A Perfect Storm

by Dane, Cameron

  “Let me see you both get off on it.” As Magnus adjusted the dildo to fit the tip to Emma’s pussy first and then Jade on the other end, his voice held a strained quality. “Please.”

  Both women moaned and quickly took hold of the twelve inches of silicone. Holding it steady, they rocked their bodies and worked inch after inch of the black toy inside them. Once their pussies swallowed better than half of each side of the double dildo, Emma and Jade each braced themselves on the table and began pumping their hips in unison, their motions allowing them to fuck in tandem on the toy. The slow undulations flowing through Jade and Emma quickly kicked up in tempo and turned more aggressive. As the women worked themselves off on the two-sided toy, their movement stabbed the black length deeper and deeper into their entrances until it hit a point where, between the two of them, they swallowed the dildo whole. Dirty language filled their mating, mingling lust and raw sexuality with frank words of forever love.

  The emotion between the women clutched at Sophie’s heart, but the rest of her body throbbed as she imagined what that length must feel like inside Jade and Emma. She couldn’t help her thoughts slipping to Lucien and how she would respond if he were to fill her pussy to the root or speak even half of those lustful and loving words to her. Sophie saw herself thrusting onto Lucien’s hard, long cock with just as much force as Emma and Jade did to that toy, and she heard herself confessing to raw emotions she could not possibly yet feel.

  Sophie murmured a soft, “No.” She denied aloud her growing attachment to a man she did not know very well, as if doing so would take away what the subconscious parts of her mind and her body already seemed to believe were true.

  Lucien let go of Sophie’s arms and immediately covered her from behind, uttering a rough, “Yes” against the back of her neck. He rubbed his hand across her bare ass then dipped between her thighs and—Oh God, yes—grazed a long finger along her slit. “You’re so fucking hot right now you don’t know what to do.” Lucien took his touch away, and she keened for him to put it back. “You want to come more than anyone else in this room.” He grinned; she could feel it against her skin.

  Even though Emma and Jade fucked themselves with the double dildo in a frenzy, and Magnus stood at the head of the table looking dark and angry while he jerked himself off with fast, full drags on his cock, Sophie still whispered, “I know I do.” She’d never been so completely aroused, so thoroughly, for such a long period of time without making herself come. Lucien had released her wrists, but she sensed he would grab them again if she attempted to pleasure herself. More than that, she ached for him to do it. With everything inside her humming with more volatile energy than a live, exposed wire, Sophie begged, “Please, help me come.”

  Without a word, Lucien bit Sophie’s nape, shoved his hand between her thighs from the front, and sank two long digits deep into her cunt. She shouted as orgasm immediately rocked through her and jumpstarted fist-tight contractions within her channel. Her pussy clutched Lucien’s drilling fingers as if it wanted to make them a permanent part of her body. She shook and shook and shook. Lucien continued to pump his double-digit invasion inside her with every shaking wave and sent shivers through her supersensitized, slick walls.

  As the final contractions gripped her, Sophie started to slump into the table, but Lucien, with his fingers still tucked inside her, pulled her upright and supported her against his chest. “You’ll give me another one, Miss Emerson.” His fingers, coated in her juices, slid easily from her tunnel to swirl over her clit. She shivered, and he added, “I feel it still in you.”

  This time, Lucien did not take his touch away. He ordered her to continue watching the others play while he transitioned to touching her with a light, steady glide along her crease. His touch kept her shivering, on the edge of tipping into the abyss again, and she swore she held herself upright only through Lucien’s hand between her legs.

  Her breathing shallow, Sophie found herself increasing the churn of her hips to steal Lucien’s fingers in the same way Jade and Emma did to the long dildo. The women’s moans and groans encompassed the study, and their cunts ate up the toy over and over again with piston-fast speed. They held on to each other with one hand and shoved into and away from each other with frenzied teamwork in a beautiful, erotic display. Only inches away from them, Magnus jerked himself off with what looked like extremely rough pulls on his straining dick, and Sophie half wondered if he would injure himself in his efforts to come.

  Right then Jade fell onto the table and bowed her back off the surface in an arcing, stunning display. “Emma, Emma, baby…” She shoved one hand between hers and Emma’s legs, grabbed hold of the dildo, and shoved it back and forth between their bodies with vigorous thrusts. “I’m coming. I’m coming.” She released a high-pitched noise that made it sound as if she was in agony. “Come with me.”

  Emma squeezed her breast, gave one good twist and tug on her brown-colored nipple, and distended the tip ridiculously far from her body. Both women screamed. Their bodies began shuddering on the table as if they shared the same orgasm, and they continued to clutch each other’s hand as if they needed the lifeline to get through their release.

  Watching these two women in such an honest, raw display, Sophie moaned, and her channel squeezed deep inside, all the way up to her belly.

  Lucien dipped his fingers back into her pussy. “That’s it.” He stroked her wet cunt in the way she thought he might pet a kitten and reawakened those nerve endings that had not yet cooled down from her first orgasm. “Don’t fight your response to their pleasure. Let yourself sink completely into everything your body feels.” He withdrew his digits and teased his way up to her needy nubbin of rioting nerve endings. As he plied her clit with just the perfect amount of pressure, he said, “When you let go again, I will give Magnus permission to come.” With that, Lucien used his other hand to push into her from behind. He twisted two of his long, elegant fingers within her pulsing channel and used his other hand to flick his thumb with delicious speed across her clit.

  Oh God. Sophie bit her lip against the coiling swirling tighter and tauter between her cunt, belly, and breasts. Please. She wanted to come again. Every pressure point in her body sat on a spring inside her that desperately wanted to snap, but she couldn’t make it happen. Emma and Jade had recovered from their releases, slid off the table, and slipped out of the study, clothing in hand. But Magnus, God, Magnus’s face had gone so stoic yet flushed, while his erection had so many veins engorged in crimson, full of blood, he had to be in serious pain. Sophie shoved herself into the drive of Lucien’s fingers, grunting like a tennis pro slamming a ball across the court each time he filled her channel, but the throb deep inside her would not explode.

  “Come on, Miss Emerson.” Lucien’s voice seeped into her pores as deeply as his fingers did her pussy. “Give it up for me.” He grazed his mouth up her nape and commanded, “Now.” Then he licked behind her ear, and a deep moan slipped past his lips.

  Sophie needed nothing else. As orgasm rushed through her, she let a hoarse shout rip through her being. The second she screamed, Magnus roared, and ropes of cum shot out of his cock and onto his shirt. Objectively, Magnus was a thing of harsh beauty in the throes of release, but Sophie could only crave the man behind her right now. She reared upright and reached back to lock her arms around Lucien’s waist. His fingers slipped free of her cunt, but it didn’t matter. She held on to him in a different way, in a way that somehow felt a thousand times more intimate than his digits penetrating her body. With her fingers digging into his lower back through his shirt, tangling them together, Sophie rocked into Lucien’s hand covering her mound and tweaking her clit, and reveled in the feel of his big, hard body locked in place behind her. Orgasm continued to wash through her, this time in a gentler yet longer cycle. Sophie rode the wave of the soft clenching in her sex and belly and understood that Lucien extended the life of her release with constant light pressure on her bead.

  When the last ebb fin
ally flowed away, Sophie turned in Lucien’s arms. She reached down to undo his pants, but he sidestepped out of touching distance. Rigidity filled his frame and face, and she could not ignore that his cock was visibly rock-hard too.

  “What about you?” she asked, eying his erection and trying to ignore the amber ice in his eyes. “Who takes care of you?”

  Lucien’s mouth barely moved as he spoke. “That’s not how it works.” Then, she could not believe it, but he went to his desk and sat down. “Magnus”—Lucien did not even acknowledge the man with eye contact—“you are free to go clean up.”

  As Magnus stuffed his spent prick into his underwear and pulled everything to his waist, he looked at Sophie. Gentleness now softened the rough edges of his face, and such a feeling of friendship welled in Sophie that tears burned behind her eyes. Magnus mouthed, Don’t give up, before offering her a small smile and leaving the room.

  Without looking up at Sophie, Lucien added, “Miss Emerson, you may go clean up too.”

  Son of a bitch. Sophie knew Lucien was hard as all get-out behind that desk, and he just needed thirty seconds alone to take care of it. Nu-huh. If the stubborn bastard didn’t want her to help him come, then said bastard could sit there and suffer. It was either that or excuse himself from the study, which Sophie already knew Lucien would consider tantamount to conceding defeat.

  Sticky as heck, smelling like sex, her ass still hot from Lucien’s spanking, and tender between her thighs, Sophie righted her clothing and took a seat. Shifting gingerly in her chair, she said, “I’m good. Thank you,” and retrieved a folder containing correspondences between William and Jude.

  Lucien grunted, “Suit yourself,” and pulled his laptop across the desk.

  In a stalemate, neither of them moved or made another comment until Emma entered hours later to announce dinner.

  Chapter Eight

  “I swear, Miranda,” Sophie said over the phone, “everything here is fine.” Sophie’s skin heated as she deliberately left out any part of what had happened in Lucien’s study yesterday afternoon. That would definitely not be part of their Raven Island story. “Better than, even. Mr. Cabot has agreed to let us do the piece. It’s just a matter of waiting for access to Ravenstoke so you can get a feel for it and the story yourself. While we’re waiting, I’m getting in a lot of research about its history.”

  “The mainland is still trashed,” Miranda shared. “And the marina looks like some kid was playing a violent game of pirates in his bathtub and wrecked all his toy boats. Everyone at the station has been out covering the cleanup nonstop. I’ve barely been home to sleep.”

  “Who’s producing you?” Sophie itched to dive fully back into her job. Withdrawal symptoms had her circling the meeting area on the second level of Ravenstoke with a prowling gait. “Bill better not have put you with Dirk the Jerk.” The guy’s reputation for being just enough of a prick to the women at the station to be annoying but not enough to get him fired was legendary. Sophie had ambition that went well beyond producing the lead stories for the prime hours of local newscasts. She wanted Bill’s job one day. She wanted to call the shots. Every day, with every story she produced, she told herself patience and hard work would eventually get her there.

  “He teamed me with Brad, so it’s been good. But not great,” Miranda added. “I want you back.”

  “Hopefully within a week.” The pulsing drive inside Sophie to get back to work warred with her growing need to delve deeper inside Lucien’s head and heart to learn the secrets of the private man. Shaking herself back into the moment, she said, “I know you barely have a free minute, but start reading those files I emailed you when you get a chance.”

  “I already took a quick peek. It looks like it’ll be a great story.” Masculine murmurs sounded through the phone, and then Miranda said, “That’s Brad. I have to go. Talk to you soon.”

  “Stay safe.”

  Miranda’s laugh cackled through the earpiece. “For some reason, I still think I should be saying that to you. Bye!”

  “Bye.”

  After ending the call, Sophie threw herself down on the couch, determined to get back to work. She grabbed one of Lucien’s folders, filled with copies of correspondences to William’s wife from family and friends she’d left in England. Fingering the first sheet of paper did nothing to corral her focus. It only slipped her thoughts to the polite silence that had existed for hours in Lucien’s study yesterday after he’d made her come.

  Sophie grumbled where she sat, still wanting to spit glass in the face of Lucien’s willpower. No, that wasn’t exactly right. His coolness toward her did smart, but more than that, it dismayed and confused her. Lucien’s ability to turn his sexual needs on and off, with so much overwhelming carnal desire on full display all around him, had her wondering if a major component of his makeup was robot rather than human. She knew he had feelings; she’d picked up on him fighting his temper in the face of some of the challenges she’d thrown his way in the last few days. Then there was the playfulness he’d exhibited with Owen in the snow too. But the sheer mental strength he’d possessed to talk down his raging hard-on and not let himself orgasm when everyone else around him had stunned her. Maybe concerned her as well. Made Sophie wonder if Lucien had the ability to control every other aspect of his life so ruthlessly too.

  Shivering, she recalled how an Internet search last night for information about Josh Cabot’s death hadn’t turned up a single piece of information for anyone with that name, alive or dead, in the last ten years. No variation of the first name had succeeded either. Sophie knew the man had to be real and that he had passed away; Emma would not speak of Owen’s father to the boy in that manner, nor would Lucien, for that matter, as part of some con on Sophie. Rather, for Sophie, it displayed more of the absolute power Lucien had and how he could direct it when he chose to. He clearly controlled the information about him and his brother on the Internet, and right now Sophie did not have access to deeper, more expensive types of searches. I’m stuck. Sophie chuckled with derision. Just where he wants me.

  Every hair on Sophie’s arms suddenly tingled and lifted. She didn’t have to look over her shoulder to know Lucien walked down the hall behind her. Shoot. Each quiet step that brought him closer to her ignited a response deep in her core.

  By the time Lucien rounded the couch and came into Sophie’s line of sight, her throat had gone dry. One look at him, with his austere, beautiful face and cool stare, attached her tongue to the roof of her mouth. She couldn’t even let herself absorb the rest of his sinewy, hard body in snug black clothing. She knew if she did, she would visibly tremble under his casual scrutiny.

  “Good morning, Miss Emerson.” Lucien offered her an abbreviated bow. “You’re up early.”

  It took a moment to get moisture back into her mouth, but Sophie managed to reply, “This is more on par with my normal wakeup time. I don’t usually keep the late hours I had the first few nights of my stay.” With the images of why she hadn’t slept much filling her brain, an immediate warmth suffused Sophie’s sex, but she successfully overpowered the urge to cross her legs. “It took me a few days to adjust, but I think I’m there.”

  “Let Emma know if you need anything.” With a slight dip of his head, Lucien turned to leave.

  Don’t do it. Don’t do it. You’re poking a barely caged animal. “Is this who you are, Mr. Cabot?” Sophie blurted anyway.

  From the top of the stairs, Lucien turned and narrowed that citrine focus on her. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Needing to be on at least a somewhat more level ground with him, Sophie stood and moved to stand in front of him. She still had to look up to see into his eyes, but at least she no longer felt as if she was cowering on the couch. “Are you the kind of guy who introduces a woman to exhibitionism and makes her come, only to then behave as though it never happened?”

  Lucien arched one of his raven brows. “I wasn’t aware you wanted to have a conversation about it. What would you
like to say?”

  “God, you are such a frustrating man.” Sophie clenched her fingers so that she didn’t grab the fine knit of his black sweater and shake him.

  “That’s not exactly news to me.” His grin would tempt the pope to smack him.

  With a glare, Sophie muttered through clenched teeth, “And you just looovvve watching me twist uncomfortably in the wind.”

  “I don’t wish you any discomfort at all.” Lucien maintained that maddening rational tone. “You showed an interest in what happens at Ravenstoke. I gave you a sample of it. If you’d like another taste, then simply ask, and I will happily accommodate you. Your problem, Miss Emerson”—he dipped down to speak softly at her ear—“is that you want what happened to be more complicated than it is. I imagine that’s the producer in you searching for connections and a story.”

  “No,” she retorted, “that’s the human being inside me looking for some subtle human acknowledgment from you that you had your fingers buried inside me until you made me come. Twice.” Her voice had reached a shrieklike state, but dang, she could not control it. “In front of other people!”

  Lucien looked as if they were having a casual brunch in a restaurant full of people. “How would you like me to acknowledge it? Should I have kissed you good morning?” The gold flecks in his irises twinkled. “Or maybe you’d rather I drag you to bed and fuck you as a hello.”

  “At this precise moment, I promise you that screwing me is the very last thing I want you to do.” Every ounce of control Lucien exhibited so easily, something he clearly relished showing her, pushed Sophie’s control to its breaking point. “God, you are a son of a bitch sometimes.”