“Turn her,” he demanded, and Alec obeyed. With firm hands on my hips, he pushed until I was facing him.
“I think Alec’s getting a little hot,” Tyler whispered against the nape of my neck before placing a firm kiss there. “I think you should remove his jacket.”
“Yes, sir,” I breathed. Tyler froze, his lips on my skin. I felt him smile, and pleasure welled up inside me.
I slowly pushed Alec’s jacket off his shoulders, and he let it fall to the floor behind him. As I ran my hands over the hard planes of his chest, then his shoulders and muscular arms, he watched my every move as if he had all night, his lips parted, his breath quickening even more.
I rested my hands on his hips and tilted my face up to kiss him, but before I could crash my mouth to his, Tyler’s hands covered mine. He caressed my fingers until his hands were wrapped around my wrists, and then he tugged my arms to his sides, pulling me flush with his chest and away from Alec.
“Not yet.” His voice was deceptively calm—I could feel his arousal pressing into my ass. I leaned my head back on his shoulder, sparing a fleeting thought for my appearance and hoping they didn’t ruin my hair and makeup too much. “Alec, remove her underwear. Take your time.”
Alec and I both moaned lightly. I was like putty in his hands, loving this side of him, and Alec wasn’t arguing either. Maybe he could learn to share after all—maybe he just needed someone to order him to do it. But I would have to puzzle that one out later.
Alec inched forward.
The way Tyler had my arms pulled back made my chest jut out, my breasts rising and falling with every labored breath. I was ready and wanting. When Alec got his hands on my underwear, it would be soaked through.
Alec bent down just slightly, then placed both hands flat over my thighs. He dragged his palms up, bringing the layers of tulle with him. His fingers crawled over the dress bit by bit until the hem was in his hands.
With his fist full of tulle, he pressed the fabric against my belly while his other hand found my hip under the dress. Gently, very slowly, he traced my hip, then once again dragged his palm up my thigh. It took all the willpower I had not to squirm, move to the side, try to get his hand where I wanted it most. When he reached the top of my underwear, he dipped one finger under the fabric and ran it from one hip to the other, his nail scaping lightly just above my pubic bone.
He watched me the whole time, his icy blue eyes boring into mine, his lips parted. He watched as my breath hitched, as my eyes drooped, as my chest heaved and pushed my breasts out.
He snapped the top of my panties against my skin as he removed his fingertip, but he didn’t pull away. With the backs of his fingers, he trailed a path over my pubic bone and down to my most sensitive area. As his knuckles grazed my clit through the fabric, I nearly gave in, ready to beg them to end this torture. But the look of pure lust on Alec’s face and the impossibly hard erection against my ass kept me quiet. They were enjoying this as much as I was—it was just as exquisitely torturous for them as it was for me.
Alec’s fingers found the lower hem of my panties, and he slipped two fingers underneath, hooking the front of my underwear through the leg holes. He held it as if he was about to rip it away from my body. I wished he would. The visual made me moan, and Tyler’s hot breath at my neck started to come harder, his hips rolling against me in tiny, slow movements.
Alec just kept doing what he was doing, the picture of control except for his heavy breathing. His knuckles grazed my pubic hair as he dragged his fingers lower—lower, lower, between my legs. When he reached the warm, moist apex of my thighs, with his fingers caught between the wetness of my flesh and the wetness of the fabric, he showed his first sign of weakness. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and a barely audible “fuck” passed his lips. But he didn’t stop. He rubbed his fingers up and down my folds,