Theirs to Take

by Laura Kaye

  She gave a little laugh, and he loved the sound of it. To him, sex didn’t have to be serious all the time. It could be playful and silly and even funny. “Well, I like the sound of that,” she said.

  “Good,” Jonathan said, tugging at the hem of her shirt. “Then can I take this off?”

  Hartley nodded, and soon the intensity returned between them, as they all took turns kissing and removing clothes and touching, until he and Cruz wore only their jeans and Hartley was naked excerpt for a pair of navy satin underwear and a blue-and-purple watercolor heart tattoo on her chest—both of which contrasted beautifully with the pale porcelain of her skin.

  “On the bed,” Jonathan said, giving her a boost so that she sat on the waist-high edge of the platform. He and Cruz stood in front of her, side by side, shoulders touching. And that gave Jonathan a thrill, too, sharing this with another person, someone he’d cared about his entire adult life.

  He’d always been able to find the human body sexy and appealing. Male, female—it didn’t matter to him. And he was man enough to admit that Cruz Ramos was fucking hot. His muscles. The dark intensity of his eyes. The words that came out of his mouth, especially during sex, and how that revealed the inner workings of a brilliant mind. Yeah, all of that was damn attractive.

  Jonathan had never acted on any of that, though, because Cruz had never given him any indication of wanting it. Hell, of even being open to it. But that was okay, because this was enough. Sharing a beautiful woman and knowing they were going to drive her wild. Together.

  “Lay her out for us, Cruz.”

  The other man nodded and crawled up on the bed, kissing Hartley as he laid her back and climbed half atop her. Jonathan stretched out on the opposite side of her, until the three of them lay next to each other, the hardness of the men’s bodies crowding Hartley’s soft curves. They kissed for long minutes, and Jonathan knew they were both working to allow her to relax into the experience of being with two men. When Cruz claimed her mouth again, Jonathan moved his kisses to her throat, her shoulder, the slight mound of her breast. He sucked her nipple, and Hartley’s back arched. She moaned into Cruz’s kiss.

  And then they traded. And Jonathan was the one swallowing her moans and sighs and gasps, while Cruz explored her body with his lips and tongue and hands.

  Hartley’s body trembled and writhed beneath them. “Oh, God,” she rasped, brown eyes pleading. “I need more.”

  Cruz’s gaze cut to Jonathan, and it was filled with satisfaction and resolve. Because that pleading beg was exactly what they’d been waiting for. An unspoken agreement passed between him and his friend, and then Jonathan kissed Hartley one more time. “We’ve got you.”

  He worked his mouth and hands down her body, drawing off the silky blue underwear as he moved. She was naked by the time he stood at the foot of the bed again.

  “Spread your legs.”

  She did, without hesitation, fully revealing her arousal to him. Because her wetness was visible against the soft pink skin and neatly trimmed brown hair.

  “I’m gonna enjoy you, Hartley,” he said, kissing up her legs and leaning in. “And I want you to enjoy us right back.” With that, his mouth came down on her, open and probing. His tongue licked, his lips sucked.

  Hartley cried out, and Jonathan got even harder when her cry suddenly cut off. Peering up over her softly rounded belly, undulating from the way she writhed and thrust her hips against his mouth, he found Cruz kissing her again, his hand working over her breasts and nipples.

  And that view…watching other people having sex while he was having sex…was a big part of why ménage aroused him so fundamentally. It added a dimension to the experience that he craved, and always had.

  And it fueled him on as he ate her and licked her and sucked her until her arousal coated his tongue and she moaned nonstop. Drawing back, he brought his hand to her and slid his middle finger deep.

  “Oh, yes. Oh, more,” she said.

  “Like this?” he asked, penetrating her with a second finger as he sucked her clit. He flicked it with his tongue while he fucked her with his fingers.

  The sound that spilled from her was part moan, part whine. And it meant she was losing herself to this experience—and trusting them to treat her right. Raw masculine satisfaction raced through his veins at the thought.

  “I want you guys,” she whispered, her voice a high rasp. “Please.”

  “Come on my face and my fingers first, Hartley,” Jonathan said.

  “Jesus,” she cried when he sucked at her harder.

  Her hand fell on his hand and tangled in his hair as she pushed him down harder. He growled against her, fucking loving the initiative, the confidence to tell and show them what she needed.

  “Give it to us, Hartley,” Cruz said. “Then you can have our cocks.”

  The words had barely left his friend’s mouth when Hartley was bucking and crying out, her pussy pulsing around his fingers. He sucked and fucked her through it, wanting every last drop of pleasure wrung out of her. Finally, she went limp beneath them.

  But she wasn’t passive, not in the least, because she reached out and grasped the waistband of Cruz’s jeans. “I want all of you guys, too.”

  Grinning, Cruz worked off the denim, and Jonathan did, too. Before he dropped his jeans to the floor, he retrieved a condom from his wallet. And then he rolled it on as Hartley and Cruz watched.

  Cruz stroked his own cock, thicker than Jonathan’s but a little shorter. Jonathan tried not to stare, but he liked what he saw. Cruz’s brute strength next to Hartley’s willing softness. “Slide off the bed, Hartley,” Cruz said.

  Jonathan helped her down and pulled her into his arms, glad that the size of the cat just barely allowed sufficient headroom for him to stand. He kissed her like they’d been apart, desperate and possessive. “Doing okay?” he whispered.

  “So much better than okay,” she replied. “And you…” She bit her lip, as if she reconsidered what she’d been about to say.

  “Finish that sentence,” he said, a hand tightening in her hair and forcing her head back, just a little.

  Her throat worked around a swallow. “Was just going to say that you taste good with me on your skin.”

  Fuck. Fuck. This woman was so right for him—for them.

  Suddenly, Cruz was right behind her, boxing her body in between both of theirs. And damn how Jonathan loved having both of them close. “Is that so, Hartley?”

  She nodded and peered over her shoulder, meeting the other man’s blazing gaze. “So good.” And then she looked back and forth between them…as if, as if wondering if they’d kiss and see for themselves.

  But Cruz took the moment in a different direction, closing the door it seemed like Hartley was playing with opening. “Then kiss him again,” Cruz commanded. When she did, Cruz dropped to his knees behind her, and her moans told Jonathan where Cruz’s mouth had gone.

  And then, Jesus Christ, then Jonathan felt Cruz’s hot breath against the head of his cock where it rested against Hartley’s clit. It was everything he could do to resist thrusting it forward, and maybe score himself a tongue bathing, too.

  Engaging in threesomes, it was nearly impossible to avoid touching both of your partners at some point, and Jonathan had always found those moments when he and Cruz touched each other to be erotic, even if they were unintentional. But just as he’d done now, Cruz always seemed to pull back from the edge of that line with him, so Jonathan didn’t chance pushing the man somewhere he didn’t want to go. Sometimes, Jonathan was sure he picked up on a vibe that seemed to indicate at least curiosity, if not full-on interest. But then the moment would pass—or get shut down, and Jonathan convinced himself that he’d misread his friend, or projected his own desires.

  Hartley’s fingertips dug into Jonathan’s biceps as Cruz’s explored her with his mouth. When he finally stood up, Cruz’s lips glistened. “Fucking delicious,” he said, licking her wetness off his mouth. “She’s so ready for you, Jonathan.�
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  “Are you?” Jonathan asking, wanting to hear her say it.

  “Yes,” she said. “For both of you.” The sentiment hit Jonathan in the chest and made his cock jerk with need. And he wasn’t the only one.

  Because Cruz got back on the bed and braced his hands against the mattress, his cock jutting up between them. And then he said, “Bend over the bed, Hartley. Bend over and take me into your mouth.”

  ***

  Hartley felt almost drunk on lust and need as she did what Cruz told her, her upper body finding space between his muscular thighs. The warm brown skin stretched taut over his thick cock looked delicious, and she wasted no time bathing his length with her tongue.

  The groan that spilled from his throat urged her on, made her braver, made her believe the guys could get as much out of this experience as she did. So she sucked him in deep.

  “Time for both of us to fill her,” Cruz gritted out, his hand falling on the back of her head, guiding, encouraging, but not forcing. Though she might not have minded that, either. Still, she appreciated that they were taking things slow, gentle, working her into a state that made it easy to surrender over and over again.

  And, damn, it was so much easier than she thought.

  Jonathan’s fingers stroked against her pussy, gliding through the wetness there, and then that sensation was replaced by another—his cock at her entrance. Teasing, probing, then sliding deep.

  She threw her head back on a moan.

  “Fuck yeah, tell us how good that cock is,” Cruz said, pulling her hair into a ponytail in one big fist.

  “I…it’s…oh, God…good,” she babbled, the stretching and fullness foreign after going so long without sex. And that made it all the more intense.

  “Christ, she’s tight, Cruz. Just wait ‘til you feel her,” Jonathan gritted out. And, God, if Hartley thought hearing one man in bed was sexy, hearing the raw, lust-drenched utterances of two was even better. More than once, she’d gotten off from the sound of a porn movie alone. No visual required. And this was about a million times hotter. Because this wasn’t fake. Being in the middle of it she could hear every little thing—rough exhalations, skin sliding against skin, the wetness of her mouth around Cruz at the same time that she could hear the wetness of her pussy welcoming Jonathan.

  Then Cruz did force her head down, back onto his length.

  “There it fucking is,” Cruz said, his tone almost like he was in pain. “Both of us inside you, Hartley. It’s so damn good.”

  But Hartley barely had time to process the eroticism of his words before both men started moving. Jonathan’s hips swinging against her ass, slowly at first, and then a little faster. And Cruz using the leverage of his arms against the bed to raise and lower his hips, fucking her mouth even as she sucked and moved her mouth over him.

  It was, without question, the most erotic moment of her life, because it entirely turned her into sensation. No thoughts. No rights or wrongs. No reality beyond the one in which she found herself impaled by cock by two men who seemed as blown away by the experience as she was.

  All Hartley could do was moan and suck and hold onto Cruz’s hip as she braced herself against the impacts of Jonathan’s thrusts.

  And then Jonathan’s hand came down against her ass. Hartley’s mouth came off of Cruz’s cock on a shout. “Again,” she cried. “Please.” There had always been something about being spanked—the sound of it and the pain of it and the slightly shameful heat of it—that drove her wild, and having it done to her in this moment shoved her toward another orgasm. Shoved her hard.

  “Like that, do you?” Jonathan asked. “Tell me you like my hand against your ass while we fuck you.”

  “God, yes,” she said. “Oh, please, yes.”

  When Cruz guided her mouth back to his length, Jonathan spanked her again. And again. And again. The orgasm was like a detonation, ferocious and total. She screamed around Cruz’s cock, his hands holding her head down and forcing her to ride it out with both cocks buried inside her.

  Cruz shouted out his own release. “Fuck, Hartley, take it baby.” His cock grew in her mouth, and then his cum spilled against her tongue again and again until it was all she could do to drink it down.

  “Jesus,” Jonathan rasped. “You two are so hot. I can’t—Fuck. Coming.” One, two, three more strokes, and he buried himself to the hilt on a groan, his hands tight on her hips.

  When Jonathan withdrew, Hartley went limp in Cruz’s lap. She peered up at him, and found him looking down, an open expression on his handsome face that spoke of affection and satisfaction. Exactly what she felt, too.

  And then Jonathan joined them, his chest pressed against Cruz’s leg, his forehead close to Hartley’s. “You took us so good, Hartley,” he whispered, his hand on her hip.

  “You took us perfectly,” Cruz agreed.

  “I loved it,” she whispered.

  “Good,” Jonathan said. “Because tonight is just the beginning.”

  Chapter Eight

  Those words rang in Cruz’s ears, and it was as if his mind couldn’t decide how to react to them. All at once, he felt satisfaction at what the three of them had just shared, because it’d been fantastic sex with two people he cared about. But fear also flooded through him, because Hartley was special. Her playfulness and sensuality and adventurous nature were going to steal Jonathan’s heart. Whether his friend realized that yet or not, Cruz would’ve put money on it.

  And where would that leave him?

  The odd man out? An occasional fuck buddy as the two of them dated, then married and moved in together? Obviously, he was putting the cart about fifty-two miles in front of the horse, but that didn’t keep his brain from doing it. Because losing Jonathan Allen was pretty much the worse thing Cruz could imagine happening.

  But he couldn’t claim him, either. Not the way he wanted to. Not when it would probably mean giving up his family. Fuck.

  Before long, he realized that Hartley and Jonathan had fallen asleep against his lap. He pulled the pillows behind his head and shoved the seriously unhelpful thoughts away and let himself enjoy being at the center of their little threesome. With one hand, he played with a silky strand of Hartley’s long brown hair, loving the softness of it, and the way the loose curls wrapped around his fingers. He let himself look at Jonathan, whose dark blond hair fanned against Cruz’s ribs.

  Nearly holding his breath, Cruz stroked his fingers over the blond. And a little more yet. Until Cruz’s fingertips touched Jonathan’s scalp as he threaded his fingers through the man’s surprisingly soft hair. His stomach threatened to go on a free fall from taking this little liberty with the man who’d years ago stolen his heart. But he hadn’t acted on it then either. Because before Cruz had worried about his family disapproving, he’d worried about what their brothers in arms would think.

  Suddenly, Jonathan shifted, his eyes eking open as he peered up at Cruz. Cruz’s heart nearly stopped. And then it did stop, because Jonathan smiled, pressed a kiss to the skin above his ribs, and then closed his eyes again.

  And, Jesus, it was a good goddamn thing that the way Hartley was laying on him hid his dick, because Cruz was suddenly rock-fucking-hard all over again.

  From a single kiss.

  From a kiss from Jonathan.

  Why did Jonathan kiss him? What the hell did it mean? Not once in all the time since their first threesome together more than a decade ago had Jonathan Allen ever kissed him.

  Maybe the guy hadn’t really been awake? Yeah, that totally could’ve been it.

  Not that his cock was convinced, apparently. Because that fucker could’ve flown a flag in twenty-knot winds. Jesus.

  And even if Jonathan’s kiss had caused the erection, it was the view of both of these beautiful people sprawled all over him that kept him aroused. His love for Jonathan aside, had Cruz met Hartley on his own, he would’ve been interested for all the same reasons that Jonathan was. And even though his family could be a pain in the ass, the fact that
she had none unleashed a protectiveness in Cruz’s chest where Hartley was concerned. A protectiveness that made him want to hold her and take care of her and make sure she was never alone again.

  So what if, in the end, they got together and he did become their fuck buddy? At least he would still be in both of their lives. At least he would still have some part of them.

  Letting his head relax against the soft cushion of the pillows, Cruz closed his eyes and released a deep breath.

  Some part would be better than no part at all, right?.

  Yeah. Maybe he could live with that. Maybe he could see his way through to that being enough. Maybe.

  ***

  Hartley woke up to the image of Jonathan’s handsome face mere inches from her own. She smiled, because in the peace of sleep, he appeared younger, and she could almost imagine him at eighteen, tanned with sun-streaked hair, racing into the waves, a board under his arm.

  But she didn’t want the boy he’d been. She wanted the man he was now. She peered up over Cruz’s ridged stomach at his ruggedly handsome face and the tribal black ink running down his upper arms. Yeah, she wanted the men that both of them were. Sailors, veterans, builders, friends. Men so confident in their sexuality that they could share a woman with another man.

  At least, she wanted to explore this thing between them. It wasn’t just that the sex had been amazing—which it had—it was that they’d made her feel so damn special. More than that, they’d made her feel a part of something bigger than herself. For the first time in so long.

  And that feeling combined with being surrounded by all this sexy, hard flesh had arousal stirring in her blood again. It was like that dream she’d had, only better. Because this was real.

  She shifted, and Jonathan’s eyes blinked open. One side of his mouth lifted in a little smile. “Hey,” he whispered.

  “Hey,” she whispered back. Mentally, she debated, and then she decided to follow Scarlett’s advice once more. Just go for it. “Tell me…tell me to do something.”