Free Songbird by Maya Banks

thicker and built stockier, if you could call his muscular build stocky. A light smattering of hair covered his chest, lending the dips and lines a more rugged appearance.
    He stood, legs apart, his erection heavy and distended. He watched her as she watched him, his gaze intense.
    She wanted to touch them both. She wanted to melt into their arms, feel their heat against her skin. She wanted them to never let her go again.
    “Emmy.”
    She turned her head at Taggert’s softly spoken request.
    “Come here,” he said as he extended his hand.
    She went willingly, curling her fingers trustingly into his. As he pulled her to him, she skimmed her palm over his taut belly and up the hard wall of his chest. The roll of his muscles told her he wasn’t unaffected. He trembled against her and sucked in his breath.
    “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for you?” Taggert whispered as he ducked again to take her mouth.
    There was more urgency this time, as if he no longer had the patience for gentle wooing. He feasted on her. There was no other word for it.
    Unable to resist the temptation, she lowered her hand, reaching down to cup him intimately. He flinched and let out a moan when her fingers curled around his rigid length.
    She stroked carefully, enjoying the different textures, the roughness and the softness, the plump vein on the underside and then the supple roll of his sac as she massaged.
    He thrust against her hand, his body pressing against hers. And then Greer’s palm stroked lazily over her behind, his finger teasing her cleft and the sensitive region just below the small of her back.
    She turned, her other hand going out to cup him just as intimately as she held Taggert. It was a shock, the sensation of steel in both her hands. So much power, and yet they were as vulnerable to her as she was to them.
    Each caress brought her pleasure but gave them more. She explored their lengths, marveling at their differences and similarities. She would take both of them into her body. She’d have it no other way, for they both occupied her heart, her soul. Now she needed a physical bond.
    “Love me,” she begged.
    With a groan, Greer pulled her to face him. His hand stuttered clumsily over her face, but she didn’t care. His movements were jerky, but he was so tender, so cognizant of just how big a turning point this was.
    He lowered his mouth, taking her lips in the softest of kisses.
    Behind her, Taggert framed her shoulders then trailed his lips up the curve of her neck, nibbling a path to her ear.
    It was as if a drug invaded her blood. The dual sensations of hungry mouths feasting on her skin sent her pulse soaring. Lightheaded. She was perilously close to falling. Her legs went weak then buckled.
    Two pairs of hands caught her, held her, even as Taggert’s and Greer’s lips never left her body. She sighed, little breathy sounds of contentment she hadn’t uttered in so long.
    She’d missed this. Having such an erotic connection with a man. It had been so long since desire had warmed her veins, simmered in her depths just waiting to be called to the surface.
    Lonely. She’d spent the last year being so lonely she ached. It still hurt to think of all the nights she’d spent in numb silence, her only memories of Sean and his love.
    Hot tears sloshed over the rims of her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. It wasn’t even sadness that prompted her emotional outburst. She was quite simply overwhelmed.
    “Don’t cry, sweet pea.”
    Greer cupped her face and kissed away the damp trails. Then his mouth fused hungrily to hers again. He pressed forward and Taggert pulled her back. They bumped into the bed and went down in a tangle of arms and legs.
    She came to rest on her side, Taggert melded to her back, his palm sliding sensuously over her hip, her waist and up to cup her breast. Greer leaned up on his elbow in front of her, and he stroked his hand through her hair, pulling each strand and letting it dangle from