Free Bee Among the Clover by Fae Sutherland, Marguerite Labbe

intense before, and it stole his breath. Aron reached his free hand over to catch Roman behind the neck and tug him half across Wulfgar’s body to kiss him deeply as he stroked him and Wulfgar thrust his fingers deep.
He seemed to be too lost in need to contemplate resisting, and Aron groaned as Roman melted and surrendered so completely to the kiss. It was thrilling, sending a surge through him, a power he hadn’t ever experienced before. Heady and dark, it made him wonder just what it would be like to have Roman this frantic for him alone, if it was he who controlled the slave’s pleasure the way Wulfgar did.
Roman mewled, helpless under Aron and Wulfgar’s duel assault, writhing, legs spreading wide for them both, rocking his hips between Wulfgar’s thrusting fingers and Aron’s stroking hand, his breath coming in fast pants against Aron’s devouring lips.
Aron growled in response to Roman’s desperate whimpers, his heart pounding as he stroked the slave’s cock. Roman’s mouth became even more pliant under the heated onslaught, and he submitted to him as completely as he had to Wulfgar. Aron was stunned by the desire to grip him and pin him and claim him in a way he had never contemplated doing with anyone, let alone another man.
“Come for us, my pretty one,” Wulfgar whispered, reminding Aron of his presence, and an instant later Roman broke the kiss with a harsh, sobbing cry.
Aron couldn’t tear his eyes away as Roman bit his upper lip hard, writhing, ecstasy playing on his features as his body stiffened. Aron watched, stunned, as the slave came apart for them, still stroking Roman’s cock as it throbbed and spilled over his hand.
Almost instantly, the thane withdrew his fingers and slapped Roman lightly on the buttock. Aron followed him with his eyes as he scurried to return with damp cloths for them to clean themselves off with before Wulfgar gathered each of them against his sides with a languid-sounding exhale.
The thane bid them sleep, and Aron didn’t even think to resist. He was too replete and too astounded by his own reactions to what had just occurred. He had sworn from the beginning it would never happen, that there was no way he could or would ever feel pleasure from what Wulfgar did to him. But there was no way to deny, especially to himself, that he had more than enjoyed it, he had actively participated.
He lifted his eyes, glancing across the thane’s body to Roman, his head lying on that broad chest. He had his eyes closed at first and then, as if sensing Aron’s gaze, lifted thick lashes to reveal the implacable dark eyes. Neither Roman nor Aron spoke, and later Aron would wonder why he did it, but before he could stop himself, he slid his hand and took Roman’s in his grasp.
The slave’s brows furrowed, and his gaze flicked down to their entwined hands, but he didn’t try to pull away. Aron was too exhausted to think about anything, and he let his eyes drift shut again, gratefully succumbing to the pull of sleep.
    R
OMAN walked away from the mead hall, pwalked away from the mead hall, pulling the hood of his cloak up against the cold. It had snowed the night before, and the pristine whiteness was still unbroken between the main gate and the stand of trees a good distance up the hill. He needed to get out and think for a bit. He was too enclosed, remaining in Wulfgar’s room the way he had been. He paused at the line of trees looking down into the yard where Osric was busy sparring with one of the other battle-lords, Aron looking on as usual, his arms folded on top of the fencepost. Then Aron glanced in his direction, and Roman turned to walk into the trees, letting their silence envelop him.
His mind whirled with all of the changes in the past weeks. At first, he’d been frantic when Wulfgar had started to pay all of his attention to Aron. His safety and sanity depended on Wulfgar’s goodwill. It would be different if the thane would just let him go, but he’d never known