"Mm, just like that," Eames purred, cradling Arthur's jaw with his fingers while his thumb slid in and out from first joint to second between his swollen lips. "You're so good at this."
Arthur hummed contentedly around Eames' thumb. Ariadne smiled and caught Eames' eye over Arthur's head to communicate her joy at feeling the rumble through his back against her breast. Eames' opposite thumb brushed Arthur's cheekbone as he tightened his grip on the upper half of his face. It was remarkable how a hand closed over his eyes the moment they stepped into this hotel room had transformed intense, fastidious Arthur, made him languid, giddy and pliable. Eames had switched hands once he'd guided Arthur onto the bed and got the two of them positioned the way he wanted, his palm now pressing upside down on Arthur's forehead with the ball of his thumb and the padded knuckle bed of his index finger over his eyelids, the loose web stretched over the bridge of his nose.
"You know," Ari said, gazing down at Arthur's face, watching the muscles of his cheek shifting as he sucked and feeling that tense-and-release pulse in his neck where the back of his head rested against her shoulder, "I didn't really get it at first. Why people would want to have sex in the dream, I mean. It's not real, I thought."
"And now?" Eames asked between kisses to Arthur's chest as he took his time unbuttoning his dress shirt, without taking his hands away from his face.
"Now I can hardly understand why we ever use it for anything else."
With her back propped on pillows against the headboard, Ari had the privilege of watching Eames work the way she'd never have the presence of mind to were he working on her, and of seeing and feeling the consequences through Arthur, sprawled out between her legs. She returned his pleased and lightly conspiratorial grin as he unbuckled Arthur's belt, while simultaneously spreading open his shirt, pushing his undershirt up to his armpits and skimming fingertips over the smooth skin of his ribs, covering his eyes and rubbing his thumb over and into his trembling mouth. She stroked Arthur's hair and hipbone, and otherwise kept out of Eames' way.
Arthur moaned and slid further down the bed when Eames tugged his pants and boxers down, pushing his hips up towards the hands now caressing his erection and curling fingers behind his balls. The curve of his torso splayed Ariadne's thighs wider apart and ground his spine into the heat between them, making her close her eyes and hiss into his temple.
"Oh," she breathed when she opened them again, rocking her pelvis against Arthur's back and marvelling at the sight of Eames working Arthur's cock with one hand, a twist and a tug at the end of each stroke, while his other hand stroked a finger up his crack, a third dug fingers into the muscle of his thigh while its match rolled a calloused thumb across Arthur's nipple, a fifth kept its grip on his sweat-filmed forehead and the last drove three fingers into his mouth up to the joint. "What a beautiful dream."
It wasn't until a fourth pair appeared, gripping his upper arms and angling him back upright when it looked like his ceaseless squirming was about to tip him over and drag Ari with him, that Arthur pulled his lips off Eames' fingers with a wet grunt. "Wait," he said, and Eames lifted the hand off his eyes but kept it close to shade them, blinking red-rimmed and sensitive. His flushed face twisted up in puzzlement. "How many—"
"Exactly the right number, darling. Don't you worry about it."
Arthur nodded, accepting that, and closed his eyes again. Eames took the opportunity to crack his knuckles and stretch his wrist before resuming his duty as a blindfold.
Ariadne giggled, then yelped when Eames pinched her ribs.
"Watch yourself, sweetheart. Our dear Arthur may be many kinds of handful, but remember whose imagination you're in. Here the only limit to my grasp is my reach."
"Is that so?" Ari said, nudging Eames' leg with her foot. "You know I've got quite an imagination too, and I am really looking forward to letting it loose on you."
Arthur nodded in agreement and nipped at the fingers resting against his lips. Eames beamed and leaned forward to kiss each of them, rocking his weight onto their bodies as his many hands went back to work.