Zuri catches me looking and blushes. “I like them.”
Ursa shifts, and I catch her trailing her hand up Zuri’s thigh, stopping just short of the hem. “There are a number of places to be pierced, darling. I think you’d enjoy quite a few of them.”
If anything, Zuri blushes harder. “Maybe.”
I have to focus on not thinking about Zuri adorned with jewelry through her nipples and clitoral hood. Of how I could drive her wild toying with them with my tongue. Except focusing isn’t working because I can’t stop picturing it. I groan. “Damn it, Aurora. Now you’ve gone and done it.”
“Sorry.” She flashes a quick grin at me. “Not sorry.” She turns back to Ursa. “I’ll get those drinks started. It was nice to see you again, Zuri.” She’s a professional, so there isn’t even a hint of question there about what we’re all doing here together, dressed as if this is permanent and not just a week-long assignation.
“Would you like to play with Aurora again, darling?”
Zuri shifts, but we’re both pressed against her so there’s nowhere for her to go. I watch her face carefully. It’s a simple enough question, but there’s nothing simple in her expression. She finally looks at Ursa. “I don’t know.”
“Elaborate.”
“I enjoyed what we did on stage.”
Ursa watches her just as closely as I am. “Mmhmm.”
Zuri shifts again, pressing back against me. I respond to the silent ask and drape my arm around her waist and pull her into my lap. She exhales slowly. “If it’s something you want, I’ll obey.”
“That wasn’t what I asked you. I know what I want already. I asked what you want.” She edges closer, her hand drifting up Zuri’s thigh again. It makes Zuri squirm, which is hell on my control because she’s squirming against my cock. Ursa’s hand disappears beneath her dress, and I know the exact moment she penetrates Zuri because she goes soft and all but melts back against my chest.
Ursa’s hand moves beneath her dress. “I’ll ask again and this time, answer honestly. Would you like to play with Aurora again?”
“No.” The word shudders out. Zuri clutches my arms so tightly, there are bound to be imprints of her fingernails long after she’s let go. “I just want you…” She whimpers a little. “Both of you.”
“There now. Was that so hard?”
Zuri lets her head drop back to rest on my shoulder. “No, Mistress.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
“Come quietly, love. You don’t want everyone in this room to know that I have my fingers in your pretty pussy, do you?” Ursa’s gaze is intent on Zuri’s face. Not just intent. Intense. I wait for a wave of jealousy in response to the possessive look I’ve only ever seen directed at me. It doesn’t come. Having Zuri with us just feels right. Maybe it’s because I want her, too. Maybe it’s because her softness and her steel perfectly complement us, perfectly rounds out our relationship. I don’t know. There’s no point in questioning it. It simply is.
Ursa works Zuri to orgasm right there in the booth. With every roll of her hips, I have to grit my teeth harder to keep myself under control. There will be pleasure aplenty later. I don’t need to blow my wad at the table from a little dry humping. Or that’s what I tell myself as I hang by a fucking thread.
Zuri comes with a near-silent moan, shuddering in my lap. Ursa smiles, her entire expression going both warm and soft for a fleeting moment before she packs it away and all that remains is a cool smile. “Good girl.” She shifts her attention to me. “And you, lover. You’ve shown excellent restraint.” She withdraws her fingers, wet with Zuri’s orgasm, and presses them to my lips. “Taste how good she is.”
I take her fingers into my mouth eagerly, sucking and flicking my tongue over her skin. Zuri tastes sweet, but I keep it up long after I’ve licked Ursa clean.
She slowly pulls her fingers out of my mouth and shakes her head. “You’re such a handful.”
“That’s what you enjoy about me.”
“One of the many things.” She turns her attention back to the room. As suspected, we have a bit of an audience. No one has moved from their respective booths or seats at the bar, but a good portion of the people here just watched that little show.
Historically, Ursa doesn’t play in public often. I think I can count on one hand how many times she’s done it, and all were special occasions for one reason or another.
I guess tonight is a special occasion, too.
Malone walks through the door, and her entrance is like a rock thrown into a placid pool of water. Ripples of people turning back to their drinks or conversations as she passes. She ignores the bar and comes straight for us, looking as perfectly put together as always. She’s wearing fitted black pants, suspenders and a gray silk blouse. And, of course, her customary heels. With her icy blond hair swept back from her face, her beauty is on full display.