Page 15 of Griffin Food

“I’m not going to,” Rafe grits out. “But, Gods, I’m only a man.”

“Then fucking help her,” Lark says. Standing tall, proud, and determined at Rafe’s side. My guardian is willing to push his case with a more dominant male. “I cannot watch her suffer. I’m in control of myself, and I know you are too. You really want to leave her alone? Are you willing to take that risk?”

Rafe sighs, long and slow. “No, I’m not willing to risk any harm coming to the lass.” His hand trembles faintly against me. Then his middle finger moves—oh so slightly, a gentle side-to-side as the thick digit presses gently between my folds until his fingertip is right against my pussy entrance. His hand slides forward, and that single finger plunges deep into me.

I arch my back, hips lifting… With gentle force, he holds my hips against the bed.

My cry is pure wanton.

“Aye, she likes that,” Lark says darkly. “Look at her. Lass always did get a spark in her eyes whenever you turned into a bossy bastard with her. Mayhap it’s in her nature. Needing to be dominated. Given she’s⁠—”

“Shut the fuck up, Lark.” Rafe’s tone is more exasperation than anger. His other hand cups my cheek tenderly.

Rich intimacy envelops the moment. His finger is inside me. I’m pulsing around him, fluttering, tingling, sweet, achy pleasure. And Lark is right here, watching what Rafe does, watching his friend push a finger into me as I lie spread open like an offering upon a bed.

“More,” I say.

A crooked smile slides over Rafe’s features. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing this on my terms. And we will go fucking slowly. Even if it kills the three of us.”

Lark spoke true. I both love and hate Rafe’s natural authority in equal measure when he gets that stern voice and tells me how it is.

My pout is filled with fake outrage. Lark laughs, low and husky.

“Aye. Better make yourself useful, Lark,” Rafe says. “Something tells me her behavior is going downhill fast.” And then he slides his finger out of me.

I lie panting helplessly as he withdraws his finger, smothered in my slick, and stuffs it into his mouth with a groan.

“Gods,” Lark says weakly.

I cannot look away from Rafe’s face as he licks every drop from his finger.

“Go ahead, Lark,” he says. “Go ahead and clean our filthy princess all up.”

I have a terrible notion he’s going to go to the basin for a fresh cloth.

“My fucking pleasure,” Lark says. Only he doesn’t seek a fresh cloth. Instead, he takes up a position between my spread thighs at the bottom of the bed, shoving the last of the covers aside.

“Keep your legs nice and wide.” Rafe’s lips curve in a smirk. “Mayhap Lark’s got a lot of practice at this.”

Rafe’s amusement fades as Lark’s hands slide up my thighs. Lark lowers himself slowly, watching me the whole time, pausing with his thumbs inches from my pussy, and his head lowered, poised. “Is this all right, Princess? Is this all right if I clean you up like this?”

My mouth is hanging slack. My eyes are very wide.

He means to⁠—

Goodness.

I have heard rumors—fleeting, overheard conversations with maids—about their lovers doing things like this to them, but never thought I would experience it myself. I nod, slightly dazed and definitely interested.

“The words, lass,” Rafe says gruffly. “We know what is happening—that you are succumbing to heat. Your thoughts are scattered. You are subject to powerful needs. But give us the words as best as you can. Now, do you want Lark to put his mouth on your pussy? To clean up the filthy mess you have made, and to make you feel good?”

“I do,” I say. “Please. I beg you. I do.”

With a sigh, Lark presses his lips against me there. He groans, and his tongue slides through my wetness. And then he buries his face against me and purrs so loudly that it vibrates against me.

Goddess weep… I didn’t know… Couldn’t possibly have imagined… My hips rise, seeking more.

Lark throws an arm across my waist and pushes me back down before he continues his sweet torment of my intimate flesh.