A s Xenia’s words floated through the space between them, Simon said nothing.
He stood silently, but his gaze told her volumes.
He offered no grandiose declaration or boastful retort.
Instead, there was an unspoken promise shimmering within his steady look, one of passion held in careful reserve.
She shivered, hungry for what he seemed to offer.
He stepped closer with deliberate poise, the distance between them shrinking in an instant. He moved with precision. The air seemed to thicken, charged with anticipation and something more—something raw and unnamed that pulsed just beneath their practiced facade of playful banter.
As Simon leaned in, his approach was neither hesitant nor brash, but assuredly gentle, a firmness underlying his tenderness.
His hand pressed against the small of her back, drawing her imperceptibly nearer.
His lips brushed against hers, a contact so soft it may have been mistaken for a whisper had it not been for the warmth that radiated from the touch.
Xenia felt a surge of heat uncoil within her, spreading outwards to every extremity.
Her pulse quickened, her heart beating a fevered rhythm against her ribs.
The sensation of his lips, firm yet pliant against her own, sent a cascade of shivers down her spine, awakening every nerve ending with a keen sense of awareness.
Lost in the moment, she experienced the subtle dance of pressure and retreat, the ebb and flow of a kiss promising far more than mere skill.
The world seemed to hush around her, every sense attuned to the man before her.
Simon’s kiss was a revelation, an unfurling of desire that she hadn’t known she’d been holding back.
Within her mind, a chorus of surprise and delight sang praises to the depth of his passion as if he poured every unspoken word, every concealed emotion, into their ardent embrace.
Tingling spread like wildfire from her fingertips to the very tips of her toes, igniting a flurry beneath her skin that left her breathless and wanting.
Her stomach fluttered with a battalion of butterflies, tumultuous and wild in their flight, as though his lips had whispered secrets they dared not reveal.
She melted into him, her body succumbing to his assault as effortlessly as wax to flame, each caress stoking the fire within her.
He drew back, watching her with intense eyes that seemed to see straight through to her soul. He slid his hand down her side, over the curve of her hip, trailing down to the softness of her thigh.
Wondering how far he meant to go with his touches, Xenia met his gaze, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths that betrayed her reactions.
Her eyes held Simon’s steady gaze, silently challenging him to further prove the depth of his ardor.
The air between them crackled with the promise of more.
Her gaze shifted from Simon to where Owen stood a few paces away.
Owen came closer. His eyes glinted with a playful spark that acknowledged their silent game.
“It appears to be my turn again.” He stopped beside Xenia, towering over her shorter frame, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Without hesitation, he reached out, his large, calloused hands enveloping Xenia’s.
One arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him, while the other cradled the back of her head, his fingers threading through the dark tresses that had yet to escape her bun.
His grip was firm yet mindful, as if he held something precious.
His lips descended upon hers with bold intent, starkly contrasting with Simon’s earlier tenderness.
Owen’s kiss showed his confidence, fierce and unapologetic in its claim.
Yet there was a gentleness in his fervor, a careful balance between passion and respect that sent a thrill coursing through Xenia’s veins.
She felt every fiber of her being respond, her body moving against his with an instinctual rhythm. The sensation of his powerful arms holding her so tightly made it clear he wanted her as badly as she wanted him. She moaned, pressing herself against him.
The world around them seemed to fall away, leaving only the rising heat between their bodies. Her heart hammered against her ribs. His tongue thrust into her mouth, imitating the act she wished they were doing.
When they parted, she saw the question in Owen’s eyes, which matched the look on Simon’s face.
If they didn’t want her in bed, they were excellent actors.
She didn’t want their game to end. “Goodness. If this is the best Kinnerton’s most eligible bachelors can do, I fear for our village’s prospects. ”
The two men stood there, momentarily taken aback by her jest. Had no woman ever questioned their virility before? Judging by their kisses, the answer was no, as there was nothing lacking in either man’s seduction. Then they laughed, Owen running a hand through his hair.
“Perhaps we are merely out of practice,” Simon retorted smoothly, his voice carrying an edge of warmth.
Owen grinned widely. “Or maybe we’re just saving our true talents for someone who can fully appreciate them.”
Simon still chuckled when he turned, his posture relaxed, a silent signal that their playful challenge had reached its end. Owen, too, nodded with an air of finality, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth. They began to retreat, to go back to their stone skipping.
“Wait,” Xenia called.
With a swift motion, she reached for Owen, her fingers curling around the coarse fabric of his shirt sleeve.
She pulled him back toward her with surprising strength, fueled by an impulsive desire.
Owen stumbled slightly, his shock clear as his eyes widened, meeting hers with a look that mingled surprise with a spark of intrigue.
“Do you think you can leave with just that?” She wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer. “Now, seduce me properly.”
His breath hitched ever so slightly, but she could feel the thrum of anticipation between them. The game had changed, and she knew it as well as he did.
“Is that what you want, Zee? A proper seduction?” His question was a whisper against her lips, an invitation hanging in the charged space of their proximity.
A mischievous grin touched her lips, and her heart pounded in her chest. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” she retorted, eyes locking onto his with an unyielding intensity.
* * *
Before he kissed her again, Owen’s gaze met Simon’s. Being seduced by Zee wasn’t something he’d ever expected to happen. It wasn’t something they could have planned on when they agreed to never kiss her, or anything else.
He could see it in Simon’s eyes, a mental wrestling with the same turmoil that clawed at Owen’s resolve.
They had sworn that neither would seek Zee’s affections, to preserve the sanctity of their friendship.
Yet here she was, her eyes alight with mischief and desire, unknowingly beckoning one of them to forsake honor for passion.
The silence coiled around them tightly until Owen could bear it no longer. With a resolve that surprised even himself, he leaned into Zee. “I must ask again. This is what you wish?” He searched her face for any hint of uncertainty, any sign that she might recant and free them from this precipice.
“More than anything,” she whispered, her breath hitching with a mix of anticipation and excitement.
Her response made his groin tighten. He’d wanted this for so long, and he could have her now. No recriminations. His touch was gentle as it traced the line of her jaw before gliding down the curves of her body. The fabric of her gown was soft beneath his fingertips, and warm from her body.
His lips found hers with a hunger that startled him, and a quiet gasp escaped her as their mouths met in an urgent, heated exchange.
His hand rose to find the fullness of her breast, fingers splaying to cup and caress through the layers of her gown.
His thumb brushed over her nipple. Her answering whimper drove him on.
He cupped her bottom with his other hand, squeezing the soft flesh and pressing her against his groin. His cock jumped at the increased pressure. The heat of her skin seared his palms through the thin fabric of her garments, the sensation sending ripples of yearning coursing through his veins.
Zee’s body arched into his touch, her hands reaching up to tangle in the locks of his brown hair. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and her kisses trailed over his face and neck.
Simon loomed closer. With a swift motion, he grasped Zee’s arm, pulling her away from Owen’s passionate embrace. “Enough.”
Zee stumbled slightly against Simon’s chest, her eyes wide, her lips full and red from kissing.
Startled, Owen could only watch as Simon cradled her face in his hands.
There was no hesitation in Simon’s actions, no uncertainty.
He seemed to pour every ounce of his longing into the kiss he pressed upon her, his lips descending with intensity onto hers.
It was a kiss that sought to claim, to possess, to brand her soul with the depth of his longing.
He kissed her not just with his mouth, but with his entire being, her black hair falling free of its pins around them like a curtain, eyes closed in fierce concentration.
Her soft moan fueled the fire within Owen’s gut.
Simon’s boldness stirred envy in Owen when his fingers traced the neckline of Zee’s gown. With a swift motion, he lowered the delicate fabric just enough to expose the soft curve of her breast to his hungry gaze. He bent his head to take the fullness in his mouth.
She gasped as Simon’s lips worshipped the tender flesh, her back arching slightly into the caress, eyes closed as if to better focus on what she felt. Her breath hitched. “Simon,” she whispered with a sigh.
Hearing her lost in pleasure, Owen desperately needed to reclaim a part in this seduction. His lips descended onto the nape of her neck, brushing aside the thick waves of her hair. His kisses were gentle, as if he sought to tame the storm of emotions raging within him.
Her skin was warm under his lips, and he could feel the subtle shivers that ran down her spine. His fingers found the laces of her gown and tugged them, pulling the garment down over her shoulders. She lowered her arms to let it drop.
“Your skin is so soft,” Owen said, as he stroked her back above her chemise.
Her response was a breathless sigh. His hands descended further, shaping the curve of her buttocks through the thin fabric.
Simon’s moves seemed possessive when he bunched her chemise in his hands and lifted it over her head. He let the fabric fall to the ground as he gazed at her naked form. “You’re perfect, Xenia, just as I imagined you’d be.” He stroked his fingertips over her hip, over her belly.
Owen’s body tensed in reaction to the soft moans that escaped Xenia’s lips. Her need for pleasure was a siren’s call, and his own desires surged. He drew back just enough to witness Simon worshiping her with his mouth, the sight igniting a primal urge within him.
Simon straightened, glancing at Owen, a wordless conversation passing between them. They’d shared a woman once, a willing barmaid in a nearby town, but this was incomparable. This was their Zee, their friend. What they were doing changed everything.