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  “Are you cold, dear Hanna?”

  “No, I’m very warm actually.” She stared down at Garrin, mesmerized by his darkening eyes. Lear took her earlobe between his teeth and bit down so gently she was almost unaware of the pressure until tiny pinpoints of near pain lit up the soft nub of flesh. His body was so big and steady next to hers she wanted to press herself against all of it.

  “Then in our roles as host, we must do all we can to provide you comfort.” With that, Garrin pushed the shirt up her legs until it bunched around her hips, leaving her charms exposed to him. Hanna couldn’t bring herself to tug it back down as she should. Instead, she allowed him to slowly part her legs and lean in between them while Lear nipped at her neck and cupped his hands under her breasts. The pull of the silk across her hard nipples was exquisite and she glanced down to see how they pushed up against the soft fabric. Garrin rose up and held his mouth over one and Lear squeezed her flesh gently, as if he was offering up a sweet to his mate. Hot breath tickled over her skin and she moaned in anticipation. Garrin glanced at her from under lowered lids, then extended his tongue to lap at her nipple. Pleasure surged through her and she parted her legs even wider as her cunny swelled.

  Suckling her nipple into the wet heat of his mouth, Garrin pulled at the taut flesh, the barrier of silk between them soon almost impossible to feel. Lear squeezed her tighter as he held her against his body, then ran his other hand down her side to slide over her hip, rucking up the nightshirt even farther. Garrin ministered to her other breast, then drew back, the wet fabric clinging and nearly translucent over her rounded flesh.

  “Would you care to remove this, if you are still too warm?” Lear lifted up the edge of the shirt and cool air made her heated skin prickle. She raised her arms and they soon had the garment lifted from her body, exposing her for their intent inspection. She could feel Lear’s hard erection against her back and a thrill filled her.

  “Hanna. I know we said we would only be intimate with you one time, and that should have been purged from your memory.” Garrin addressed her with great seriousness even as he rubbed his fingertips along her ankles and arches. She wondered why he was talking, why they weren’t going to the enormous bed now. “But it’s clear my mate failed to protect you in that way. Since you remember, and still seem pleased by our company, I would like to repeat the experience with you now. One more time.”

  The thought of repeating what they’d shared was alluring, but she couldn’t help the little ache of sadness that welled up when she knew she’d lose them again. She shivered from the stimulation of Lear’s gentle strokes along her sides, then started when Garrin drew up one of her feet and quite thoroughly sucked her toes into his hot mouth in turn. He nipped each as he withdrew it and she jumped with every compression. Her cunny flooded with heat and moisture. Realizing she might again have them made her heart shake. “Yes, please, but only if you don’t cast another spell on me. I want to remember everything.”

  Garrin narrowed his eyes and nodded once.

  “Very well.” Lear urged her to turn and she thought he was maneuvering her onto his lap, but she somehow found herself facedown in the cushions, her hips along Lear’s thighs and her bare buttocks raised in the air. Her tight nipples rubbed against the smooth wool covering the chair and she wriggled, unsure why the men wanted her in this position, or even what she could accomplish from here.

  A hand rubbed down her back, soon joined with another and she stretched, relishing the sensation of her muscles easing even as the friction of skin on skin made her warm. Someone touched the crease of her buttocks and she flinched, suddenly remembering how Garrin had so confidently massaged her rear hole while Lear had plunged deep in her cunny. He’d activated something she’d never known she possessed and for a breathless moment she wondered if they were going to penetrate her there, but the fingers merely delved further, stroking along the outer lips of her already wet sex. She huffed out a little pent-up breath and tried to spread her legs but a strong hand clamped down on her upper thighs and she could only wriggle.

  “So pretty. You make a beautiful picture, Hanna,” Lear said. The finger continued to inveigle its way farther into her most tender and private spaces and she let out a soft cry. “Garrin, do you wish to engage in coitus or merely tease her?”

  The finger, now identified as belonging to Garrin, slipped inside her tight channel and she cried out again, craning her head against the seat to see what was happening behind her. Over her shoulder she could see Lear’s hands sliding over her buttocks and Garrin kneeling on the floor, his eyes fixed on her cunny as he pumped his finger in and out of her aching body. He noticed her watching and stopped moving, leaving his crooked digit buried in her body. He smiled and she melted inside.

  “I believe our activities are entirely at Hanna’s discretion.”

  “Of course. She’s just so wonderful to touch I couldn’t restrain myself.” Lear cleared his throat as he ran his fingertips up her spine to thread them into the hair at the nape of her neck. She sighed with pleasure as he kneaded her scalp. “Hanna, are you sure you want to engage in relations with us again, before we return you to Arlentown?”

  “Yes.” Her mouth was dry and she gripped at the seat cushion as the men nodded. Garrin pulled his finger from her and rose.

  “Shall we try something here?” His question brought only a nod from her. She was too shaky and breathless to communicate more. What were they going to do? What they’d shared before was so exotic and satisfying she couldn’t even begin to speculate on what they might have planned this time. Garrin reached down and lifted at her hips, helping her rise until she stood with her back pressed to his chest, the cleft between her buttocks cradling his thick erection. They faced Lear, who remained seated on the wide chair. Garrin cupped his hands under her breasts and she watched as Lear removed his pale yellow tunic and unfastened his trousers to push them down his hips. His erect member sprang free and her mouth watered. Again she was struck by how finely formed he was. The glimpses she’d caught of human men’s penises hadn’t impressed her, but the elves were sturdy, pink, and smooth, the proud accoutrement of virile creatures.

  “Lean forward with your hands on either side of his hips.” Garrin helped her into position and she widened her stance to keep her balance as she lowered her head. Her hair swung down in an unruly wave. Lear gathered it up and pulled it to one side as he used his other hand to stroke up and down on his shaft that somehow managed to thicken before her eyes.

  Garrin moved behind her and she glanced back to see his trousers fall to the floor before he crowded his body close to hers again. His fingers slid along the slippery lips of her sex. She turned back to Lear, staring at his cock as she imagined Garrin’s pushing deep inside her.

  “If you care to, give Lear a kiss.”

  “How? I can’t reach his mouth when I’m bent over like this.” Her befuddlement was genuine. There was no way to twist her body to accommodate such a pleasant idea.

  “Kiss my staff. It rouses for you.” Lear’s request stunned her. She’d never imagined such a thing.

  “He likes it very much, I can assure you.” Garrin’s voice was husky as he played with her cunny, flicking his fingertips over the aching nub of her clitoris. What could it hurt? These men smelled and tasted so good, surely that part of him would be no different. Licking her lips, she brought her mouth close and inhaled the rich musk of his skin. Lear held the base of his cock and she hesitatingly pressed her mouth to the tip, the smooth swell of it teasing her to taste. She eased out her tongue and rubbed it along the underside and Lear closed his eyes and leaned back with a sigh. Emboldened by his apparent pleasure, she dared draw the rounded end into her mouth, finding the salty tang of his skin a delightful flavor.

  “That’s it, kiss him in that manner as he manages his length,” Garrin said with a rough edge in his voice. His warm, solid body pressed even closer as he ceased teasing her clit. Awareness filled her. They aimed to possess her at the same time
and she nearly cried aloud at the thought of it.

  ****

  Lear couldn’t control himself any longer. Watching as Garrin positioned himself behind Hanna as she leaned over was arousing in and of itself, but to experience her tentative laving of his straining prong at the same time was overwhelming. He wished he could move and exhibit some lovemaking skill toward his partners, but it was all he could do to sprawl on the chair, legs widespread as he clutched at Hanna’s hair while she sucked at the tip of his prong. The scent of arousal, both elvish and human, filled the air with a pungent tang of warmed skin and lubricating fluids. Hanna glanced up at him, her lips rubbing along the swollen sides of his crown and he smiled encouragement even as his heart pounded with excitement and growing tension.

  Garrin shifted his hands between her legs and the movements of her mouth grew erratic. Lear watched his mate as he leaned in, recognizing that look of strained concentration he assumed when he penetrated Lear. Hanna’s entire body shook as she struggled to accept the other man’s prong and her eyes widened. With a strained cry she pulled her mouth away from him and gasped for breath.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t—” She closed her eyes as if in agony and braced her shaking arms against the chair. With a quick move of his hips, Garrin withdrew and circled his arms around her as she straightened. She shuddered against his mate’s body and brought her hands up to her cheeks.

  “No, I want you. I just don’t think I can kiss Lear at the same time. I’m not sure what to do. I’m afraid I’ll blunder.” Her wide eyes stared at him, seeking a solution. She was obviously willing, but her inexperience was sapping her confidence. Lear strained for what to say to settle her, but struggled to find the right words. He was simply too aroused to think.

  “Come, my Hanna, let me show you what pleases him,” Garrin said as he stepped in front of Lear, his unattended prong bobbing as he lowered to his knees. His mate’s strong hands kneaded his thighs and Lear leaned his head back, ready for pleasure. Hanna soon joined his mate and watched avidly as Garrin stroked his staff a few times, rotating his hand as he moved it up and down. The friction was delightful and Lear reveled in that familiar, tightening tension radiating out from the base of his jutting staff. “There, you kiss while I stroke.”

  She bent her head to the task and her loosened hair fell over his thighs in a gentle tickle. His skin prickled as she licked and even dared draw him into her wet mouth a little. She drew back with an exhalation and Garrin nodded at her with an approving smile.

  “Now, you stroke while I attend to him.” Garrin’s instructions sent Lear’s heart pounding. Hanna’s small hand wrapped around his throbbing prong and his mate directed her to cup her other around his tightly drawn plums. As soon as she was positioned correctly, Garrin engulfed his member, his knowing tongue rapidly sweeping around the head and down the sensitive underside. After a few deep sucks Lear fancied he was bumping the back of his mate’s throat. The thrill of it was too much to restrain and he relented to his body’s demand for release. His breath heaved out of his laboring chest in a howl and his limbs tightened as the climax overtook him. Wave after wave of shocking pleasure surged through him as the full measure of his seed jetted from his body into Garrin’s willing mouth. Lear squinted to make out what Hanna did, hoping she was accepting of him even at this moment of extremis. She kept stroking, her eyes wide as she studied the spectacle. His mate eased his caress and turned to licking him clean as his ramrod twitched its final spasms.

  Dizziness whirled around his head as the warmth and triumph of his release weighted his limbs. Hanna released her hold on his softening member as Garrin sat back, a satisfied smile curving his beautiful lips. She rested her palm on his trembling thigh and gazed at him, also smiling.

  “Was that what you like?”

  He nodded, too replete to speak. She nodded once, then watched Garrin as his mate rose to his feet in a lithe motion. His swollen prong beckoned for care but Lear was too relaxed to attend. But he could certainly help them both.

  “Hanna, I would like to mount you again, if you’re willing.”

  She stood and wavered slightly, clearly aroused and clumsy with it. Lear reached out and motioned for her to lean over him in the chair, her torso across his lap. Her warm weight was welcome and he smoothed her tangled hair from her shoulders as she turned her head his way, a dreamy smile on her lips as her lids half closed over her darkened eyes. She was completely in thrall to the experience and Lear’s heart leapt to know she was in the trustworthy hands of his mate.

  Garrin again crowded his hips against the smooth globes of her buttocks, his straining prong anxious to make that most primitive union. He lifted Hanna’s hips until her knees were planted on the wide, soft arm of the chair and her sex was at the perfect height for him. Lear watched as his mate took his prong in hand and guided it to Hanna’s quim.

  ****

  Garrin wanted his thoughts to gather on the pleasure to come, but even as he gently stroked the slick folds of Hanna’s charms, a niggling worry intruded. They shouldn’t be doing this. They shouldn’t be making love to her again. It was dangerous and foolish and was sure to result in disaster. But the scent of her body, the smoothness of her skin, and the lingering flavor of his mate’s seed all combined to force him to step close to Hanna, to press his thighs to hers even as he aligned his prong to the dimple of her opening. She trembled at the touch and let out a breathless beg.

  “Please, Garrin, I can’t stop—”

  She let out a choked cry and Lear roused from his lethargy to rub her back in soothing motions. “Pleasure her, Garrin. Why do you hesitate?”

  Why did he, indeed? When he glanced down and saw Hanna’s pale body sprawled over Lear’s relaxed form, saw how his mate stroked her cheek and she closed her eyes in response; that was all that mattered. Them pleasing each other. With that resolution, he pressed deep inside her willing body, the tightness against his aching prong a welcome friction. A dreamy smile lit up her face and she gripped the fabric covering the chair even as she rocked her hips back toward him. The rhythm she aimed for was perfect and he allowed his body to follow along, willing himself to remain firm and strong for as long as she needed. She was soon panting and a fine sheen of perspiration gathered wherever their skin met. Lear caressed her body and praised her in elvish and human tongues. The sensation of being within her and knowing he was contributing to her passion was more fulfilling than he’d allowed himself to imagine.

  Her groaning breaths transformed to short pants and she murmured unintelligibly, her fingers digging into the chair. Garrin adjusted his position and the change brought even more stimulation to his prong. His skin flushed. All his muscles tightened and he knew he was close, closer than she. “Lear, help her, please.”

  His strained request brought his mate to action and he ceased kneading Hanna’s soft buttocks to slide his hand between her legs. Her back arched immediately and she clenched down on his thrusting ramrod. Heat built in his groin and he felt his plums tighten along with what seemed like every nerve in his body. With a groan, he gripped her round hips and buried his prong within her as his seed erupted from him. Lights sparked in the corners of his vision as jolts of ecstasy powered through his limbs. Hanna wailed and shuddered as Lear stroked her lullo and kissed her shoulder.

  Breathing as hard as if he’d been on the wild hunt for an hour and a night, Garrin bent over Hanna’s back, kissing the damp skin between her shoulder blades as she gasped. Lear leaned forward and managed to nuzzle his arm. Garrin spared his mate a glance. Lear smiled, his contentment clear to see. Hanna shifted under him and he was suddenly aware of their awkward position. He was glad to be so close to her and Lear, but she was likely getting sore. With regret he leaned away and his prong slid free of her, coated with the fluids marking their union. An inappropriate union. Despite his satiation, worry crept in. This was not a relationship that could continue, no matter how much it pleased them. He’d told them both it would be the last time and he had to ho
ld them to that, no matter how much he longed for more.

  He braced Hanna as she moved her bent limbs and waited until she’d curled up in Lear’s waiting arms before leaving them to collect the materials he’d need to clean them all. If only it would be so easy to mend the situation they’d become embroiled in. Before he could take two steps, the floor shuddered beneath his feet. Hanna raised her head from Lear’s shoulder and glanced around.

  “Was that me?”

  Lear chuckled. “You are incredibly sensual, but even that movement was beyond your abilities. It was merely the wind, shifting the house.”

  “But how…” She furrowed her brow and rose from the chair to rush to a window. Garrin watched her breasts and buttocks bounce but despite the distraction, worry intruded. What if that wasn’t merely the wind? What if that was some spying Zephyr or snooping supernatural creature? Worry over their ill-advised alliance filled him and he realized he would have to take great pains to secret Hanna away later. Lear watched her from the chair, an indulgent smile on his lips. Garrin made his way to her side, not liking how much he enjoyed seeing her curved form silhouetted in their window. She wouldn’t be there tomorrow, or the next day, no matter how much it would please him or his mate.

  He touched her warm and soft shoulder and she turned, her eyes alight. “We’re up in a tree!”

  “That’s right. It’s a fine oak, filled with good intentions. I like to think she is proud to support our home and protect us through storms.”

  Hanna’s small hand slid up his arm as she leaned his way, pressing her body to his as she peered out the window panes. “She? It’s a girl tree?”