Aleister’s lips slid to my neck, and he found the sensitive area near the base and started to give me a hickey. I moaned and rubbed my hand against both of their erections through Aleister’s jeans and Sioux’s pajama pants.
“Sioux…are you sure your…leg…” I spoke through my panting; to say I was easily turned on by them was an understatement.
“My leg is fine, don’t worry,” he said in a rush. Then his mouth clamped onto my other nipple. Aleister slid his hand past the waistband of my tights, and my hips moved restlessly against it as he found my clitoris. He started to rub it in small circles, and I groaned with need while my sex clenched. Delicious pleasure curled through me, I was already ready for them, and it didn’t take much. Before I could orgasm, I sat up on my knees and worked on Aleister’s pants first and then carefully got Sioux’s off. My hand still grazed the back of his thigh, and I was shocked to find his skin all smooth and nearly healed as if he’d never been shot!
I paused with surprise and looked down to inspect his thigh as he laughed at me. “See, all better,” he chuckled.
“Oh…” I smiled at him, but then got distracted by Aleister lightly biting my shoulder. He’d undressed completely already. I pushed Sioux’s shirt over his head and trailed kisses from his shoulder blade to the tip of his cock. I did the same for Aleister, only I flicked my tongue along the base of his cock then took him into my mouth. I went back and forth between the two until they were rigid in my hands. Aleister curled over me to slide his fingers in my folds. I knew I was super wet by the sound of appreciation he made in the back of his throat. Sioux pulled me on top of him so that my knees straddled his hips. He rubbed the head of his cock against my clit, and I felt Aleister’s tongue fluttering over my anus, he’d done it before, and I’d been surprised at how good it felt. That in tandem with what Sioux was doing and my entire body was tightly strung, ready to explode at any second.
Sioux finally positioned himself at my entrance, and he pushed into me. As soon as he did, I climaxed in an intense rush. Aleister pushed his finger into me back there and thrust it gently before adding another finger. It wasn’t long until another finger joined, when he seemed satisfied he removed his hand, and I felt the blunt head of his cock slowly pushing into me. The feeling of fullness, of being stretched tight, was beyond words. I cried out, unable to do anything but. Sioux and Aleister moved in tandem, their rhythms playing off of each other’s even as they thrust harder and faster into me.
I knew that my next orgasm would be devastating. I was focused on nothing but the sensations coursing through me. I gripped them tighter and tighter until my joints felt like jelly and my entire body was strained towards the coming orgasm, and when it happened my body convulsed with wave after wave of pleasure. The sounds of Sioux and Aleister’s shared pleasure and their still intense pace sent me shooting off into another orgasm having hardly recovered from the one before it. They came at the same time. They released into me, and I felt that we’d just had a true joining, symbolic of my being their shared woman.
“That was…a good call,” Aleister said as he regained his breath. He slowly pulled out of me as did Sioux. All I could do was smile against Sioux’s chest. I couldn’t move. I literally couldn’t move.
“Hey, Holden?” Aleister asked. All I could manage was a grunt, and they both chuckled.
“I can’t even…” I sighed, practically unable to turn my head.
“I think we wore her out good,” Sioux said, clearly proud of himself.
“…move,” I finally finished my earlier sentence. Aleister laughed at that and picked me up off of Sioux.
“How about a bath?” he asked. I had a Jacuzzi tub that was big enough for us all if we really believed.
“Yes please,” I mumbled. Aleister kissed me and went to go get the bath going. Sioux picked me up and walked into the bathroom to lower me into the already warm water.
“I love you,” Sioux whispered in my ear. I gave him a crooked, half-drunk grin and he gave me a soft lingering kiss on the lips.
Aleister stepped into the tub while Sioux went on the hunt for bath salts. Aleister held my gaze intently before he said it.
“I love you, Holden,” his tone sure and solemn. My smile grew impossibly bigger, and I sat forward to meet his kiss.
“Do you think we could end the day like this all the time?” Sioux asked curiously.
“I’m sure we could,” I chuckled. “But I might be permanently high off of the large dopamine levels you guys give me,” I said.
“That’s our job, to keep you so satisfied you can’t even move,” Sioux said.
“So now that we’re technically engaged…is there a ceremony for our situation?” I asked curiously.
“Yes, there is. But it is small and private and pretty free form. We just give and accept vows.” Aleister said.
“So, do you guys promise vows to each other?” I asked curiously.
“We can, yeah. But mostly it’d be a vow of brotherhood and respect and stuff like that.” Sioux explained as he got into the bath with us.
“I like the sound of that; It seems fitting for me,” I relaxed well into the tub. Aleister took my feet in his lap and lifted one leg to kiss the sole of my foot.
“We’re fitting for you.” Sioux corrected me.
“Exactly fitting,” I said, smiling at both of them.
About the Author
Henley Maverick lives in Northern California with her husband and fur baby, and when she's not writing, she's reading, shoe shopping, or at the beach.
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Also by Henley Maverick
All books are available on Amazon. Signed copies available on Henley’s website.
Stuck with the Mountain Man on Amazon, iTunes, B&N and Kobo
Expose on Amazon, iTunes, B&N and Kobo
Just One Night FREE on Amazon, iTunes, B&N and Kobo
Always
The Lust Duet: Untamed and Unbroken
Seduction
Royally Addicted
Love Affair with the Billionaire
Forbidden Lessons
Second Chances
Spark
Right Reasons
Sneak Peek
The Billionaire’s Second Chance will be available April 21.
Chapter 1
Time felt endless.
It was almost as if she was caught in a cycle, a loop playing on repeat. Life was suddenly like one of those old records with a scratch that kept repeating the same line, no matter how many times it started over; always fixated on the same flaw, the same error. She remembered what it felt like to hear her father reminisce about the time of the record player—a gramophone. Even the name sounded exotic, like it belonged to a different time.
Her father had always said that radios, speakers, and sound systems were nothing compared to the gramophone, the rich and authentic way it rang out. He had even managed to hang onto the one her grandfather had, kept it in pristine condition. Whenever he’d play it in the house, she would be transported back in time, back to when she was a kid and life was simpler.
Jolie had no idea why she was remembering all of this now. The particular memory had been relegated to the back of her mind, left to collect cobwebs until she dusted it off and took it out into the sun. Now, her brain decided to latch onto it, today of all days.
It wasn’t an ideal time, not by a long shot. If anything, it was just plain shitty. Though she supposed that could be why her subconscious presented her with that particular memory, one she held close to her heart. It was to counteract the horror show that had become her day-to-day existence. Listening to the gramophone with her father, sitting across from him, watching him as his eyes squeezed shut and witnessing the expression of pure bliss etch
ed onto his features. The wistful smile that would inevitably follow stayed with her, all reminded her of the last time she was truly happy.
It felt so long ago now, too long ago, another life, one that was on a different timeline and belonged to another person altogether. Jolie folded in around herself, as if that would somehow make her smaller, or disappear all at once, and a small whimper escaped her lips in spite of her best effort to hold it in.
How had her life taken such a drastic turn? She was once one of the most popular girls in college, with a doting father, great friends, and the campus hunk. With her sun-kissed skin, long, golden, curly locks and emerald green eyes with flecks of gold, she was the epitome of Homecoming Queen. She’d led an enchanted life, one she was grateful for. The only blip on her radar had been the man in her life at the time, her longtime boyfriend, Kyle Walsh. Now all that was gone.
Jolie wished she could travel back in time, prayed for it so often it felt embedded in her bones. She was young and foolish back then, oblivious to the signs that were pulsing like neon lights atop his forehead, warning her of the danger that lay ahead. But she ignored it, plunged forward, and thought that she could make the most out of a bad situation.
At eighteen, she believed, like most young girls, that she could change the man she loved; fix him, and inspire him to become a better human being. Steadfastly, she held onto that notion, even from a very young age, that she should never turn her back on someone who needed her, and Kyle had fit the profile. He’d been damaged when they first met and it seemed so endearing to her, his cry for help tugged on her heartstrings. Convinced her that she could be the one to save him, to be his knight in shining armor.
Oh, how wrong she’d been.
She’d been enamored with him; his perfect smile, those dark brown eyes that held her gaze steadily, and his quiet demeanor. Looking back now, she realized that he had stayed quiet to mask what lay beneath the surface, a calm veneer housing the monster within. She remembered it so clearly now, the first time she saw a burst of his anger, like a firecracker, sudden and crackling. She’d been startled but hadn’t done anything because it was gone as quickly as it came. He had convinced her he was just having a bad day. It was years before she witnessed something similar, his anger had been reigned in.
From then on, she noticed the warning signs, the ones that indicated that he was about to erupt; the way his mouth would press into a thin line, the slight tick in his jaw. And the way his eyes blackened, turning into a fathomless pit, an abyss from which there was no return. Still, he kept his anger in check, and she was able to push it to the back of her mind, especially when he bonded with her father, the only man to ever do so.
Back then, Kyle was over at her house most days, the sound of his voice intermingling with her fathers as they bellowed for the same team. It had warmed her to see her father take to him so well and she was convinced that, if Kyle had a more stable home life when he was younger, he wouldn’t feel so angry about trivial things all the time.
By the time she realized Kyle’s true nature, it was too late. Her father was on his deathbed, dying a slow and painful death, cancer eating away at him. His last request was for her to marry Kyle. She’d hesitated, thinking of another man at that moment, one she’d developed unexpected feelings for, in spite of her best attempts not to.
Hendrix’s face popped in her mind’s eye but she’d pushed it away, guilt coursing through her veins. She hadn’t done anything, but just the fact that she was in love with him was enough. She had no idea when she’d stopped loving Kyle but she did accept it as a fact, even though she hadn’t acted on it.
Still, she didn’t have the heart to say no, not when her father had pleaded her to do it. So, against her better judgment, and in spite of the way her heart contracted painfully in her chest at the thought of being separated from Hendrix, she’d said yes.
Now, here she was, three years later, still paying for the lapse in judgement, for not having had the courage to stand up to her father and say no. Jolie’s life had gone downhill from there.
Suddenly, the world around her shifted back into focus, and she winced in pain as Kyle landed another blow to her gut, this one even more painful than the last, more merciless. One eye peaked open, staring at his face, his once handsome features twisted into something feral and inhuman, as his eyes blazed with anger. His hands were curled into fists at his side and he reeked of alcohol.
Jolie’s eyes squeezed shut, hoping that if she couldn’t see what was happening, then somehow she wouldn’t feel it, that she’d just wither away and disappear. She shifted slightly, hoping to keep the blows away from her liver so that he wouldn’t damage it again.
The last time he’d hit her that hard, she’d had to rush to the ER and the doctor had warned her about the extensive damage done to her liver. She’d stumbled over an excuse, her face aflame with shame and embarrassment, but eventually, she’d managed to convince the doctor that the reason behind the bruises was that she took MMA classes.
As far as excuses went, it wasn’t the most original, and it definitely didn’t hold up under scrutiny, especially under the doctor’s penetrating stare. The doctor had pursed her lips, shook her head, and warned her to take it easy, otherwise they’d have to take part of her liver out. Jolie saw it in the doctor’s eyes, the disbelief and worry, but without any actual proof, she wasn’t going to step in and help Jolie. It wasn’t her place.
A gasp of surprise escaped her lips as she felt Kyle’s leg draw back and slam into her gut again, the wind in her body leaving in one fell swoop. Jolie felt as if she’d been curled up in the fetal position for days, each second agonizingly long. She wasn’t even sure how much time had passed since he’d started hitting her. It could’ve been hours or mere minutes.
The pain was excruciating. Every breath of air felt like fire searing her throat and her limbs felt useless, laden and heavy as if they were weighed down by cement. She felt lightheaded and discombobulated as if she were floating on thin air, like a bob.
She felt his hot, putrid breath dance across her face, barely keeping herself from shrinking back in fear. Every nerve in her body tensed up, her fight or flight instincts kicking in.
“Open your fucking eyes and look at me,” Kyle hissed, spittle flying out of his mouth.
Obediently, her eyes flew open and her heart careened inside her chest, thudding painfully and reminding her that, in spite of the pain, she was still alive.
“How many times have I told you to wash the dishes as soon as we’re done with dinner?” Kyle asked, threading his fingers through her hair and yanking hard.
Tears sprang to her eyes and her mouth moved, but no words came out. She swallowed heavily. “Plenty of times.”
“And yet, I go and wash my hands after dinner and the dishes are still there when I come back,” Kyle pointed out, his grip tightening, sending prickles of pain shooting up her skull.
God, please make it stop, she pleaded.
She should’ve walked away the very first time Kyle hit her. She’d even packed up her stuff, convinced that there was nothing he could say or do to make it up to her. The angry, red welt on her face throbbed, reminding her of the consequences and how she’d been ready to leave. She was halfway out the door when he got down on his hands and knees, tears streaming down his face, his chest heaving with sobs, and his voice mangled and broken.
That was the beginning of the end. The second she walked back into that house, she’d all but sealed her fate and made a deal with the devil. After that, she was too afraid to leave, convinced that he’d follow through on his threats and hunt her down if she ever even entertained the idea. So strong was his hold on her that she believed it.
The part of her that remained and told her she could get help was eventually silenced, buried under a mountain of doubt and insecurity.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, feebly.
Kyle snorted in disgust. “Sorry isn’t enough. I work hard all day to provide a good life for us,
so the least you can do is clean the damn house. It isn’t that hard. Jesus, even a child could do your job, and you can’t even manage that.”
Her throat burned with anger and resentment, the weight of every hateful thing she’d ever thought forming a lump in her chest, threatening to pour forth. But she held it back. Despite what he said, she wasn’t stupid. She knew what she had to do in order to survive and, one day, she would gather the courage to get up and walk out that door, never once glancing back.
For now, she needed to keep her head down and bide her time. Yes, she knew what people would say, how they’d judge her over the fact that she’d fallen for it like so many others before her.
Jolie gulped, “I’m sorry, Kyle.”
Kyle reeled back, disgust marring his features. “Don’t beg. It’s an unattractive trait in a female, unless it’s in the bedroom. But since I’m not fucking you right now, it isn’t desirable.”
Jolie blinked and averted her gaze, trying to cast her mind back to a happy place, anything to get her out of the desolate hell hole she was living in.
Kyle yanked her hair back, forcing her to look up. “Did I say we were finished? You stupid, dumb bitch. The next time I tell you to get up and wash the dishes right away, I don’t want to hear any excuses. Do you understand me?”
Jolie let out an inaudible response, her eyes fixed on his, adopting a meek expression so he wouldn’t see the vehemence burning in their depths.
“What was that?” Kyle asked, leaning in closer, his eyes flashing dangerously.
Attraction: A MFM Menage Romance Page 9
