12. Chapter 12

In his darkest, most depraved fantasies, he never imagined Luo Fei simply giving over the way he is now, cracking apart around Ben like lava, exposed and unstoppable. Crying out Ben’s name, Luo Fei collapses onto Xiaoman with a heavy sigh, his eyes glazed.

Ben is used to following Luo Fei, chasing down leads and picking up the pieces when Luo Fei breaks. He expected to do that forever: never tasting the meal, just cleaning up after it.

Luo Fei, though, is under him now. Soft. Gentle. Quiet .

He never thought he would have the chance to own Luo Fei like this.

He grabs Lou Fei’s trim waist, the silk of the cheongsam bundled between his fingers like a promise, and snaps his hips. Luo Fei cries out helplessly and Ben is lost to it. He focuses on Luo Fei’s ass, his head bent down, and starts pounding into him. His thrusts are hard and loud, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the room. It is everything that makes his blood boil, tipping his passions into a burning heat. It’s fucking and making love and owning and he lets himself fall, diving into Lou Fei with everything he has to offer.

In his hands, Luo Fei is pliant, gasping and crying out but not fighting back. He’s clutching Xiaoman’s thighs, the artful curls of his hair falling apart as surely as he is. His pearls glint in the low light, shaking as Ben thrusts. He’s bottoming out with every slam, and he realizes distantly that sweat is beading down his back.

Luo Fei smiles — no, he grins, his mouth open and parted but his eyes closed. He’s panting for air with every slap of Ben’s hips.

Ben grabs at him and pulls, collapsing on his heels as he seats Luo Fei in his lap, jerking his hips to keep pounding into Luo Fei. He hooks his chin over Luo Fei’s shoulder and stares at Xiaoman, feeling a strange, new sense of pride as her gaze roams over them possessively. It’s shredding his last thread of control and fire races through his blood.

“No!” Xiaoman leans forward and grabs his shoulder. The command is a sharp but not cutting. Ben gasps and holds his breath, head tilted back as he forces his body to clinch up and hold still for her, pulling himself back from the edge of completion. He breathes through his nose and wraps his arms tightly around Luo Fei, who is — of course — fussing. Wordlessly, for a change, but whining and squirming and huffing, almost unseating himself off of Ben’s dick.

Xiaoman stands up and both men freeze.

She shoves her pants down, toeing out of her shoes and kicking them aside. Naked from the waist down, she steps into Luo Fei, pushing her knee into his abdomen to pin him against Ben. She deftly manhandles Ben out of his jacket. Ben lets her. He would let her do anything to him at that moment without a word of complaint.

She tosses his jacket onto the settee behind her and falls backwards onto it, legs spread, the wet curls of her mound glossy and dark, peeking out from beneath the edge of her shirt. “Come on, come on,” she says impatiently, voice firm. She gestures at herself, intention clear.

“Hey! Hey!” Luo Fei finds his voice as Ben shuffles forward until his knees are tucked under the edge of the settee. He’s still holding Luo Fei tightly against his chest, keeping himself seated inside of him as they move. The position forces Luo Fei’s thighs to open wider across Ben’s lap and he gasps a little, interrupting his complaints.

Xiaoman puts a foot on Luo Fei’s abdomen, pressing him into Ben again. He stops, eyeing her foot warily. She slides it down over his hip and thigh and then tucks her toes under the hem of the dress, lifting it up until Luo Fei’s dick is exposed to them again.

“So pretty,” Xiaoman says, and Luo Fei goes completely still. She looks him over. “All of you. The color suits you.” She nods. “I like you in silk. Do you like being pretty for me?” Her smile is soft and could, under other circumstances, be considered teasing. Her voice is gentle, though, and her eyes wide, a flush of arousal pinking up her cheeks and ears.

“Yes,” Luo Fei says, his voice scratchy and low, as if he is trying not to say anything for a change.

These are the things Ben knows: Luo Fei’s family was rich; his father died young and Luo Fei was raised in a household of women — mother, sister, servants; he has rarely shown romantic inclinations for anyone, be it female or male; he is prideful and arrogant but also fearful and lonely and admits to none of it.

And to this Ben adds: Luo Fei desperately wants to know that he is pretty.

Ben realizes that he has been absently making small thrusts into Luo Fei as Xiaoman engages with Luo Fei. He puts his mouth against Luo Fei’s ear. “You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever known, the prettiest I’ve ever fucked.”

Lou Fei gasps and closes his eyes, wetness appearing on his long, silky lashes.

“The prettiest who ever fucked me,” Xiaoman says with a grin, figers parting her slick folds as she jerks her chin at Ben, another short but clear command. He rises up on his knees, taking Luo Fei with him, until they are all balanced on the precipice.

Luo Fei slides into Xiaoman, who grunts at the intrusion. Ben is pushing into him as well, moving them both forward, but it’s clearly not enough for Xiaoman who hooks her heels around Ben’s hips and yanks . She’s strong and he forgot that for a moment but it hits home as he reaches out to stop from falling face first into both of them by slamming his hands on the back of the settee, making it rock slightly.

Luo Fei is calling wordless noises of protest and pleasure, caught between Ben and Xiaoman in such a way as to be immobile. He wraps his arms around Xiaoman’s waist and shoves his face into her tuxedo jacket, biting the lapel.

There is nothing Xiaoman could say that would hold Ben back, this time.