Seducing Their Nun [Unlikely Bedfellows 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Jenna Stewart

  His hands roved everywhere. She reciprocated by kissing his neck, his collarbone, and flicking her tongue against his flat nipple. “Straddle me,” he whispered. “Rub your pussy against my cock.”

  In the times she had been with Jordan, he had taken the command, perhaps sensing her reluctance to be the primary player. Jordan was emotionally stronger than she. But Mark and she were equals. She eagerly followed his instruction and added her own twists, pressing her pussy down on his cock so that the head slid into her channel. Then she pulled her hips up and let him out.

  “Careful,” he muttered. “Let me put on a rubber.” He plucked a square envelope from the drawer and ripped it open.

  “Let me,” she said, surprising herself.

  She took the rubbery disk from him and slid down over his legs. Everything in her urged her to hurry. Liquid leaked from her pussy and rolled down her thigh. But as she examined Mark’s cock, another urge overcame her.

  Leaning down, she licked the head. Mark hissed in a breath. She fit her lips on the soft bulb and probed the slit on the top with her tongue. When she slipped the head into her mouth and teased it with her tongue, Mark ran his fingers through her hair and held her head.

  Then he pulled out, breathing heavily. “Honey, you don’t want to do that. You don’t know enough quite yet.”

  “Did I hurt you?”

  He burst into laughter, though he didn’t sound amused. “God, no. But I want to come inside you, okay?”

  So she hadn’t done anything wrong. He liked it. Covering her hands, he helped her apply the sheath. Then he lifted her over his cock and thrust up.

  This was no gentle entry, but Catherine didn’t care. She was ready and wet. There was no pain or discomfort, only the answer to a need that had built since she disclosed her childhood. He grasped her hips and held her still while he pushed up and pulled back. Catherine threw back her head and arched her back. Mark released her hips. With one hand he kneaded her breast. With the other he played with her clitoris.

  “I can see where my cock enters your pussy,” he murmured. He pressed her clitoris hard and she flew apart, crying out.

  “Come for me,” he said. “Come for me.”

  She couldn’t stop the convulsions from controlling her. On and on they went, and Mark kept on, too, rubbing her clitoris and driving into her vagina.

  Suddenly, he pulled her forward to place them chest to chest, breath to breath. She jerked her hips in concert with his, rubbing her clitoris against the root of his cock. Stretching his arms down her body, he pressed her butt to him. The pulsing of his cock set off a stronger round of spasms. Lightheaded, she clung to Mark.

  “I can’t let you go, Catherine. I love you. I need you.”

  “And I love you,” she whispered.

  How could it be that she loved both men? But she did. Jordan had first opened her eyes to her sexuality. He had given her a view of the world she hadn’t imagined. He made her soar. He made her yearn for more in every respect.

  Mark touched her soul as well as her body. She wanted them both. How would she be able to give them up when the magical time in Ballymeade ended?

  * * * *

  Dawn had broken, but daylight hadn’t invaded the cottage. The skies were overcast and rain spit onto the roof when Jordan let himself back in. He had meant to stay away through the day and maybe another night to let Catherine and Mark have time to get to know one another. But he couldn’t wait any longer to be with her himself. If she did leave at the end of the packing, their time would be ended soon. The kitchen contained the bare essentials needed for their meals, the sitting room upstairs had been finished, and Mark and Catherine had planned to go through the living room yesterday. That left very little.

  Quietly he peeked into the living room. The bed hadn’t been pulled down, but someone had lain on it. Mark’s and Catherine’s clothes lay scattered on the floor. So, it happened.

  He took a moment to process the fact that the woman he loved had also slept with his best friend. Catherine had told him with great trepidation that she absolutely did not want to become her mother, and he had placed her in as position that led to that very thing.

  No! She was not her mother, and if she harbored the thought, he would explain the difference between a woman being kept and one who was loved. Between one who was used and one who healed and accepted healing with her lovemaking.

  He stole up the stairs, knowing what he would find at the top. Shadows remained in the room, and the two slept soundly, facing each other. Jordan stripped, tossing his clothes aside. He retreated to the bathroom to retrieve a jar of gel, and then he took a condom from the drawer. Equipped, he pulled back the covers and slid into bed at Catherine’s back.

  Wasting no time, he ran his hands over her back and shoulders. She stirred, shrugging her shoulders and wriggling back against him. He slid down the bed, letting the sheet cover him, until he reached her butt. He smoothed his hand up her leg, skimming Mark’s leg, too. As expected, his friend’s dick, already half-erect with the morning, came alive at once. Jordan kissed her cheeks and rimmed her ass with his tongue. Thinking about the three of them together had brought this vision to his mind the whole day while settling his dad’s firm with the lawyer in Portland. He worried that she might not like being with both of them at once, and this was the time to find out.

  Crawling back up, he saw Mark and she were kissing. Mark’s tongue seemed halfway down her throat. He rose on his elbow and leaned over her. They broke the kiss, and she turned toward him, sleepiness still filling her eyes.

  “Jordan, you’re back.”

  That was all she could say, because he covered her mouth with his. She welcomed him by sucking on his tongue and teasing it with hers. She had become more open, more adventuresome. Mark dipped his head and suckled one of her nipples.

  “Did you miss me?” he asked when they came up for air.

  “Yes.” She smiled. “We both did. Did you miss us?”

  “I came home early, didn’t I?” He saw that Mark was retrieving a condom and putting it on. They hadn’t discussed this but seemed to operate as a trained team. “We both want you, Catherine, and there’s a way we can both have you at once. Are you willing to try it? It will be different for you but not bad in any way. Do you trust us?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t hesitate a moment.

  “I love you.” He kissed her again and then turned her to Mark. He situated her leg over his hip and turned her a bit to provide easier access for Jordan.

  His cock strained and ached for release. He hurried with the rubber and spread it liberally with the gel. He covered his middle finger, too, and gently probed her ass. She froze. “Relax, sweetheart.”

  Mark kissed her, hopefully taking her mind off what he was doing to her ass. He eased his finger in and out, a little farther each time, stretching her, preparing her. God, she was tight. Like her pussy, though with all the times they had used her lately, she would be used to a cock now.

  Jordan knew the moment Mark thrust into her. She moaned and moved her hips. The woman was born for loving. Now if only they could convince her of that.

  He applied some gel to her hole and eased the head of his cock in. Instinctively she clenched her sphincter. Jordan kissed her shoulders and rubbed his hand down her back to the thigh that stretched across Mark’s hip. With each push from her front, she accepted Jordan a bit more. She and Mark still kissed, though Jordan sensed their change in breathing. Mark caressed her breast. Jordan squeezed her butt cheek. Through a small barrier of skin, he felt Mark’s dick moving in and out as he did the same. With the tightness of her ass, the smooth skin of her butt abrading his scrotum with each thrust, and the feel of Mark’s cock hitting the most sensitive part of his cock deep inside Catherine, he wanted to come in the worst way. But he wanted this to be good for her. It had to be good for her.

  She sucked in a harsh breath and her convulsions started, severe at first, gripping, and squeezing, and then tapering to a steady ripp
le along the length of his cock. Seconds went by, and she started again, and then a third time.

  Jordan couldn’t last any longer. He came with quick pulses far inside her ass, at the same time Mark came in her pussy. Would they ever do this without the rubbers? Would he fill her with his cum, mixing it with her cream, truly making them one? Again, he had a flash picture of Catherine, big with his child—or Mark’s child. He wanted to see how their future would unfold. Assuming they had a future.

  Slowly, he withdrew from her. Mark did also, and she rolled onto her back between them.

  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  She shook her head. “No. It was different, exciting. I couldn’t breathe between you, and then I realized it was the ultimate fulfillment. I was overcome.” Lightning flared with the storm. She looked at the window and laughed. “I thought the flashes of light behind my eyelids were due to the three of us and what we were doing.”

  “It was,” Mark said. “We made a storm right here in this bed.”

  “I want to do it again,” she whispered. “I want to do everything with you two, anything. I want a thousand memories stored up.” Tears streamed down her face, like the drops of water rolling down the windowpane.

  “Catherine,” Jordan said softly. “You have to choose. You can’t be a nun and spend your nights wishing you were with us.”

  “I know,” she said. “I know.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  She had to choose. But dear Lord, how? Catherine’s dreams plagued her. In one she woke each morning to Jordan and Mark but knew in her heart she faced damnation. In another, she spent years in her cell on her knees praying, but what she prayed for was to held by Jordan and Mark. How could she please both God and her own desires?

  When she finally did come awake, both men were up and out. Rain flew against the windowpanes in torrents, and occasional lightning brightened the sky. The smell of coffee came from downstairs, but she wasn’t ready yet to rise. She wanted to think.

  All along, she’d planned to return to St. Agnes. The contemplative life suited her, and she had given her vow to God and the order that for all her days she would be one with them. Having talked with Mark and Jordan, though, had she been called to a true vocation, or had she accepted the easiest course? If she withdrew from the convent, surely God wouldn’t consign her to hell for choosing love over a life she wasn’t meant to live.

  But is it love you feel or lust? Satan was innovative. He could make her believe she was in love—and that the men loved her—when in fact nothing lasting or true existed among them. How would she define love?

  She thought about them all the time. But you’re unworldly. Any man who was nice to you would invade your thoughts.

  She wanted to do things for them. Serving has been ingrained in you.

  She loved the feel of their bodies next to hers. Sex. The greatest draw to sin ever.

  She wanted their happiness above her own. Her inner voice stayed silent.

  “Nothing to say to that?” Do they feel the same about you?

  They had given her no reason to think otherwise. Neither had prevaricated in any way. Both seemed to worry that she make her own decision without interference. Yet they showed in every way that they cared about her. Truth and trustworthiness were their hallmarks.

  Feeling better, she threw off the covers and padded into the bathroom. After showering and brushing her teeth, she hurried downstairs.

  “How do you feel?” Mark asked, handing her a cup of black coffee. Jordan stood when she entered. They had pushed the sofa bed into place and cleaned up the clothes she and Mark had left strewn over the floor.

  “I feel great. How about you?”

  “Never better.” He bent his head for a quick touch of their lips. She gave him another to match.

  “Jordan,” she said, giving him a soft kiss, “I’m so glad you’re back early.”

  “Me, too.” He smiled, and her heart flew.

  This felt so right, being here with them, taking their love on faith yet feeling the solidness of it deep inside.

  “We won’t be going out,” Jordan said, glancing out the window. “I think the most work we have left here is in your mother’s study. But we don’t want to venture in there until you’re ready for us.”

  “I appreciate that. I think…” Unconsciously, she bit her bottom lip. “I think I’m ready.”

  “After coffee and something to eat will be soon enough.” Mark frowned. Did he sense the door she would be opening to them?

  Her mother’s secrets had to be disposed of in a way that didn’t diminish her dignity any more than she’d already suffered. At her arrival, Catherine couldn’t fathom how her mother had carved out a life away from hers or how she could have lived as she did. Now she had a glimmer of understanding of how and why Emma Jacobsen chose the life she had. If she did return to St. Agnes, she couldn’t leave the journals or her mother’s papers to be read by just anyone.

  “There is some very sensitive information in my mother’s journal, Jordan. You’re my attorney. If I leave them with you, what will be done with them?”

  “Whatever you choose. I can see that they’re burned, if you like. Or I can hold them in a safety deposit box until you decide.” He leaned over to rest his elbows on his knees. “I’ll do whatever you want, but as your friend, as someone who loves you. I’ll be out of the law business in a week or less.”

  “You’ll still be qualified by the bar, won’t you?” Mark asked.

  “I just won’t renew my license when it comes up. So, yeah, technically for a while I’ll still be a lawyer. Just be assured that I’ll do everything in my power to make sure your wishes are carried out, Catherine.”

  “I would love to read all of them now, now that I feel some of what she did. I was so afraid I would become the sinner I thought she was, and now I see she was simply in love.” She looked at Mark and then Jordan, the only one among them who had known her mother in any way. “Will I meet her fate, do you think?”

  “No!” He scooted to the edge of the chair and reached for her hand. “You have two men who love you. Two strong men who would die rather than see you hurt. Unlike Tipton and that Leo, whoever he is, we aren’t already married. In fact, we talked this morning, and either of us would marry you right now, today if you were free to do so. We don’t want to trap you in a situation you find impossible to be happy in. You are not your mother, and Mark and I aren’t the same kind of men as her lovers. You can trust us always to tell you the truth and allow you options and control over your fate.”

  Mark, beside her on the sofa, turned to her and squeezed her shoulder. “None of us is in a position to understand why your mother did what she did. And none of us is perfect, so it’s not up to us to judge. We love you, Catherine. Whatever is in the past is something we all have to deal with, but when it comes down to it, it’s over. We want to share a future with you, if that’s what you want, too.

  She thought of the years in the convent and the years before that, worrying that if the nuns couldn’t love her and her own mother didn’t love her enough even to write, how she would ever make it in the world. And then she considered how the sun had shone brighter, how she’d smiled and laughed and felt truly blessed since knowing Jordan and Mark. She pictured her habit hanging in the closet, the vestments by which she had defined herself for most of her life, and the rosary, which until she knew what the touch of a hand could mean had always been her source of calming and comfort.

  “It is,” she said simply.

  * * * *

  Jordan couldn’t believe his ears. She wanted to share their lives and fortunes?

  She half laughed. “I almost expect lightning to strike.”

  “God, Catherine,” Mark said, pulling her into his arms and spilling some of her coffee in the effort. “I can’t believe it! You’ve made us the happiest men on Earth.”

  “Sweetheart,” Jordan said, when Mark finally let go of her and she set her cup on the side table. “This
is wonderful.” His heart nearly burst with emotion he couldn’t begin to express. If his reaction sounded a bit underwhelming, he could tell from her smile that she understood. Her acceptance changed everything. He wanted her with them, but worried a little too, that she didn’t fully understand what her decision meant—for them or for herself.

  “So.” She twisted her hands in her lap. “Now that I’ve said what was in my heart, I guess I’m nervous. What is our future? I’m guessing Ballymeade isn’t ready for another woman who loves two men.”

  Jordan shook his head. “I agree with that. In fact, there aren’t many places that would accept a woman living with two men.” He let the difference between what he said and what she’d said sink in. “We may be heading toward one of the few places in the world that would.”

  “Which is…?”

  “France,” Mark said.

  “France? As in Europe?” Mark nodded. Jordan smiled his affirmation. Catherine covered her smile with her hands. “When I arrived, I wondered if maybe Mother Superior would consent to my traveling to California to help opening the new convent.”

  Jordan didn’t want her to picture a little house with roses quite yet. “A lot has to be worked out before we know if we’re going to live there, but we’ll be setting sail by the end of October for business meetings in Paris.”

  “And you want me to go with you?”

  “We absolutely want you with us. But it depends on what you have to do to sever your ties with the convent.” Mark looked from her to Jordan. “What will that take?”

  “I have no idea,” Jordan admitted.

  “I have to request a separation from the bishop. Mother Superior has to agree to pass on my petition.”

  Mark’s brows wrinkled in a worried expression. “What if she doesn’t agree?”

  Catherine shrugged. “I don’t know. Before someone leaves, they never talk about it. Just one day they’re kneeling beside you in chapel and the next day we’re told they have departed and that we’re not to mention them again. The process is not discussed.”