Taste

Simmer

Mitsuhide woke first, but he did not bother moving, not when he was so bound up with the other two. Somewhere in the night, the chatelaine had wrapped herself between the two men, all of their limbs tangled together so much that he had a difficult time discerning who stopped where. He hardly minded. In fact, it was in the first small moments of waking that he realized just how starved he'd been for contact all these years. Every rustle of her skin burned against him. It was all he could manage not to pull her in tighter, tighter, tighter until he and she and Kenshin merged.

He was only half-surprised at mentally adding Kenshin in there. It seemed only fair to the other man. They were, after all, now thoroughly in this together, if only for the time being.

And speak of the Devil–Kenshin stirred himself, a deep, heady inhale as he blinked to life.

"Good morning," Mitsuhide whispered, amused.

"Mmm." Kenshin narrowed his green and blue eyes, accepting the greeting silently. "She still asleep?"

"As still as the night."

Kenshin brushed a delicate hand over her face, sweeping her hair behind her neck and placing a kiss there. She sighed, but didn't wake. "So she is. I have business to attend to. Look after her."

How could that man make everything sound like a command? Mitsuhide grinned and laid back as the God of War rose and dressed himself. "Of course."

He left the chamber not soon after, and Mitsuhide pulled the Princess tighter to him. What a heady night that had been. Quietly, he rested his lips on her forehead, her nose, her eyelashes...

"Nnnn." She shivered and cracked her eyes.

"Good morning," he murmured, feeling all at once like the luckiest man alive. "Did you sleep well, my Princess?"

"Ahuh." Blinking, she turned her head behind her and frowned, clearly searching for Kenshin.

"He had business."

"Ohh." She glowed pink. "So that wasn't all a weird dream."

"Not in the least, my Princess. Besides, with all the noises you were making, I have little doubt you would be disappointed if it were."

Her cheeks were flaming. "Stop thaaaat."

"Oh, shall I?" The insatiable need to tease her swelled inside him, desire clawing like a monster at his insides. "Or shall I tell you how ravishing you looked? Shall I expound, at length, upon how utterly enchanting you are on another man's lips? If you look half as good on me, I will die happy." Mitsuhide threaded a long finger over her cheek, her jaw, her lips, pausing there. "And you looked so taken, having the two of us lavish attention on you. Is that what you'd like more of, Princess? Do you want us both to tend to your every need, serve your every desire?"

"Stop," she whispered, soft as a petal, and he grew serious.

"Do you want me to?"

The Chatelaine fell silent, clearly embarrassed. "No."

He grinned like a man with a prize. "Are you enjoying this, you shameless girl?"

She dipped her head, so, so shy all of a sudden, and he tilted her face back to his before planting a kiss on hers. Already she was breathing haggardly. "Oh, you want more, do you? Say 'please'."

"Please," she whimpered.

Quietly, slowly, teasing every sensitive edge of her skin, he unfolded her kimono and laid her bare beneath him, drinking in the sight. Now that–that was something to behold. He fell silent and contemplative.