Dirty Princes (Hot Candy 3)

Peeling Brylee’s clothes off is a game of striptease. Riddick has sat up, too, and it’s a thrill to have both our hands on her, this time around, pulling and unzipping and dragging the soft fabric of her sweater and blouse off, to reveal her creamy skin and the roundness of her tits, encased in soft blue lace that barely covers her nipples.

“Oh man…” Riddick whispers, awe in his voice, and I nod, not sure of mine.

She’s sexier every time I see her. I have no fucking idea how I resisted her so long. Can’t remember now why.

She gasps when we drag her tight, black leggings down, uncovering her matching lace panties, light blue with pink hearts.

Innocent and sultry, ignorant and curious. She’s ticking all my boxes, flicking all my buttons on.

Judging from Riddick’s dazed gaze, it’s the same for him. I scoot to his side as we finish undressing our girl.

Our girl.

Shaking my head at these strange thoughts, I grab the hem of my sweater to finish the job of getting naked—and find Brylee climbing on my lap, derailing my focus.

How can I think, or use my hands, when she’s sitting on top of my hard-on, her pretty titties in my face, her mouth inches from mine?

“Let me help you with this,” she murmurs.

“Urgh,” I reply.

Clever, Ryan. So well said.

She kisses me, tugging at my sweater, and I draw back just enough to let her pull it over my head, snagging my T-shirt, too, in the process. Pressing my bared chest to her soft breasts, I wrap my arms around her with a sigh of relief.

Then it gets even better because Riddick shifts to sit behind me, his hands wrapping around my middle, his dick poking my back, and his lips pressing to my shoulder, and even if my heart is pounding and tripping, and doing all the shit that scares me to death, I don’t fucking care.

It’s as if the world was off-kilter and has now righted itself, clicking back into place.

Before I can give this more thought and freak out, she drops one last, sweet kiss on my lips and climbs off me.

No. Come back. I open my mouth to say something, when she pulls off my sneakers and socks and starts working on my pants.

Another wave of relief swamps me—and what the hell is wrong with me today, huh?—as I lift my hips, letting her pull the pants off me.

The fire crackles, a warm presence, while the wind howls outside. A storm is coming.

How fitting, I think, as she gazes at me as if she’s never seen me naked before. Well, almost naked. My cock strains against the blue cotton of my briefs.

Granted, the other night at my place it was a middle-of-the-night, out-of-the-blue stunt. We’d woken up, undressed, jacked off together, and rolled back to sleep.

Not today. We’re here, in broad daylight, getting naked together.

Aware.

Conscious of what we’re doing. Where this could lead. Where it will lead, if things keep going the way they are.

And I’m so fucking excited you’d think I haven’t had sex in years, not mere months.

Riddick’s hands draw patterns on my stomach, then move lower, dipping into my briefs, and I jolt when he strokes my dick. “What have we here?” he mutters, laughter in his voice.

“Weren’t you…” I gasp. “…in pain?”

“Oh, I am in pain.” He presses his hard-on into the small of my back. “Right here

.”

Oh God.