Bianca clears her throat, her cheeks flushing even pinker than they already were.

“It’s very relaxing,” she says, suddenly nervous.

“I believe it,” Beckett says, a smirk around his lips. “I’m always more relaxed after I come, too.”

Her mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, her hand tight around the closure of the towel, and she glances at me desperately.

“What?” she whispers.

“I said, I’m always more relaxed after I get myself off,” Beckett says, a cocky confidence in his voice. “Though the thing I don’t understand is... why didn’t you ask for help?”

Her eyes flick from him, to me, to him again.

“We are here at your beck and call, Princess,” I say, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “Anything you might need, we’re happy to do for you.”

Bianca shoves a hand through her thick, dark hair, taking another deep breath like she’s trying to gather her nerve to say something, but keeps faltering.

“Or, if you’re having trouble asking,” Beckett says, sauntering toward her. “We could try offering and you could just say yes.”

He takes one hand, pulls her into the kitchen, and she trips lightly after him. Somehow, her towel stays on, even as he twirls her once, like they’re dancing and stops her as she’s facing me, his hands on her shoulders.

Over her head, his eyes are smoldering, flicking up to mine once, then back down to hers, and I understand the meaning exactly.

He’s saying this is our chance.

This is the only way we can have her.

“For example,” I say, stepping forward. “I could help you out of this damp towel.”

I place one finger in the hollow of her throat, lower it slowly. Just touching her like this sets a shower of sparks off across my skin, every nerve coming alive.

Bianca doesn’t answer, but her breathing quickens. Her eyelashes flutter, and Beckett’s hands slide down her arms.

“You have to say yes,” I murmur, getting even closer. “I know you know what you’re getting into, Princess.”

She gasps, softly, my lips inches from hers. Beckett puts one hand in her hair, sliding his fingers through it, and she tilts her head back slightly.

“One little word,” he murmurs, bending closer to her ear, his lips brushing it.

She gasps again.

“Three little letters,” he whispers.

Bianca swallows.

Her eyes drift shut.

“Yes,” she finally whispers.

I crush my mouth against hers, unable to stop myself. She tastes like cherry lip balm and vanilla and a little like the chlorine of the hot tub as I press harder against her, pushing her lips open with my own, swiping my tongue along her bottom lip.

Bianca moans into my mouth, so quietly I can barely hear it, but the vibrations are unmistakable. I take it as an invitation to slide my tongue past her teeth and find hers, wrestling her, pushing her back against Beckett’s thick, hard body.

When I let her go, Bianca’s panting for breath, her chest heaving below the towel. Beckett’s got a hand in her hair, and he pulls her head to the side, leaning over, claiming her mouth as well.

I flick my finger under the towel, untucking the corner, and it falls around her feet. Bianca gasps and Beckett growls, her white neck long with her head tilted upward, so I bite it.

She makes a noise, and at the same time I run my hands up her body, starting at her hips, skimming her warm, slightly damp skin until I’m at her full breasts, her pink nipples between my fingers.

She moans. I bite her neck again, harder this time, squeeze her nipples as I caress them, anything to hear that noise. I keep biting, sucking, her skin tasting slightly of chlorine but warm and luscious, just what I’d imagined.

I suck one nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it. I run my teeth over the pebbled surface, and I want to bite her, make her cry out in half-pleasure, half-pain, make her gasp and whimper and tangle her hands in my hair, but I don’t.

Not yet. Even though I can already smell how bad she wants this, her scent pungent in my nose, Bianca’s a virgin. Untouched. That sort of thing is for later.

“Did it make you wetter knowing we were watching?” Beckett growls.

Now I’m on my knees in front of her, sliding my teeth from a nipple. Her knees go weak for a moment, but Beckett catches her.

I put my hands around her hips, steadying her as well.

“I didn’t think you could see me,” she moans, leaning back into him.

I press my lips against her belly, dip my tongue into her bellybutton. Beckett grabs her hand and pulls it behind her.

“Feel that?” he asks as I bite her on the hip. “We were watching every second, Princess. Just like you wanted us to.”

I’m panting for breath, my face right in front of her thighs. She’s so wet that I can see her juices shining on her upper thighs, trickling down the inside, her scent enrapturing.

“Did knowing we were watching you make you this wet?” I ask her, slipping one finger between her legs, my lips against her mound as I speak. “Did you wish we were fucking you when you came in the hot tub?”

She moans again, whispers something that I’m nearly positive is yes.

“Tell me how you get yourself off,” I say, my lips still brushing against her.

“With my fingers,” she whispers.

I find the soaking wet edges of her lips, tease them. I’m just barely brushing against her swollen clit, and she shudders, still sensitive.

“Do you rub this?” I ask, circling one finger around her clit.

My toes curl with the desire to suck it into my mouth, make her pant and moan and scream, but I resist.

“Or,” Beckett says, his voice rumbling from above. “Do you fuck yourself?”

His hand invades her too, one finger sliding along her swollen, needy pussy.

“Maybe you do both,” I suggest.

“Sometimes,” she whispers.

It’s all either of us need. I flick my tongue out, over her swollen clit, at the same time that Beckett slides one thick finger into her pussy, and Bianca responds like she’s been electrified, her body jolting and jerking.

I grab her knee, bend it, push it over my shoulder so I can hold her up and we can both have better access.

“Is this what you thought about when you got yourself off?” Beckett growls, one hand fucking her, the other hand holding her up. “Both of us pleasuring you at the same time, my hand in your pussy and his mouth on your clit?”

I suck her into my mouth, flick my tongue across her lightly. Bianca cries out, grabs my hair, practically shoving my face into her.

Beckett just chuckles. I flick my tongue again.

“That’s another yes,” he says, and I can feel him add another finger to her, just from the ripple it sends through her body.

Now she’s panting even harder for breath, her clit throbbing in my mouth, her juices running down Beckett’s hand and down my chin. I suck them in, drinking her sweet honey, teasing her right toward the very edge.

Beckett adds one more finger, and with my mouth on her clit I can feel how full she is right now. She moans at the sensation, the sound turning into a whimper halfway through. I reach a hand up to her nipples, and I pinch one, Beckett the other.

“Is this how you wanted to come?” he asks her.

I suck harder at her, my tongue flicking faster, Beckett’s fingers sunk deep into her pussy.

“Getting shared by the two of us, you dirty girl?”

Bianca just pants, moans. I don’t think she can even talk right now.

“We’re just getting started, Princess,” he growls. “We’ve both thought long and hard about all the ways we’re going to fuck you until you scream our names.”

He pushes deeper, and I lap at her faster. Her body is tight, taut, like a rubber band about to snap.

“So why don’t you come like you want to?” Beckett says, and that’s all it takes.

Bianca’s hand in my hair clenches, every muscle in her body going rigid as she cries out with her orgasm. It rocks through her body, nearly knocking her over, but I keep licking and sucking at her while she moans and whimpers, desperate to get every last drop of pleasure that I can from the girl right now.

Gradually, her body stops clenching, stops rocking. Her breathing evens out, and after one final swipe at her clit, I move back onto my heels and look up at her, still licking honey off my lips.

“You like being shared, Princess?” I ask.