A Quartet of Pleasures

by Joseph, Annabel

  “Look at you. I want to fuck you,” he said, his thumb making lazy circles over her jugular. “I need to fuck you.”

  She struggled under him, her bare stomach rubbing across his tight abs.

  “What’s wrong, baby? What do you need? Do you need me to fuck you up?”

  Yes, that was what she wanted, with his rough, grasping energy. She’d fought him to the point of exhaustion. Now the only thing to do was submit, especially with him squeezing her neck. She nodded, tears rising in her eyes. This was so intense.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, low and soft. He released his hold on her neck and pushed back her hair. “I can’t be too rough our first time.”

  “No. You can be.”

  “You little slut.”

  He said it with a smile, and she laughed.

  “Don’t fucking move.” He barked that order and reached past her, yanking open a drawer in the nightstand. He took out a condom and tossed it on the bed beside her head. While she was still staring over at it, he tugged down her sleep pants and they were gone. His pants were next. God, his cock was clearly visible through his tight white boxer briefs. It was deliciously big, and kind of scary.

  “No,” she said, remembering their playacting.

  “Oh, yes.”

  “No.”

  He was on her again, his arm gripping her waist when she tried to escape him. The other hand grasped her face, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Do you feel me? Do you feel this?”

  He pressed his cock to her pussy, through two layers of underwear that might as well have been nonexistent, the way he ground against her. Hell, she was grinding too, even though she disguised it as an attempt to evade him. She reared up as he tore her bra over her head. The condom went flying, not that either of them noticed as he fastened his lips onto one of her nipples and bit it hard enough to make her cringe.

  “Don’t,” she said, pushing him away, but she wanted him to bite her harder.

  When she grabbed his hair, feeling frantic, he took both her hands and pinned them above her, which was exactly what she needed. It made things worse, but so much better.

  “Oh my good Lord,” she whispered. “I’m so fucking ready. If you don’t fuck me soon, I’m going to die.”

  He took off her soaked panties and threw them over his shoulder. To her relief, they didn’t land anywhere near his cello. He knelt over her and shimmied his boxers down, so his cock was there, right in front of her, even more impressive now that it wasn’t constrained. He hunted for the condom, pushing her back when she made a half-hearted bid for a freedom she didn’t want.

  “Don’t fucking move.” He eyed her as he rolled it on. “You asked for this.”

  Don’t smile. Don’t laugh with happiness, you’ll ruin everything. Instead, she tried to turn onto her stomach. He flipped her back over, his hands rough but still careful, then pushed her legs apart and positioned his cock at her entrance.

  She fought him even as he pushed into her. Between his girthy cock, her crazy-level arousal, and the rough way he took her, she was already climbing toward orgasm, but she didn’t want to come yet. Steve’s body was beautiful in the filtered afternoon light, his muscles working as he arched over her.

  “Oh, yes, yes,” she whispered. “Yes, more. I mean no…no more.”

  He gave her more, until his thrusts moved her across his sprawling mattress. She grabbed the sheets to brace herself. His hand was on her neck again, squeezing, pressing her back onto the bed when she resisted. He made a pleased sound when she gave in and lay under him, powerless.

  “You feel good,” he said, his lips against hers. “So good, so tight. I’ve wanted to fuck you forever.”

  “I’m going to come.” She clenched his cock as he pinched one of her nipples. “Oww. You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “Did I say that?”

  He pinched harder, and she practically climbed his body, even though she was trapped on her back. He finally kissed her after teasing and pinching her. His hand closed over her breast as she bucked against him, and she stopped trying to hold off her climax because it wasn’t possible anymore.

  “I can’t even… I can’t.” She pushed at him, dying, crying out. “Nooo…”

  She came so hard her teeth chattered together. Steve’s scent, his outsize presence, his passion, his piercing blue gaze all set her off in a squeezing, squirming orgasm, and she still fought him, even as she quaked in satisfaction. They were playing, and it was exquisite.

  “I can’t anymore,” she begged as he lifted her from the bed.

  “You can.”

  “I can’t. Well. Maybe.”

  He grunted out a laugh as he wrestled her onto her stomach. Before she could catch her breath—or get over the pulsing pleasure of her orgasm—he yanked her up onto her hands and knees and grasped her hips. He thrust back into her, pounding her doggy style. When she braced her fists against the mattress, whining for effect, he pushed her shoulders down and held her there, and the climax that had just left her flared to life again. She was so wound up, so connected to him and his wild sex energy…

  He kissed her neck and bit her ear lobe, then lay along her back, one knee still jammed into the mattress. He planted his other leg beside her, using the leverage to fuck her deeper and harder than before. She moaned as his strokes lengthened. He gradually grew less rough, and more attuned to her movements. Because, yes, she was going to come again.

  Oh God, he was hitting her G-spot, definitely her G-spot. She clutched the sheets and collapsed beneath him, grinding on the bed, and that was how she came the second time, a sob escaping her lips as he fucked the hell out of her pulsing pussy. He put his hand back on her neck as he came too, exerting hot, steady pressure, using his grip to hold her still as he accomplished his final act of conquering.

  As her orgasm rolled on, every muscle tensed and every inch of her body zinged with pleasure. He jerked his hips one final time with a groan. She squeezed on his length, wishing he’d stay there forever. Well, for a few more orgasms, anyway.

  But no, she was done now. Fucked to the limit. When he finally released his grip on her neck, she had the sensation of falling. His rough fingertips had been a centering force, and now she was set free, untethered. She reached back for him as he pulled away to take care of the condom. Maybe she was crying. Maybe she made a desperate sound.

  “It’s okay, baby.” He was back in a heartbeat, turning her on her side and pulling her against him. “Shh. I’ve got you. Everything’s okay.”

  She clung to him, her pelvis still warm and heavy with pleasure. He wrapped her in a huge embrace, a teddy bear embrace that was the embodiment of Steve as she’d known him, before he showed her his wilder, rougher side.

  She liked both sides of him. She couldn’t explain that now. She was too tired and fucked out, but she did manage to say, “I liked that. I really liked that.”

  He hugged her tighter. “I could tell.”

  They kissed again, a we-survived kiss, a thank-you kiss. A relieved, slightly wondering kiss. Did we just do that? Was it really that fucking hot?

  “Jesus, that was a long time coming,” he said when the kiss ended.

  She nodded and touched her lips. He’d nipped her at the end, just as he had before. Now she understood why. He was a savage in bed, a wild animal, and he couldn’t help biting.

  Now that she was calmer, she stretched her muscles a little and smiled at him.

  He smiled back. “You still all in one piece?”

  She nodded. “For now.”

  The sun shone on them, rising higher in the sky. For once, she didn’t want it to melt the snow. She’d thoroughly enjoyed being trapped in Steve’s clutches, unable to get away. After a little rest, she wouldn’t mind getting trapped a second time. Maybe even a third.

  “This wasn’t the pajama party I expected,” she said, resting her head in the curve of his shoulder. “But it’s been pretty damn fun so far.”

  “So far,” he agre
ed. He stroked her hair, gazing down at her. “I wasn’t too rough for you, was I?”

  “Not yet, you weren’t,” she answered after a moment. “While I’m ‘stuck here,’ maybe we can figure out where that line is.”

  He twisted a lock of her hair and gave it a sharp tug. The glint in his eyes told her he was on board with that plan.

  5.

  Ruby drifted, warm and comfortable in Steve’s embrace. He was gentle now, not rough, because both of them were exhausted. They’d both apparently had a lot of pent-up lust and passion from the previous years of their friendship.

  It had been so much fun to play out all Steve’s favorite scenarios, even if they were totally inappropriate. Kidnapping victim, political prisoner, hiker lost in the woods. It had all felt dangerous and crazy as he overpowered her, and fucked the living daylights out of her, but then they went in the shower together and washed all of it off, and things were still fine. They kissed and stroked each other, recognizing that the trust they shared from their long-time friendship was the most exciting part of it all.

  “Thanks for letting me play with you.” He pulled her closer under the covers, resting his chin on top of her head. “It’s been a stellar fucking afternoon.”

  “Best afternoon I’ve spent with you thus far,” she agreed. “Well, except for that time we played Ravel’s Quartet in F and you twisted the shit out of the cello line.”

  “Aw, that was nothing.”

  “Don’t be modest. I still dream about it.”

  “You’re such a nerd.” He lifted her face to kiss her, then ended up on top of her, trying to overpower her again. She started humming the Ravel piece as he kissed and stroked her neck.

  “Don’t start choking me again,” she told him, pushing him back. “It’ll turn me on and I can’t fuck anymore. Not right now, anyway. Maybe later tonight.”

  There were more fantasies to play out, more experiments with wildness. She dreamed of him fucking her in a dark, deserted stairwell, or throwing her in the back of a windowless van. Then the sound of a knock drew her out of it.

  Steve paused, turning his head.

  “Someone’s at the door,” she said.

  “No. I cancelled the party before we got in the shower. Too much snow. And too much fucking.”

  “Someone’s here, though.”

  The knock sounded again. She heard some muffled voices she recognized.

  “It’s Jonathan and Ethan,” she said. “I guess they came anyway.”

  Steve released her and hauled himself up, muttering under his breath. “Why couldn’t they stay snowed in like normal people?” He pulled on some joggers and a sweatshirt, then tossed a sweatshirt to her. “It’s cold. You can wear this over your pajamas.”

  “I don’t want to get out of bed.” She’d have to get out of bed eventually, but for now she let Steve go and answer the door.

  “Hey, you’re here,” he said to his visitors. Even from the living room, she could make out the not-excited tone of his voice. “Didn’t you get my text?”

  “Got it. Ignored it,” said Ethan. “The trains are running.”

  “But the streets are still a mess.”

  She heard boots clunking in the foyer and suppressed a snicker. They were here to stay.

  “Brought some of that beer you like,” said Jonathan. Then, “Wow, what’s with all the cheese balls?”

  “Too bad Ruby’s not here.” Ethan’s comment carried a note of tension. “Have you heard from her? We’ve been texting all day, no answer.”

  “Oh, yeah. I’ve heard from her.”

  She stifled more laughter.

  “I mean, Ruby’s here. She came over last night,” said Steve, expanding on his answer. “Well, she thought the party was last night. She brought the cheese balls and we drank a little, and, uh, she ended up spending the night.”

  There was a silence, a pregnant pause, before Ethan replied. “Oh. Cool.”

  “Yeah,” said Steve, as Ruby pulled on her regrettably rumpled pajamas in the bedroom. “There was too much snow for her to go home.”

  “Hmm.” Even from the bedroom, she could hear the humor in Jonathan’s voice. “So you decided to keep each other warm?”

  “Well…” She heard Steve clear his throat. “We decided something like that.”

  Poor Steve, trying not to come right out and admit to her other two lovers that he’d fucked her most of the afternoon. She pulled on Steve’s huge heather-gray sweatshirt and made an appearance at his bedroom door.

  “Hi, guys. I couldn’t stay away from the pajama party either.”

  Ethan and Jonathan studied her, their gazes light with amusement. Steve blushed a deep red.

  “So, how long has this been going on?” asked Jonathan.

  She and Steve exchanged glances.

  “About six hours,” he said.

  “Yeah, if we’re being honest,” Ruby agreed.

  Ethan gave a low whistle. “I guess that was long overdue.”

  After a moment, Jonathan crossed his arms over his chest. “I want to know, but I don’t want to know. You know? So, should we leave you two alone? I mean, we rode spotty trains and traipsed through huge snow piles to get here, but—”

  “Don’t leave us alone,” said Steve, as Ruby burst into laughter.

  “Yes, please stay. Six hours is long enough. Too long. Plus the games we played last night were no fun with two people. The card games,” she clarified when Ethan’s brows shot up. “The card games need more people to be fun.”

  She’d said it. Now they were all thinking it. There were plenty of games that were fun with more people, and some of them could be played in the bedroom. Or was she the only one thinking it? Why was she such a wanton?

  Because these were her wonderful, musical friends and they all turned her on like wildfire.

  “Let’s set up a game and crack open the beer,” Steve said. “I’ve got food for the party in the kitchen. Put those down,” he told Ethan when he reached for the cheese balls. “Those are all mine.”

  “You know the way to Steve’s heart,” he said to Ruby, ignoring him to chomp down a handful.

  “And the way to other places,” Jonathan cracked. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

  “Nothing wrong with it at all,” Steve said, catching her gaze. His secret smile said it all. He might be blushing and bashful in front of the others, but he had no regrets—and neither did she.

  They all raided Steve’s kitchen for sandwiches, chips, and cookies he’d bought for the party, then Steve and Ruby set up the Trivial Pursuit: Music Edition game board, which was always good for creating lengthy, heated competition between them. It was also the least risqué game Steve owned, but Lord, they’d had enough sex for one day.

  “Let’s play,” she said, smiling at her three most favorite guys in the world. She settled in with a bottle of cider at the coffee table, comfy in Steve’s big, thick sweatshirt. Her toes curled in her fuzzy socks and everything felt perfect.

  As perfect as Steve’s Quartet in F, even, and that was a magnificent thing.

  The Full Concerto

  Where Ruby Gets a Birthday Present

  1.

  Ruby got to rehearsal just in time, weaving between Jonathan and Ethan’s chairs and waving at Steve in a silent “hello.” She took off her hat and wet coat and shivered, chattering her teeth for effect.

  “I hate February.”

  “You might like it more if you got a decent coat,” said Jonathan, as Ethan offered her his sweater, still warm from his body heat. “Something that’s actually weatherproof. Your violin is more protected than you are.”

  “Because my violin is more valuable than I am.”

  Jonathan tsked and thumped her on the head. “That’s not true.”

  “Anyway, my violin always has a weatherproof case. I have to remember to pick up the right coat on my way out the door. I knew it was cold, but I didn’t realize it was rainy.”

  “You’re a mess,” s
aid Steve.

  She stuck out her tongue at him and collapsed in her chair, and pulled Ethan’s sweater over her head before taking out her violin. She tightened her bow while the other guys settled into their seats and readied their instruments. Soon the sound of bowing and tuning filled their rehearsal space.

  “What are we playing today?” asked Ethan, once the din settled down.

  Steve passed around some bound portfolios, marked with their various parts—violin 1, violin 2, viola, and his own part, cello. “I’ve got this new—old—music, in case you don’t still have it in your folders.”

  “How old?” Ethan groaned.

  “It’s the Schoenberg Concerto,” said Ruby, flipping it open. She leafed through the first few pages, then hugged it to her chest. “Oh, Schoeny, I’ve missed you. We haven’t done this in forever.”

  “We haven’t done this since the Banff Competition three years ago,” said Ethan. “Why are we revisiting it now?”

  “Because we have to perfect it.” Jonathan, too, flipped through the pages. “The entire damn thing, because we’re going to be playing it for a guest appearance.”

  Ruby and Ethan both turned to Steve, who arranged their bookings.

  “Remember when I sent a recording of us to the Berlin Philharmonic?” he said. “The recording from our Los Angeles Symphony collaboration last fall? Turns out they fucking loved it. They want us to perform with them during their spring festival.”

  “No way,” said Ruby, shocked. “No way. This isn’t real.”

  “It is real, and we’re getting the celebrity treatment—first class plane tickets, swanky hotel, limos, and all the room service we can eat.”

  Ruby looked down at the violin she held, and saw her fingers shaking a little. The Berlin Philharmonic was the top symphony in the world, and if they esteemed them enough to give them the “celebrity treatment,” then…