I reached Thor’s hips and skimmed my thumbs over Payne’s, then up to caress the thin line of flesh his crop top had left revealed.
“Can I…” I murmured, stuck for a moment, unsure of which of them to ask first.
In the end, I exhaled and went with my gut.
“Thor, can I take Payne’s top off if it’s alright with him?” I requested of them both.
“It’s more than alright with me,” Payne groaned.
“You may,” Thor replied, his voice suddenly growing deeper and growlier.
Dom voice.
I loved it. I missed it.
Fuck.
I’d needed to hear that voice directed at me for months, and there it was, ringing in my ears as I gently took hold of the hem of Payne’s top and peeled it off over his head. For a moment, I considered flinging it somewhere, impatience almost getting the best of me, until the soft, calming haze of the moment rolled over me in a pleasant, perfect wave, reminding me that we had time. That this wasn’t some rushed, fumbled, hasty roll in the hay made frantic by the underlying fear that someone was going to come along and ruin the moment.
We had time for me to carefully fold the garment, the rhythmic motions further settling me down. I laid it on the coffee table beside the plates and marshmallows, squirted more pineapple-flavored massage oil into my hands, and cupped Payne’s waist, rubbing slow circles with just my thumbs as I massaged inward, towards his spine, finding spots that made him shiver and others that made him wiggle and moan. Each of Payne’s movements brought low groans from Thor, whose hands joined mine on Payne’s body, rubbing, stroking, and caressing Payne, whose hips rolled in a languid cadence as he never stopped massaging Thor.
When I reached the back of his neck, Payne shuddered and let out a low groan, his muscles growing looser as my fingers skimmed up and down the base of his skull, silky strands falling over my hands as I drew them down to rub his shoulders.
Soft, warm skin beneath my fingers, low, pleased murmurs—his and Thor’s—mingling like the blues we’d asked the smart speaker to play. We found a rhythm, Payne and I, as I worked my way down his back again and he leaned over Thor, gliding his hands back over Thor’s pecs.
Down, up, over, across, music and motion. I slid down Thor’s legs to rub Payne’s lace-covered ass, the texture of the cloth both smooth and a little rough where the patterns hugged his bottom. I deliberately brushed my thumbs over Thor’s sack before turning my attention back to his thighs. Sensual massage wasn’t just erotically exciting for the receiver, the sighs, the moans, the quivers, it was like being immersed in an achingly torturous whirlpool of pleasure, each motion sending pinpricks of desire dancing over my skin in heated bursts of needy electricity.
“You both have truly talented hands,” Thor said. “Talented enough to have left me feeling selfish to have all your attention focused on me. So, tell me what you want, and it’s yours. Anything. Everything, let me reward you both the way you deserve.”
“I’d like to move this to your bedroom, since I still have several surprises for you in mine, and then I’d like Master Wylde and I to put on a show for you,” Payne replied, without having to hesitate at all.
“No, not master tonight,” I said, “just Wylde, please.”
I could see the uncertainty flicker in his eyes as he watched me over his shoulder, then looked to Thor for confirmation that it was okay to call me that.
“Your wish is my command,” Thor replied, caressing Payne’s thigh as he spoke.
I slid off his legs and held out my hand to Payne, loving the way his fit so perfectly in mine as I helped him off Thor so he could get up.
“You haven’t told me what you’d like as your reward,” Thor said as he stood and cupped my cheek.
Nuzzling into his touch, I closed my eyes and savored the contact.
“This is my reward,” I murmured, sighing as he continued caressing my face.
I hoped he got it. I really hoped he understood, because there was nothing specific I could ask him for right now, nothing I needed, but this. The tenderness we used to share. The connection we used to have. Him knowing what to give me, without me ever having to verbalize my desire. Then his fingers slid into my hair, the sharp tug forcing a hiss from me, as his lips slammed against mine, and I parted to let his tongue explore.
Rough. Aggressive. Perfect.
Moaning, I kissed him back, unable to hold back a whine when he finally released me and stepped back.
“Bedroom, now,” he declared, cracking me on the ass as Payne and I scurried past him.
It sent shockwaves through my body, straight to my brain, which jolted with pleasure, then melted as the sting radiated through me. Payne paused, forcing me to stop too, but only long enough for him to unplug the smart speaker from where he’d placed it on the end table beside the lamp. Then we were off again. Thanks to him, our bedroom was so tidy that even the bed was made, which was a rare thing, since Thor and I tended to not only let the alarm go off, but we hit the snooze button like it was a Vegas slot machine, then jumped out of bed at the last minute and played bumper cars on the way to the shower. Some mornings we shared it; other times, the loser made a beeline for the coffee machine.
Needless to say, we could rarely be bothered to pull the blankets up, let alone make the bed properly the way Payne had done. Thor stripped off his boxers, and if it wasn’t for the hold I had on Payne’s hand and the vague memory of him mentioning some kind of show, I’d have slid to my knees right then and there and begged Thor to let me suck him.
“Please don’t touch until the show is over,” Payne said when he let go of my hand to plug the smart speaker in.