Page 71 of Warrior Princess Assassin (Braided Fate #1)

Chapter Thirty-Three

The Princess

T he room has grown so warm that the pools are beginning to throw off steam, causing thin clouds to gather around us, making for an ethereal setting. The fires glow in every direction. When Asher tells the king to disrobe, I’m not sure what to expect, and I’m glad for the wine feeding me courage.

It helps that Asher pulls me into his lap, then says, without hesitation, “Your Majesty. Strip.”

Ky looks back at him for a solid minute, as if weighing this. Then, without ceremony, he stands up, unlaces his trousers, and lets them fall.

His naked body is so simultaneously intimidating and intoxicating that I don’t know if I should hide or if I want to start rubbing up against him.

His body is strong, muscled, as expected for a soldier, and his erect cock reaches his abdomen.

No wonder it felt aggressive to grab it.

It feels aggressive to look at it. I can’t stop staring.

“Now what?” says the king, and his voice is challenging. Asher’s chest is rising and falling against my back, and I realize he’s also staring, just like I am.

Maybe a man’s naked body is always intimidating and intoxicating.

“Sit,” Asher finally says, pointing to the bench. When Ky obeys, Asher lets go of me to situate some of the pillows and cushions on the ground around him. Then he kneels close, puts his hands on the king’s knees, and parts his legs.

Ky draws a sharp breath, but he reaches out to put a hand against Asher’s chest, just below his throat. Half catching him, half stopping him. A gleaming bead appears at the tip of his cock, and my heart skips.

Asher’s eyes flick up. “Let me go.” His shoulders are tight again, his voice just as challenging as the king’s was. “Jory wants to know how to pleasure a man.”

But the king doesn’t let him go. He just strokes his thumb along Asher’s neck until my friend sighs. His head drops. He softens.

Like before, the king’s voice goes very low, very quiet. “Asher. Do you want to?”

At that, Asher looks up at him steadily, as if surprised by the question. For a moment, some of his easy confidence falters, but he nods—then hesitates. Swallows.

The king runs his finger along his neck again. The purr of his accent is so gentle. “Tell me.”

“I do.” Asher’s voice goes so small, so soft. “But don’t...don’t touch me. During. Please.”

My heart aches. “Asher.”

“I won’t.” Ky’s hand falls away from his neck. “But you don’t have to—”

“I said I want to.” Then he leans forward, takes the base of Ky’s cock in his hand, and runs his tongue in a slow drag up the length.

The king hisses a breath that nearly ends in a yelp. I watch his hands curl into fists against the stone of the bench.

Asher sits back. “There,” he says to me. “Start with that.”

My eyes go wide.

“Fuck,” says Ky. “You’re going to do it at the same time ?”

“Yes,” says Asher, and Ky’s fists grip tighter.

I’m more tentative, more hesitant—but I remember the way the king gripped my hand around him.

Like a weapon, not a flower. So I take the weight of him in my hand, and it makes me shiver.

Warm, like the rest of him. Asher moves close, his hand wrapping around mine, his forearm against my own.

The skin is so soft, like velvet under my palm.

“Slow.” Asher’s voice is a rough rasp against my ear. “Take your time.”

I’m a little afraid, but Asher did it like it was nothing. When I lean forward and touch my tongue to the king’s cock, I’m rewarded with the same hissing breath. I’m startled by the salty taste of the tip, and it makes me jump, just a little.

When I sit back, letting go, Asher moves close and strokes the length of him again.

This time he takes the tip into his mouth, sucking gently.

He’s slow, taking his time, only going halfway down, but lingering at the tip before he lets go.

Ky’s eyes have gone dark, his gaze hot and possessive as he looks down at us both. Seeing it makes my insides go taut.

I try to follow Asher’s lead, but Ky is bigger than I thought. I expected velvet in my mouth, but this is just warm, smooth. I was prepared to find the feel of it odd, or somehow repellent, but it’s not. Not at all. I pull him deeper into my mouth, relishing the sound of his deepening breath.

When I come loose, I’m still uncertain. But his eyes find mine, and the look on his face almost takes my breath away. It’s not just reverence. It’s gratitude. Admiration. Wonder. Desire.

“Good?” I whisper.

“Better than good, Princess.”

Then Asher takes him in his mouth again, and Ky’s eyes clench closed. His fingers scratch along the stone of the bench, and his throat jerks as he swallows. “Fuck. Are you competing—”

He breaks off as Asher goes down farther, one hand coming up to grip between his legs, his fingers cupping him, drawing at the heavy weight of his testicles.

Whatever he does makes the king’s breath catch, and his legs spread a bit wider.

Ky’s hand almost lifts, almost reaches, but he catches himself, clamping it down on the bench.

I watch Asher’s face, seeing his cheeks fill and hollow, as he goes up and down, torturously slow.

Watching him fight was poetic, and this is, too.

He draws at the king with the same vicious grace.

His hand moves again, disappearing under Ky’s body, and the king makes a sound that I could only describe as raw.

Something inside me clenches, reacting to that low growl, and I’m very aware of the heat between my legs, the tautness of my nipples against this shift.

After a moment, Asher pulls free, and the king is gasping, gazing at him now.

“Asher,” Ky whispers, and there’s a desperate, ragged note in his voice.

But Asher doesn’t look at him. His eyes are only on me. “Your turn. Don’t stop.”

“Wait,” I say, rising up. “What are you going to—”

Asher moves behind me and grabs hold of my hips, then presses himself right up against my buttocks again. I shiver, and his hands slide up my ribs, the fabric of my shift twisting under his fingers. “I’m going to show you how a man pleasures a woman.”

For a moment, I’m uncertain, trapped between them.

I don’t know what he intends, and this is different from when we were in the pool and they were both kissing me.

But my body is so primed, so charged , and I trust Asher.

I take Ky into my mouth again, but I’m slower now, my focus split between the two of them.

I expected Asher to tug at my shift, but he leaves it on, and at first, he simply runs his fingers along my buttocks slowly, his hands gentle, tracing the distance from my upper thigh to my lower back over and over again until the tension eases back out of my body.

Without warning, he spreads me a little, his fingers pulling me apart through the shift. The sensation lights me on fire. I feel so exposed, yet so covered at the same time.

He leans in close, and I feel the weight of his bare chest against my back, his legs against my legs. It makes my entire body shiver.

Then he reaches around to press a hand against my abdomen and says, “Spread your legs, lovely.”

I let out a breath and obey, but it’s Ky that gasps, and I forget that his cock was in my mouth, that my cheek is against his thigh, and he’s practically panting.

I draw back just as Asher runs a hand up the length of my leg, from ankle to hip, bringing the shift with it.

I shiver at the sudden feeling of the air, but he’s still so close against me that I don’t quite feel naked either.

Then his finger simply, suddenly runs right along the seam between my legs, the lightest most delicate touch.

No one has ever touched me there, and it gives me a jolt. I cry out.

The king puts a hand against my cheek. “Easy, beautiful.”

Then Asher does it again , this time a little slower, his finger slipping between the folds. He rubs back and forth so lightly and I shudder, feeling my insides clench.

Then his hand moves, and he runs a thumb downward, sliding through the cleft of my buttocks. I shiver, and then he pauses to press gently against the tight hole there.

I flush red and shoot straight upright, but he catches me against him. “ Asher. ” My voice is half outrage, half plea.

Ky is staring at him over my shoulder. “What did you do?”

“Guess.” Asher kisses me on the neck. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” I whisper, and my cheeks burn hotter.

The king is watching us now, his eyes so dark.

His cock is so hard, glistening a bit now from my attentions, another bead appearing at the tip.

But I finally realize what he means each time he says we are not competing .

I thought he meant him and Asher, that they were rivals for me.

But they’re not rivals at all. He said it clearly.

She’s in love with you, Asher.

You love her back.

But I’ve seen his attraction to us both since the first day. I saw it in the gentle way he’d touch Asher, and the confident way he’d touch me.

He’s not competing because he’s been waiting .

Asher’s voice is so low in my ear. “Do you want to let the king have a turn?”

I’m wanton now, aching, so I nod. “Please,” I whisper.

Ky slides to his knees, then takes my breast into his mouth like he means to worship it.

I feel his cock prodding my belly, and my legs part wider, almost of their own volition.

He pulls at my shift without hesitation, baring my thigh.

Asher was slow and sure, but Ky has a different kind of confidence.

His hand slides between my legs, and it’s so different.

Asher used one finger, so delicate and precise.

The king’s whole hand presses against me in a way I’m hungry for.

I find myself rubbing against him, and before I realize it, he slides two fingers into me.

It stings a little, which makes me gasp, but it’s only for a moment, and I crave it so deeply that I don’t care. I rock against him, longing to be fuller.