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Looking at me as if I’m a miracle.

And I feel like one.

Z’leni undresses next, his emerald green skin glinting. He has tattoos that I’ve not seen. They aren’t black, like I’d expect, but silvery markings that glint in the daylight, like veins of light through polished stone.

Ryatuv follows, his dusky gold scales catching the sunlight, a fierce, wild contrast to the Urr’ki’s elegance. They are so different—warrior and sentinel, flame and shadow—but in this moment they are united in purpose.

Me.

They pause, eyes locked—and my stomach knots.

Z’leni glances at Ryatuv’s exposed cock and he makes a dismissive grunt. Ryatuv’s cock is thinner than Z’leni, but he has the wavy ridges that all Zmaj have, layering back towards his pelvis.

Z’leni is thicker, prominent veins along both sides. A beautiful rich emerald color, a deeper shade than the rest of him. As the tension builds anew I do the only thing I can think of.

I reach for them.

Grabbing their cocks, I pull their attention back where it belongs. To me.

Z’leni lowers himself, stretching beside me, his hand slipping between my thighs with exquisite gentleness. His fingers stroke, explore, tease. I gasp, curling into him as warmth spreads and pools, as need curls through my core.

Ryatuv comes behind, cradling my back to his chest, one large hand splayed over my heart, enclosing my breast. His other hand moves in tandem with Z’leni’s, echoing his touch, learning me with the same reverence.

I arch between them, every nerve alight. Every inch of me known.

“You’re trembling,” Ryatuv murmurs into my ear.

“I’m overwhelmed,” I whisper, shuddering as another shock wave of pleasure races across my body.

“Good,” Z’leni says. “Let us overwhelm you.”

He shifts lower, lips trailing down my stomach, down further still until his mouth replaces his hand. My thighs fall open. I cry out, unable to stop myself, as his tongue lavishes my pussy and Ryatuv holds me tighter.

Their hands roam, working together, never rushing. Z’leni feasts like he’s starving, and I feel Ryatuv hard and eager behind me. The rumble of his pleasure vibrates through his chest.

When I teeter on the edge, Z’leni slows. Ryatuv kisses my temple.

“We’re not done,” Ryatuv says softly.

Z’leni rises to his knees. His eyes are molten, burning with desire and his breathing is shallow. “We want to take you together.”

The words send a shiver down my spine.

“Please,” I whisper, ready and oh so willing.

Ryatuv positions me carefully, reverently, pulling me into his lap. I straddle him, knees sinking into the sand. His hands grip my hips as Z’leni kneels behind me, brushing hair from my neck, pressing a kiss to the nape.

He pauses, only for a moment, and retrieves a small bottle from our packs. Opening it, an aromatic perfume touches my senses. He pours a bit of the bottles contents into the palm of his hand then strokes it along his cock, making it gleam brightly in the suns.

“Tell us if anything hurts,” he murmurs, voice like velvet drawn over steel. “We’ll stop. Always.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” I breathe. “I want all of you.”

Ryatuv guides himself into me first—slow, steadily, filling me in a way that makes my eyes flutter shut. I moan against his shoulder, hands clutching his arms. When the first ridge reaches my entrance he pauses, letting my body adjust.

I breathe through, then he presses and it feels as if it pops in, expanding me, hitting nerves that have never been awakened before now. I gasp in pleasure.

He’s thick and warm and so familiar it breaks something in me. My body accepts him like it’s always belonged to him.