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This is Rosita. I'll hit you back when I can.

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The flash of pain, the skin between sharp teeth, makes him hiss, and he raises up in a flinch, against where Rosita has positioned herself. "Keep that up and I won't last," he mutters.

He tangles his fighters tighter in her hair and kisses her deeply once she's free. With a grin, he adds: "You can touch and get fucked."

Two of them are still learning one another; they're all learning each other together, whatever this is, or isn't. She notices the way Jacob hisses, the way he twitches against her, even before he says anything.

Then Astarion is bidding her to join him, and she twists to shift around behind him, too, still watching where the pair of them are leaned together.

"Always happy to be helpful," she murmurs, and slides her hand down from Astarion's elbow to his wrist and then where his fingers are pressed into Jacob's body; she doesn't usually have to do this, but it's not that she has zero experience, and she's sure to twist her finger into the available lube as well on the way to sliding her shorter digit in alongside Astarion's.

Astarion feels her slide her smaller, warmer finger into him, alongside his own, and nuzzles against Jacob's neck. Kisses him over and over, runs his tongue delicately over the spot he bit.

"There you go, Jacob," he purrs. "How does it feel?"

Three is entirely too many, he thinks, but, of course, hes proven wrong. He tries not to push back on them, tries not to rock his hips, but it's so much. He's rendered speechless for a moment, feeling very much the pampered prince with all hands on him.

"Fucking hell," he manages to gasp before he actually begs. "Please, goddammit."

Astarion has the teasing under control - the working in and out, the twisting. Rosita lets hers be steady, curling inside him, both stimulating and encouraging him to relax.

It's fascinating, and intimate in a way she hasn't experienced before; she kisses Astarion's hip shoulder where she's leaned close, steadies Jacob's hip with her spare hand.

"Just hold on," she soothes. "You're doing so well -"

"You want more, don't you?" Astarion nips his ear. "I can feel you twitching. You're ready for it, mm?"

Gods know he needs more, his cock is throbbing like a bruise, but his instinct is to decide that this isn't about him.

"Yeah," he all but moans. "Yeah, I fucking want more."

He doesn't want to hold on; he wants more of them. More of this that is not just sex, but actual intimacy in a form he can't resist. He's the most vulnerable he's ever been, yet he's never felt safer.

Rosita hums her approval, slides her finger once more around and then pulls it free to slide down and forward, to fondle him from behind.

It presses her against Astarion's side, so she sets her chin on his shoulder, loops her arm around to trace a finger along the length of his cock, too.

"I think he's good and ready for more, darling - and you're not far off either."

"Positively ready to burst," he admits, closing his eyes for a moment. "Hells-"

He draws his fingers free, slicking his wet fingers over his straining erection, and wastes no time in sinking into Jacob now they're both halfway feverish for it. He barely muffles a groan against his shoulder.

He's both ready and not, so when Astarion pushes into him, he bites back a deep moan. He's too goddamn full, feeling like he's going to tear in half, but he's desperate for more. His own cock leaks desperately for release, and he dare not touch himself for fear he won't last to Rosita.

Out of his mouth spills a stream of filthy swears, both begging and aching for more. He always thought that this sort of thing would feel so emasculating, that he'd never want this with anyone, but he doesn't feel diminished under either of those touches. He's alive and raw and desperate for them, just as they are for him.

God, the noises they both make - the way Jacob, less stoic than he once was perhaps but still readily described as such, falls apart. She stays where she is for the moment, close, a hand left draped and idly tracing on both of their skin: Jacob's flushed and warm, Astarion's cool and dry.

She'll move around in a moment, give Jacob something to fuck into, make them both feel good; for now, she enjoys the show from her front row seat.

"You feel so good," Astarion breathes in his ear, his body stilling against Jacob's when their bodies draw flush. He kisses his shoulder, his nape, hands running up and down his body and over his thighs. He can feel how tense he is, and it's delicious.

"How does he look?" he asks Rosita.

He's tense, body rigid under Astarion's touch, but only for as long as it takes him to willfully relax. He closes his eyes, melting into him.

"I'd look better with you right here," he tells Rosita once he can trust his voice, stroking his cock with the lightest of touches.

"The man's not wrong," she admits, feeling the same things Astarion is - the same things, from the outside, that Jacob is.

"Strong," she answers Astarion - her hand trails through his fine, white hair as she shifts over on the bed again, eases back down to her back again. "You're gorgeous - both of you. Nothing hotter than a man can admit what he wants." She slides to where she can see the both of them above her, knees dropping open, dark eyes heavy. "Whenever you're ready."

"Doesn't she look gorgeous, waiting for you?" Astarion murmurs. He leans forward slowly, not so much pushing him as just letting him move to where he wants to be without pulling their bodies apart.

"I can't wait to watch you. Feel you. Take what you need, Jacob."

It takes a bit of movement, a little of Jacob moaning as he feels Astarion's cock shift inside of him, but he maneuvers himself to where he wants. His hands find their way to her hips, holding her so tightly that he's afraid he might bruise her - or he would be, if he was thinking about it. He guides himself inside with a held-back groan, tasting blood from biting his cheek.

"Oh god," he mutters, ducking his head. The three of them settle there together for a moment, and Jacob doesn't know how he could ever want anything but this.

The pressure borders on painful but in the best way; she cants her hips to help him, holds steady and moans as he sinks into her - as he lowers down to where she can slide her arms up around Jacob's neck to pull him to her, leave her hand resting on Astarion's chest above him.

She shivers, licks her lips and breathes: "Perfect," and: "Fuck us."

Astarion puts one hand over Rosita's, holding onto her as his other hand grips Jacob's shoulder for a little more leverage.

He rolls his hips slowly, drawing out and grinding in, then pulling back and - as much as it's torture - refusing himself another thrust into the tight heat gripping the head of his cock. Inviting Jacob to do as Rosita's asked, to fuck them both.

Jacob leans down to kiss her, a filthy sort of groan leaving him at it, and then he props himself up with one hand. He rocks out of her, never leaving completely, and into Astarion, only to push back the other way. It takes a moment to find his rhythm, but once he does, he can take his entire mind out of the moment and focus just on the two of them, how they feel. It's an ever-constant assault of sensation and pleasure that arcs up his back. Tight heat and immense pressure, no way for him to catch a break.

And he loves it.

"Fuck, you both are going to fucking ruin me," he laments, not at all serious.

"Try to beat us to it then," she challenges, breath hitching when he bottoms out in her for a moment, groaning when he pulls back.

She watches his face, the way his expression shifts as he moves from working out what he needs to do to finding it. It's the hottest thing she's ever seen with Astarion just behind and above him.

"You can go harder," she invites. Encourages.

"You should go harder," Astarion agrees, giving him a little thrust, as if he'll fuck Rosita right through him if he doesn't take the initiative.

The thought of that - of driving Jacob's body into hers through sheer force - is undeniably exciting, but he's restraining himself. He does, however, give the back of his neck an encouragingly sharp little bite, just enough to bring up two pinpricks of blood.

Never let it be said that he isn't obedient, especially when his own desires line up exactly with what's being asked.

He takes a few more shallow thrusts, then starts to drive harder into her, only to meet Astarion in the same way when he pulls out. He actually cries out from it, the pleasure ripping a deep groan from his chest.

"Fuck."

He's not going to last like this, but he curls his toes, gripping the sheets with white knuckles, snapping his hips against them.

"Yes -!" she moans when he kicks into another gear, when she's able to relax enough into it that the friction is only pleasurable now, no longer vaguely uncomfortable as she warms up.

And she is warming up now, arousal building in her with teeth again. Her hand on Astarion is actively holding onto him now as she figures out how to rock up to meet Jacob, as she realizes she can feel Astarion passing their lover back to her with his own rhythm.

"Fuck yes, just like that, keep going -"

Astarion is very, very good at this - knowing exactly how to thrust in counterpoint to Jacob's movements, filling him up when he pulls out of Rosita and drawing back when he pushes in.

He feels good, every sensation and each cry of pleasure bringing him closer to that edge, and still he feels himself retreating into his own head. Playing the role and giving them exactly what they need even as he dissociates, his face pressed between Jacob's shoulders to conceal the distant glaze of his eyes.

"You're close, aren't you?" he murmurs against Jacob's skin, sounding heated, lust-drunk, present in a way he can't quite feel. "I can feel you aching for it, Jacob-"

He can't hear it in his words, can't hear the way he leaves, but he does hear his name and reaches back, searching for Astarion's hand, that closeness he's come to get used to.

He presses hot, desperate kisses to Rosita's mouth. "Yeah," he pants. "God..."

Jacob was doomed from the start between them, every sight and sound and feeling pushing him close before he ever got in this position. So he bites back a cry, a gruff moan, and buries his face in Rosita's neck as he spills himself inside of her.