a Pleasure Rites, #1 by Ines Johnson (top ten books of all time TXT) 📗

other man's head bob up and down, his eyes were hooded, his lips parted, his fingers caressing Khial's face in an encouraging motion.

Khial straightened and Chanyn saw both men's—she could barely even think the word—penises. Dain's long and pink, Khial's dark and thick. Khial plunged himself inside Dain and the two panted and moaned their way to ecstasy.

Chanyn felt herself growing warm, just like when she read the vivid love scenes in her novels. Only she'd never read of two men making love to one another. Of course, she knew it happened in this day and age. She knew that after the environmental, biochemical and finally, nuclear destruction wrought by men, that female births became scarce as Mother Nature closed her womb to mankind. Chanyn knew she had two fathers somewhere out in the world. Her mother rarely spoke of her mates, and never in a kind fashion. Chanyn knew they'd been turned out of her mother's home after conception. With their work done, there was no further need to keep them around.

Men were perverts, her mother insisted. They only wanted sex, and would draw a woman away from her true calling as a thinking, rational, sacred vessel. Women were a repository of knowledge, not semen, her mother would say. All women, thought her mother, would be best to leave the brutes to the judgment of the Goddess for their wicked ways.

Chanyn listened to her mother's words. She read the required texts. But she'd also read books on the banned shelf of their home. Those books with their racy covers showed men embracing women. They told of chivalry and alpha males and true love.

Chanyn dreamed of that world. A world where a man looked at her with the intensity Khial gazed upon Dain. A world where a man caressed her body with the care that Dain showed Khial.

Chanyn panted along with the men as they both reached their climax. The ache between her thighs nearly unbearable, with the possibility of relief so close, separated from her only by cloth and glass.

She pressed her thighs together as Khial curled up on Dain's chest and fell asleep. Chanyn had slept alone her entire life. Her mother never once tucked her in, as she’d read in children's books. Or gave her a hug, like she read parents did, in the books in the young adult section of her home.

So, this is what love looked like; beautiful, peaceful.

What would it be like to be held? To be kissed? To feel that sense of security in another's arms?

As though he heard her heart's plea, Dain turned his head towards the glass. His eyes looked right at hers.

Chanyn gasped. Embarrassed, she jerked back.

But Dain continued to regard her with neither a smile nor a frown. One hand rested behind his own head to provide a cushion for himself, the fingers of the other hand played along the sleeping Khial's spine. Both men lay in their full glory on the mattress. Dain made no move to cover himself or his lover. He simply regarded Chanyn with an open expression that allowed her to look, as though asking her to... consider.

Chanyn's hand instinctively covered her pounding heart. She closed her eyes and rose from her place on the floor. On quiet feet, she made her way back to her room, in the darkness. The sun had set. The moon gave her little light, but she knew the way like the back of her hand. Once in her room she sank down onto her mattress with eyes wide open. Her mind whirling as she tried to grab onto its myriad of thoughts. It should not have been so difficult. Her mother raised a rational thinker.

Earlier, she'd thought Dain took an interest in her. His encouraging smiles sparked hope in her chest. His amused laugh made her want. With all the attention he'd paid her, Chanyn thought perhaps Dain might be interested in her. And then, to see him in the thralls of passion with his lover...

Perhaps, Dain was simply setting her straight about with whom his interests lay?

Or perhaps, Dain wanted her to join them in the bed?

Chanyn hoped it was the latter idea. She saw no commitment ring on either of the men's fingers telling that they were bonded to a woman. Perhaps they were looking for one. If they were, Chanyn would volunteer in a heartbeat. It was everything she'd ever wanted. To be loved, and to give love in return.

The idea of being nestled inside that cocoon of love shared between not one, but two, men was more than Chanyn ever hoped for. She sent up a silent prayer to the Goddess, clinging to the dream as she drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, Chanyn woke with a start. She'd dreamed of running her fingers through sun-colored hair while strong brown fingers caressed her body. Her sheets were soaked, but her chest was full of hope.

Making her way downstairs, she saw that the men were already awake and dressed. Khial sat with his pack over his shoulder, glancing impatiently out the window. He looked up when she approached, his face closed. Chanyn remembered his face from the night before, so open and vulnerable as he'd taken his lover on the mattress. No look of wonder or love now, in his eyes, as his gaze slipped over her.

Chanyn's hope dissipated.

"Good morning, my lady. Did you sleep well?"

Chanyn turned to the dining area by the fire pit. They'd been in her garden. She saw a plate of berries and a few strips of yesterday's meat laid out for her. Towering over the offering was Dain's smiling face. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt that highlighted his tanned skin and golden locks.

"I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of making your first meal."

Dain held the plate out to her then pulled out her chair. Chanyn's knees went wobbly at the chivalric gesture.

"Thank you," she managed, as she sat down.

Dain rested a hand on