Sharing His Bride

by Faye Avalon

  Muffled by the mattress, her moans rumbled deep in her chest.

  Declan’s hand landed sharp on her ass again, and she yelped as sensation ripped through her. He was right, the ice made her flesh more sensitive.

  Again, both men took turns, each spanking her until she was certain her cheeks must be crimson. Then she was tossed onto her back. James settled behind her, moving her up until she lay between his legs, her head on his lap, while Declan slid his hands beneath her knees and raised them up to open her wide.

  Mollie looked down to where his erection bobbed. She wanted him so much. Wanted him to fill her, possess her, love her.

  He positioned himself at her entrance, his chest expanding with each breath he sucked in. “Can’t wait,” he grated through gritted teeth. “You’ve got me so fucking hot, Mol.”

  After all the teasing and torturing, Mollie felt the same. He shoved himself inside her and she clenched her muscles around his engorged shaft, holding him tight.

  “Shit.” He squeezed his eyes closed and pushed deeper, exerting amazing pressure against her feminine walls. The weight of his hands pushed her knees down, opening her up even further to his possession.

  Mollie could only hold on as he claimed her with short thrusts while deeply seated inside her. It stole her breath away. With each thrust she was pushed further along the mattress and if it wasn’t for James’s firm hold on her arms she was certain they would have fallen off the bed.

  With nowhere to go, Mollie savored the full force of Declan’s demanding thrusts, and soon she was hurtling into a stratum of light, color and sensation. She came, long and hard, and felt Declan empty himself into the condom. It was wonderful when they came in unison, but even more so now.

  Declan withdrew slowly, smiled and touched his lips gently to Mollie’s.

  He glanced at James. “I’ll be a minute. Top up our drinks.”

  Still sheathed, James nodded and picked up the champagne bottle from the floor beside the bed. He offered Mollie her refilled glass.

  She shifted to sitting and accepted the flute. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure. As long as it’s not the kind that would get me into trouble with your man. He’s the possessive kind.”

  Mollie laughed, delighted when James gave a mock shudder. “Something tells me you could handle just about anything. Possessive fiancés included.”

  He toasted her with his glass, his eyes sparkling, but beneath the humor Mollie sensed a darkness, an aura of danger that seemed to cloak him.

  “Why do you do this, James? What made you become...”

  “A male escort?” He shrugged. “There are worse ways to make a living.”

  “Agreed. But what was it that—”

  “James is a professional,” Declan said from the doorway.

  “I know,” Mollie said. “I’m just intrigued.”

  “You know something?” Declan took her glass away. “You talk too much. And we need more action.”

  “More? You’ve just...”

  “I’ll go back to watching. At least until things liven up again down below.”

  Mollie glanced down, saw his cock was already halfway to rejoining the party.

  James put down his own glass, and moved onto the bed. “If your man here would like to position you to his satisfaction, I’ll be happy to pleasure you until he’s ready for you again.”

  Declan said nothing, but hoisted Mollie over his lap, her back to his chest. Her legs were on the outside of his, knees drawn up. She felt the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the jerk of his cock beneath her ass.

  James moved between their legs, his hands on her inner thighs to open her up. He lowered his head, his tongue laving along her labia, teasing little licks and flourishes that sent fresh desire coursing through her.

  He used his thumbs to spread her open, pressing the flat of his tongue to her clit. Mollie gave a low squeal and Declan kissed her neck, while James circled his tongue around her sensitive flesh in slow and steady strokes. Sensation shot from the point where his tongue played sensuous games right up to her breasts. Her nipples hardened and peaked, and Declan cupped her breasts and stroked over the sensitive buds.

  She didn’t think she could stand much more, she was so wet and throbbing. But James sucked her hard, working her until her breaths came in dizzying gasps. She arched up, pressing her breasts into Declan’s hands while James continued his ruthless assault.

  She was hurtling toward orgasm when Declan pushed his foot against James’s shoulder. The man withdrew, garnering a whimper of protest from Mollie, and looked at Declan.

  Mollie couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. All she could do was lie there, waiting. She didn’t know what would happen next, but prayed whatever it was would give her relief from the intense pressure building in her pelvis.

  Declan widened his legs further, the movement opening Mollie even more. James looked at Declan, then reached down to the condom still covering his erection and smoothed it into place.

  He leaned forward, hands either side of her, and nudged the tip of his cock to Mollie’s heat. He gave another glance at Declan, then pushed slowly inside her. All Mollie seemed capable of was snatching tiny gasping breaths as James filled her. She closed her eyes, welcoming the possessive tightening of Declan’s arms around her, anchoring her, holding her steady.

  James moved, his strokes slow and easy, although when she opened her eyes she saw that his were tightly closed. His chest expanded with each deep breath, his pectorals bunching and tightening with the effort of holding his arms steady while he thrust into her.

  “Tell me how it feels, angel.”

  “Good,” she managed in response to Declan’s whispered question. “Really...good.”

  She turned her head against his chest, seeking his kiss. He obliged, cupping his hands around her breasts and squeezing gently in time to James’s thrusts.

  It was the final push to her release and she came. Again.

  “Fuck,” Declan said against her ear. “You’re freaking amazing, Mol.” With which he came too, his release hot against her back, his groan harsh and almost feral.

  While James went to the bathroom, Mollie turned in Declan’s arms.

  “You feeling all right?” he asked, stroking her shoulder. “Not too sore?”

  “I’m fine.” She snuggled against him. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” His fingers stroked comfortingly down her arm. “Especially now. Like this.”

  Mollie nestled deeper still. “Me too.”

  * * *

  Later, content in Declan’s arms, Mollie watched James slip into his clothes. He took a card from his jacket pocket.

  “It’s been a pleasure,” he said popping the card on the nightstand. “Give me a call if you ever want my services again. Anniversaries, celebrations.”

  Mollie’s first threesome had been an experience, one she would certainly never forget. But she didn’t want to repeat it anytime soon. Did Declan have other ideas?

  “Thanks,” he said. “But we’ll manage on our own from now on in.”

  Pleased, Mollie snuggled closer.

  Seeing as James had given her some pretty spectacular orgasms, she smiled up at him. “Thank you, James.”

  “My pleasure, beautiful.” He grinned, closed the door and left.

  Mollie ran her hand across Declan’s tight abs. “Did you mean that? That we’ll manage on our own from now on?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Reaching out, Mollie took the card James had left and knelt between Declan’s legs. “In that case.” With a mischievous smile, she ripped the card into pieces. “We won’t be needing this.”

  She tossed the fragments into the air, and they scattered over the bed. “I love you, Declan Gerraghty. I want to spend our lives doing anything and everything. Together.”

  “No regrets?”

  “I never had any regrets, at least not about us. I was just worried you’d want more excitement,
that you’d eventually wish I’d had more experience.”

  “Angel, this is more than enough experience for me. There’s no way I’m ever sharing you again. Not sure my nerves would take it. From now on it’s just the two of us.”

  “Just the two of us.” She gave him a saucy grin. “But I really like experimenting. Can we do more of that?”

  “Are you kidding?” Declan placed his hands on her hips and drew her over him. “We could start right now. How do you feel about trying out some sex toys? It just so happens there are a few in that box over there.” He grinned. “I did some online shopping.”

  Mollie leaned down for a slow and sultry kiss. “I love a man who shops.”

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from PIERCED INK by Dani René.

  Chapter One

  Jagger

  “That’s it, you’re done.”

  Straightening, I watch the little blonde shiver as I wipe the excess blood from her unmarred creamy skin and cover it with wrapping. She’s marked now. Inked for life. Only eighteen and a day and she’s already started down the path of rebelliousness. Apparently, her folks are some wealthy assholes who’ve forbidden her to get the tattoo.

  I lift the mirror allowing her to look at the artwork. “It’s so pretty,” she murmurs, stroking the ink on her hip.

  “Glad to be of service, babe.” Rising, I head over to the sink and pull the gloves off. “You’re going to want to keep it clean as it heals. I’ll get you a tub of cream that will help with the itch. Whatever you do, no scratching, it will undo all that hard work.”

  “Sure, and how long will it take to heal?”

  “That little one...probably about two weeks. Once it scabs you’ll forget it’s there. You’ll have some sensitivity on it for a few days though.” Once I’ve washed my hands, I watch her stroke the plastic.

  “How much do I owe you?” She smiles, so pretty and innocent. I wouldn’t mind her paying in more carnal ways, but I’m a professional and that would be out of bounds. Perhaps she’ll want to go for a drink with me. Who am I kidding? I haven’t been on a date in years. After the love of my life walked out, I’ve been on a downward spiral, fucking anything with tits.

  “That’s eighty, babe.” The bell above the door jingles as I tell her the price. She nods, pulling the notes from her purse, handing them to me as we make our way to the front of the store. My assistant, Ryn, glances at the new walk-in.

  “How can I help you?” she asks, but when I turn to the new customer my footsteps halt. The girl standing on the other side of the counter is older, her hair shorter, and her arms are works of art, but it’s her. There’s no mistaking the green eyes that used to pierce me with such passion and desire. Her fierce expression is the one thing that used to turn me on to no end. The woman on the other side of this counter is the one woman I never thought I’d see again. Yet, here she is. In all her beautiful fucking glory.

  Her gaze drags from my assistant to land on me. “Jag,” she murmurs. Her lips are red, not that bright fuck-me red, more like a deep crimson—the color of blood. My thoughts quickly turn to how they’d look wrapped around the base of my dick as she swallows me deep. I know she can take it. She loved taking every inch down that slender throat.

  “Pixie,” I murmur. A smile so slight, I would have missed it if I didn’t know this woman like the back of my hand.

  “It’s Ava, Jag. Don’t start shit,” she retorts and I’m tempted to fuck her right here in front of Ryn and the blonde bombshell I’d just marked.

  “Ryn, take this little lady’s money. I’ll be in the back if you need me.” I turn and make my way to my room without another word to Ava. She’s in here for a reason. I’m not about to let that reason be known to a customer or my employee. This shit between us has been going on for too fucking long. It’s time to end it.

  I head into the back, leaving the door open behind me as I start to clean the equipment I’d just used on the little blonde. The click from behind me tells me Ava’s followed. Alone with the one person who could either break me further, or mend me. Question is, which will she choose?

  My skin prickles with a hunger I’d only ever felt with her. I’d let myself feel and that was my mistake. I’m not about to allow history to repeat itself. Once she’s told me what the hell she’s doing here, I’ll send her on her way because there is no room in my life for someone like this. Like her. As much as I want there to be, I can’t let her back in.

  “What do you want, Pixie?”

  Copyright © 2017 by Dani René

  Acknowledgments

  Special thanks to my lovely editor, Stephanie Doig, for her expert advice and support, and to everyone at Carina Press who have made this, my initial Carina journey, such an enjoyable one. Thanks also to my awesome critique partners, Lavada Dee and Laurie Ryan. You ladies rock.

  About the Author

  Faye Avalon enjoys writing sexy stories about strong men and the savvy women who rock their world. Her journey toward a writing career has taken a varied and interesting path. She worked as cabin crew, detoured into property development, dabbled with public relations and education, trained and worked as a yoga teacher (which she still practices every day), before finally finding her passion: writing spicy romantic fiction.

  Faye lives with her super-ace husband and one beloved, ridiculously spoiled dog. Between writing, reading, and grabbing some quality time with her husband, Faye takes adult ballet and tap classes, cleans the house when the mood takes, and follows Formula One motor racing. She holds degrees in art history and education.

  Website: www.fayeavalon.com

  Facebook: www.Facebook.com/faye.avalon.1

  Twitter: @Faye_Avalon

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  ISBN-13: 9781488091193

  Sharing His Bride

  Copyright © 2018 by Faye Avalon

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.