Mists of Velvet

something else, but then the image of his dream woman came to him, and the hole in his chest got bigger and darker.

    Keir sensed Rhys pulling away. He knew why. He was thinking of his dream woman. His emotions got murky, his excitement waned, and Keir felt frantic. He wasn’t done feeding. He needed more.
    “ Don’t think of her ,” he mentally murmured to the mortal. “Just as I won’t think of Rowan.”
    The woman fell back onto the bed, her thighs spread, waiting for them to come to her. They both crawled to her, and Keir bent to suckle her breasts while parting her sex with his fingers, inviting Rhys to pet her.
    Their fingers touched. The electric charge slammed through him. Only when he fed did they feel it. It was arousing, binding, and Rhys brushed against him again, just to feel the connection once more.
    Keir’s cock was hard and aching, and the woman was reaching down for Rhys’ hand. Then, she was placing Rhys’ fingers around Keir’s cock.
    The woman’s excitement vibrated around the room as Rhys stroked him. When Keir reached for him, then wrapped his hand around Rhys’ neck, bringing him closer to him, she purred and rubbed her thighs together. When he grabbed Rhys’ cock and began stroking him, she cried out and touched herself.
    She watched, her eyes wide, her fingers stroking her cunt as Keir and Rhys touched each other. The arousal ramped up, and Keir felt his hunger abate—he also felt the empty spot inside him begin to fill the tiniest bit. There was a special connection between them, especially during this—sex.
    He heard Rhys’ thoughts: he wanted—needed—to come. He wanted inside the woman, to fuck her hard; he wanted to watch Keir take her as well.
    Keir wanted all that, too.
    They left each other. Rhys then lifted the woman so that she was on her knees, her back to his chest. Keir kneeled in front of her and placed her legs over Rhys’ thighs, exposing her core. Gripping her hips, Rhys lifted her up, sat her on his cock as Keir worked one breast, and slid the other hand to her pussy.
    The woman cried out in pleasure as she slid down on Rhys’ cock, and he thrust upward. Keir watched as Rhys took her, his cock sliding in and out. Her bottom slapped at Rhys’ thighs, and her tits bounced enticingly, making him reach for one.
    Her sex was stretched wide with Rhys’ cock; she was moaning. He played with her and watched her breasts bounce; he pinched her nipple and felt her cunt grow wetter on his hand. Her core clutched at Rhys, and he groaned, gripping her hips harder. As Keir took in the picture before him, he wondered if Rowan would ever be this way with them—with him.
    Could he share her like this? Could he stand to see Rhys thrusting into her? Could he part her thighs, lower his mouth to her core, and have Rhys there, watching? Touching?
    No. He couldn’t. Whatever he did with Rowan would be beautiful; too sacred; too important to him to share—even with Rhys.
    “Oh my God,” she kept chanting as Rhys took her. Keir was sweating, his teeth grinding together. He was close, and he fed off the inner struggle Rhys was waging.
    He didn’t want to come—yet.
    Circling her, Keir stroked her core, then Rhys’ cock.
    “You bastard . ” Rhys’ panting breaths entered his thoughts. “You know you’ll make me come.”
    The woman liked it. She changed from “Oh my God,” to “Yes, yes.” She wanted to be fucked by them and then to watch them take each other.
    Keir met Rhys’ gaze before he lowered his head to her breasts. Rhys lifted her breasts to Keir’s mouth, brushing her nipples against his face, and Keir caught them in his mouth, biting down softly.
    Her arm flew behind her, and her fingers clutched Rhys’ hair. Her breasts bounced, Rhys lifted them higher, and Keir took them hard, suckling her, kneading her in time to the stroke of Rhys’ hands and his cock. Their fingers brushed again, and the electric shock was shared once more.
    Then Keir moved down, lower, lower, until his mouth was at her sex and he could see Rhys’ cock filling her. He watched for a second, turned on by watching. Rhys’ cock was thick, glistening, and the woman was taking him, swallowing him whole. And it looked so fucking good . . .
    Rhys heard the woman scream as Keir sucked her clit. The bastard’s fingers were sliding around the base of his cock, spreading the wetness down to his balls. Then Rhys felt Keir’s tongue circle the part of his cock that he could reach. As he