chased the order. While John and I both craved the chance to cede control to him, I had no scruples about rendering myself vulnerable to the larger man, and I went utterly motionless beneath the men.

I opened my eyes again to see Henry nodding.

"Good," he said.

He continued to stroke in and out of me even as he leaned over and snatched the oil from the nightstand. I expected him to pop it open and coat me in it, but instead he set it on the sheets beside my hips. Then he leaned down, pressed his lips to my clit, and I was lost to my pleasure. God, how I wanted to shift my hips and thread my fingers through John's soft, golden hair, but more than that I wanted to lay here and let them bring me to completion on their own.

Between my thighs, Henry let out a hungry groan and plunged two fingers inside of me. I had to fight the urge to arch into him. What was worse was the struggle to keep my feet planted and my knees where they were instead of clamping my legs around him.

Was this heaven, or hell? Four hands plied my flesh, two tongues chased after my pleasure. Every nerve in my body had come to life, sparking like a million tiny fuses on the verge of catching fire. From everything I'd heard, heaven was far too tame to offer such earthly delights, so if this was hell, then I would gladly join the legions of the damned.

My breaths turned into gasps. My clitoris throbbed beneath Henry's tongue.

I nearly moaned when he pulled his finger all the way out of me. Cold air rushed over my heated flesh as his lips left my mound. I blinked my eyes open to see him reach for the oil.

"Ready?" he asked, lust turning his voice into a deep, base growl.

"Yes," I told him.

John lifted his head from my breast to watch Henry pour oil into his palm. He paused to heat it between his hands, then he slicked his fingers through it and dropped them to the cleft between my cheeks.

John's fingers tripped down over my stomach and then stroked through my low curls before taking up position where Henry's lips had just been. Henry loomed between my legs, large and brutally handsome. Muscles rolled as he reached out and slicked one large finger back into my cunt.

"Close your eyes," John whispered. "And relax."

It was only when he spoke the words that I realized I had tensed up. One of my banned books had gone into great detail about the pleasures of the anus, but what stuck out to me now was the mention that more training was needed to accept a man there than inside a cunt. For the life of me, I couldn't remember all of the details.

"Will it hurt?" I asked, doing as John instructed.

"Not if we do this slowly," he answered.

It took me several more moments to fully relax. In that time, John's fingers stroked my clit, Henry plied my cunt, and John's tongue tormented one nipple and then the other with an expertise that soon had me gasping again.

Only then did I feel the slight pressure between my cheeks, but I was too far gone with pleasure to tense up this time. And then Henry's finger began pushing inside my other entrance.

I had expected it to hurt. It didn't, not really, but I would never describe it as a comfortable sensation. My muscles clenched around him, resisting penetration. It felt like my body was a hairsbreadth away from actively trying to expel him.