Snow - By Deborah M. Brown Page 0,13

turned and she saw one quick warm smile light his face as he looked towards her. Gault’s mouth was set in a grim line. The look he sent her way was full of resentment.

“What do you imagine she will learn from watching us?” Gault asked. “Watching two men rut like she’d watch some goddamned animal?” His voice shook.

“Sshh,” murmured Ander. “How a man pleasures a man is not much different to how a woman does.” He lifted the heavy black braid that hung over Gault’s shoulder and softly kissed his nape.

“As if you’d know,” Gault said.

Snow White saw the shiver that ran through him. He lifted his head, arching his neck, and Ander kissed the pulse that pounded in the hollow of his throat. With gentle fingers, Ander untied the thong that bound Gault’s braid, threading his fingers through Gault’s hair until it hung in curls around his shoulders.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ander drew Gault to stand between his legs and, reaching up, began to unbutton the loose white shirt he wore. When Gault’s shirt hung open, Ander stood and slowly pushed it from his shoulders, exposing Gault’s lithe, muscled torso and smooth, golden skin. Ander ran his hands down Gault’s arms, kneeling before him to remove his boots. Placing his fingers on the placket of Gault’s breeches, Ander undid those buttons too, peeling the breeches over Gault’s lean hips and down his legs so that he stood naked before him.

Snow White realised she had been holding her breath and let it out on a gasp. The tallest of the dwarves, almost of a height with her, Gault’s body was chiseled perfection. Taut with muscle, golden skin shining in the candlelight. The hair between his thighs was dark bronze, and his phallus curved upwards towards his navel, moisture gleaming at its tip.

Ander closed his hand around its length, and Snow White’s own fingers tightened in reflex. And she could feel it too. Velvet-clad iron. Furnace hot.

Gault hissed, throwing back his head as Ander’s fingers opened and closed about his shaft. Taking Ander’s head between his hands Gault lowered his mouth and kissed him. There was nothing of the rough hunger she had seen her stepmother and the huntsman exchange. It was achingly tender. A lover’s kiss, it was also the kiss of someone who loved.

Gault divested Ander of his clothing, all the while exchanging slow, gentle kisses. Shorter than Gault and stockier, Ander’s body was no less beautiful. Their kisses became deeper, more urgent. Ander pushed Gault towards the bed, and Snow White caught sight of his back. Dozens of ropey white scars marred his golden skin, the legacy of a lashing that must have come close to killing him. Snow White made a sound of distress, and Gault stiffened as if he had heard her.

“Sshh,” murmured Ander as he climbed onto the bed to kneel behind Gault. He ran his hand over the other man’s back, and Snow White saw Gault’s flesh shiver under his gentle touch. Putting his mouth on one of the scars, Ander laid a trail of kisses along it, following its length where it curved over Gault’s shoulder and down to the base of his spine. He drew Gault down so that he lay on his back looking up at Ander who kneeled beside him.

Bending down, Ander placed his mouth against Gault’s throat and then proceeded to make his way down his body with his mouth and his tongue. With his fingers. Gault’s eyes closed, his hands fisted by his sides. Snow White watched as Ander’s tongue circled one flat brown nipple, feeling her own nipples tighten as Gault’s did. Feeling her own belly quiver as the flesh of Gault’s belly quivered under Ander’s mouth and hands. She could hear the rasp of Gault’s breath as Ander paused where his phallus jutted against his belly.

Her gaze fixed to the mirror, Snow White watched as Ander stroked and suckled, seeing from the way Gault’s hips flexed restlessly against the bed and his hands tightened convulsively upon the sheets how it pleasured him. Learning that if you touched a man just there or if you ran the tip of your tongue across the flesh there, or there, it was enough to make him arch from the bed with a hoarse cry.

“Ander!” Gault’s hands grasped Ander’s head, holding him still from the exquisite torture he had been inflicting. Ander smiled. He knelt between Gault’s legs, running a hand over his firm muscled thighs. Snow White’s