He leaned over my face, sniffing loudly along my skin. “Fear makes the meat taste better,” he said in a voice that held an edge of growl. When he raised his face, his eye had changed to lion amber. He let a trickle of growl slide out from between his human lips. I trusted him utterly, but the game was to be afraid in that safe roller-coaster-ride way, so I didn’t fight that moment of terror that thrilled through my body. It was instinctive, hardwired into that primitive part of the brain that remembered what a growl like that meant against the skin of your throat.
Sin crawled across the bed from the right side of us. He lowered his head and sniffed the air near me. “She’s never afraid of me like this.”
“You don’t know how to be scary yet,” Nicky said.
The weight was suddenly crushing and I said, “Too heavy.”
Jean-Claude appeared over Nicky’s shoulder and I realized I was pinned under their combined weight. If Nicky hadn’t been raised just a little above my chest, they might have been heavy enough to keep me from breathing. I managed to say, “If we were fucking this would be fun, but it’s just heavy now.”
Jean-Claude laid his head on Nicky’s shoulder, settling even more of his weight on top of the other man and on me. “Nicky, do you want to be inside her when I feed?”
“Yes, let me make her come at least once before you feed, because once you do I won’t last.”
“As you like,” Jean-Claude said; he smiled down at me and then slid out of sight, but I could tell by the weight that he wasn’t on top of Nicky anymore. Nicky was free to move his body enough for me to feel that he could pretend for Cynric that he was into sex with Jean-Claude, but some things couldn’t be faked. He wasn’t completely soft, but he wasn’t that eager hardness that he usually was when we got to this point. I expected him to change positions, or ask for a hand or maybe a mouth from me, but he didn’t. He moved his hips so that I had the choice of spreading my legs or him grinding himself into my pelvis. I wanted to make love to him, so I helped. By the time he’d settled himself between my legs, he was harder than he had been just seconds before, but still not hard enough. With most men, if they weren’t hard when they started, you needed to back up and do some more foreplay, but Nicky raised himself on those amazing arms, his upper body rising above me so that I caressed my hands along all that hard work in the gym carved into the body above me. I gazed down the line of his body past the ridged hardness of his stomach until I could see that part of him that he was pushing against me. Even only partially erect, the sight of it tightened my body, and I threw my head back with a small cry so that I was suddenly staring up into his face.
His hair had spilled forward so I could see all of his face. There was no way for him to hide. The first time I’d seen him like this he’d ducked his head and let his hair fall back in front of his scars, but now he just looked at me bold as brass, his face and that one blue eye so confident, so Nicky, now that he knew that I wouldn’t look away or flinch. He wasn’t going to see anything in my face except how much I wanted him.
He smiled down at me and began to push his hips as if he were already inside me. It made that part of his body rub against my opening and other things. I could feel him growing harder, bigger, and the sensation of it drew small, eager sounds from me, so that I raised my hips to meet him, but he was still not quite hard enough. He put all his weight on one arm and reached down to use his hand to angle the crown inside me. I almost protested, but as soon as the head penetrated I couldn’t speak for just a second and he was already pushing himself in and out of me. With every thrust he grew firmer, longer, until he was as hard as he needed to be to start fucking me. We made love, but I made love with all my men. Nicky liked to fuck; there was no other word for what we both enjoyed together. He drove himself in and out of me fast and faster, driving himself deep so that he hit every sweet spot inside me over and over and over again. If Jean-Claude hadn’t been with us Nicky would have pinned my wrists and made it rougher, but that didn’t work for my raven-haired fiancé. So I got to look down the long line of Nicky’s body and watch his body work in and out of mine, until in between one stroke and another I orgasmed, screaming my pleasure into his face. It startled him, I think, but he kept his rhythm so the orgasm built and fed into another one and another. I gripped his arms where he held himself above me, and if it had been most of my other lovers I would have raked my nails down his arms, but we’d had this discussion before so that even while I screamed my pleasure I didn’t forget that some night soon he’d be in charge of me and if I bled him now he’d bleed me later. I didn’t like being bled during sex any more than he did. Well, except for one type of bloodletting.
Nicky’s voice was clear, but full of the effort he was putting into fucking me and not going himself. “Jean-Claude, feed now. I’m not going to last much longer.”
Jean-Claude came up behind him again, but this time their combined weight only pushed against Nicky’s hips, burying him deeper inside me, which made me cry out again. Nicky shuddered above me, eye closing for a moment, and then he said, “Do it, Jean-Claude.”
Jean-Claude smoothed Nicky’s yellow hair to one side to bare the strong, thick line of his neck. He whispered in French against Nicky’s hair, and I felt some tension go out of Nicky. He was still thick and hard inside me, still holding that impossibly muscular chest up off me on the swell and curve of his arms, but I knew the vampire was inside his head now. Jean-Claude raised his head. “Are you ready, mon lionne?” he whispered.