Page 33 of Altius (The Scent of Victory #2)
Hips working in tandem, hands constantly teasing and petting, showering him with endless praise, and the occasional filthy endearment from Joaquin, we spurred Alijah higher and higher.
“No,” Alijah whined, “not yet—not so fast… I don’t want to… Morgan needs to first—”
Despite his protests, his climax was inevitable.
Bearing down on him, I milked Alijah for all he was worth.
Joaquin increased his speed, pounding Alijah so hard he would have hit the headboard without the anchor of my weight, then came with a roar.
But he wasn’t done.
“Stay,” he said, the rasp in his voice as compelling as a bark. “Don’t move.”
After pulling out and dropping Alijah’s leg, Joaquin crossed to the bedside table, tossing his spent condom into the trash. His still-hard cock bobbed against his stomach.
Unlike his overbearing brows and hawkish nose, nothing about his cock was too much. It wasn’t as intimidating as Cal’s, as thick as Wyatt’s, or as long as Alijah’s—but it had a characteristically wicked curve upward that made me weak with anticipation.
Picking up the bottle of lube lying on the edge of the bed, Joaquin uncapped it as he walked, slicking up his erection even as he returned to his position between our legs. The bottle fell onto the mattress by my knee.
Then Joaquin’s hand settled at the base of my neck, pushing my upper body forward, while keeping me on my knees. I had no choice but to let go of Alijah’s thigh.
Joaquin wasn’t satisfied until my chest was pressed flush with Alijah’s. The short skirt of my robe slid down, dropping around my waist, revealing my ass and aching core.
With a firm hold on my hips, Joaquin ordered, “Hold her still.”
No sooner had Alijah wrapped his arms around my shoulders than Joaquin plundered me. From behind, his size was more overwhelming than it looked, but that curve…
I moaned against Alijah’s neck, unable to resist the pleasure Joaquin sent ricocheting through me at a punishing pace.
His knot began to swell, applying pressure against my clit with every thrust. But it wasn’t quite enough.
“Touch her,” Joaquin told Alijah, pausing until his mate’s hand slipped between our bodies, fumbling for contact. “Here.”
Two sets of fingers pressed against my clit. Joaquin guided Alijah for a few passes until he established a steady rhythm, which Joaquin matched when he resumed fucking me.
“That’s it, babe. She likes that. Just like that… Good.”
Joaquin’s fingers dug into my hips as his thrusts became sharper, more targeted, until his knot pushed into me, followed by hot spurts of cum, knocking the air out of my chest.
Gasping against the skin of Alijah’s neck, inhaling mouthfuls of sweat-tinged orange marmalade, I was trapped, unable to resist the pressure building within me, made even worse by the fingers still stroking my clit, and the dense, pulsing knot choking my pussy.
Joaquin was good. I had to give it to him.
It was only after he had me knotted that I realized it was a submissive position. Another one of his bad ideas. Probably just wanted to see if I’d let him get away with it.
And now I was stuck like this for who knows how long, unable to kiss either of them.
Maybe I should bite Joaquin’s tongue while I was at it—so he couldn’t charm his way into another compromising position.
A whine started low in my throat.
“Shh,” Joaquin whispered, thumb digging into the junction of my shoulder, keeping me locked in position. “We’ve got you.”
“Can’t see you,” I protested.
Alijah’s hands immediately shifted, brushing the hair away from my face and raining kisses along my hairline. “Let her up.”
Joaquin complied, running his hands along my back and the sweat-slicked robe. “Want to keep this on?”
“Fuck no.”
They got me naked in a flash. Alijah stared at my breasts but refrained from any additional contact.
“Now what?” he asked.
“You move to the side,” Joaquin said. “I’ll handle the rest.”
A few deft maneuvers later, Joaquin’s back rested against my pillows and headboard, with me settled between his legs, thighs draped over his, spreading me wide for Alijah’s benefit.
He was staring again, black eyes growing glassier by the second.
“Well, well,” Joaquin murmured in my ear. “Looks like this position is a winner.”
He tilted my head back, slanting those scheming lips of his against mine for an overdue, pepper-laced kiss, hands coming up to caress my breasts.
Sprawled between our legs, Alijah gave my clit a tentative lick—his treatment of me totally at odds with how boldly he cupped Joaquin’s balls, refusing to let him off easy.
But our beta had learned a few crafty lessons from his mate, and their tandem ministrations soon had me seeing stars.
“See, doc,” Joaquin purred in my ear with a maddening flex of his knot. “We could be so good for you.”
I came twice before they relented—and Joaquin’s knot finally subsided.
Well and truly drained, I didn’t resist when Joaquin scooped me up, carrying me into the bathroom.
Alijah hurried past, showing off his tight ass as he bent over the bathtub, adjusting the taps to the perfect temperature.
Leaning against the vanity, Joaquin was content to hold me, purring softly and nuzzling my hair until the bath satisfied Alijah’s standards.
“Stay with her,” Alijah said, taking my everyday fuzzy bathrobe from the hook by the shower and putting it on. Stupidly adorable little thief.
His shirt was mine now. Well, it would be as soon as I gathered enough strength to get out of the tub.
“I’m going to fix breakfast,” Alijah said as he hurried off.
Joaquin carefully deposited me into the water. “You all right for a minute?”
I nodded, closing my eyes and letting the restorative warmth wash over me. He reappeared wearing jeans, carrying a tumbler of water and a container of grapes, with Alijah’s shirt draped over his arm.
“If you want your prize,” he said, sitting on the bench beside the tub, “you have to finish the water. The grapes are to tide you over. Don’t know why he thought French toast was a good idea.”
“Worth it.” I opened my mouth, accepting the straw for a few mouthfuls of water, eyes fixed on the polo shirt.
A girl could get used to this kind of pampering—a different girl—but even I could pretend for a few minutes.