by Lora Leigh
Sarah had a feeling she was going to pay for teasing him only seconds before leaving him with the other two men to watch the baby. Drace usually stayed up for hours in the evening.
He stepped into the hot tub, his cock, thick and delicious, at level with Sarah’s face now.
“Your choice,” he growled.
Sarah shivered deliciously. She opened her mouth.
Instantly she was filled with the thick male flesh pulsing so demandingly. Her lips closed over it, her tongue flickering against the head teasingly as her hands rose to grip his thighs. She was aware of Marly and Heather moving from the hot tub, fleeing from the sexual tension beginning to build in the grotto.
Brock’s hands gripped her head as he began to thrust in and out of her mouth. This was his retaliation. He always gave her the choice to begin with. She could ease the demands of his body, which she usually teased to a fever pitch, with her mouth or between her thighs. She always tried to stay in control. But she knew damned well what would happen next if she wasn’t extremely careful.
“Such a hot little mouth.” His words washed over her, spurring her own lust. “So tight and wet. That’s it, baby. Lick my cock. Just like that.”
She normally loved how very vocal he could get in his hunger for her. He never failed to tell her how much he enjoyed her touch. How hot her mouth was. How very good her tongue felt.
“There you go, baby. Suck me. Suck me harder, Sarah.” Her lips were wrapped around the turgid heat, suckling deeply, drawing him as far into her mouth as comfortable. She was quite adept at nearly taking him to her throat and then swallowing almost convulsively.
She did this now. Allowing the head to sink to the entrance of her throat, working desperately to swallow his flesh as he groaned in delirium. Oh, he loved that. His thighs trembled, pre-come leaking from the tip of his cock, salty and sweet at the same time. Then she drew back, savoring the taste that exploded on her tongue as pearly liquid dripped from his cock. He was close. So close, she could feel it.
His balls were tight against the base of his shaft, his breathing loud in the grotto, almost strangled with pleasure as he drove as deep as he dared into her mouth once again. Her fingers cupped his scrotum, caressed it as her other hand stroked the remaining length of his shaft not buried in her mouth.
“Fuck. Yes, baby,” he groaned. “Swallow my cock, Sarah. God, it’s good. Too fucking good.”
He was muttering his pleasure constantly now. A litany of scattered explicit phrases that had her flushing with heat, her vagina pulsing with need. She was already pleasantly tender from his lusty play hours before. She had a feeling she would be exquisitely sore before it was over with.
“Sarah. I’m going to come.” He always warned her first. Gave her the chance to pull back, to let him finish in the depths of her pussy rather than spilling his seed in her mouth and making him harder, hungrier, for the flesh between her thighs.
As always, by now, she was craving the taste of him, nearly demented in her need to feel the hard wash of semen blasting down her throat. Like a favorite dessert, she couldn’t deny herself. Her lips tightened on him, her stroking hands intensifying the pleasure as his hand buried in her hair, fingers clenching, his hips thrusting harder, faster into her mouth.
The burst of his release had her groaning in pleasure. The tart taste of his semen washed over her tongue. His cock stroked over it spilling the rich essence as she tried to swallow the flesh coming so close to her throat.
Hard, liquid pulses of pleasure accompanied by his throttled shouts of release washed through her. Sarah wanted to cry out at the depth of her own satisfaction. Even without her orgasm, knowing she brought her husband to the point of such pleasure never failed to heat her entire body. Never failed to keep him hard, make him hungrier than ever before.
He pulled from her mouth with a lusty growl, his hands gripping her waist, pulling her up until she sat on the padded edge of the hot tub. There were no preliminaries. He spread her thighs, bending her back, then watched as he sank every hard, hot length of his cock deep inside the slick portal awaiting him there.
“Brock,” she cried out, as helpless as always to still her own vocal enjoyment of the act.
“That hot little mouth is like an aphrodisiac,” he growled as his head lowered, his tongue licking at the hard point of one nipple. “I can’t fuck you enough, Sarah. I can’t get enough of the pleasure, baby. I can’t come hard enough to ever sate the need I have for you.”
She almost climaxed at the power of emotion echoing in his voice. He always hungered for her. She knew that. Reveled in it. Loved it. Her cunt tightened convulsively around the thrusting shaft, her clitoris throbbing with each stroke of his pelvis against it. He was destroying her. Stroke by stroke, by each whispered entreaty, each earthy vow.
“Harder,” she cried out at the carefully paced strokes. She needed him now. Needed him to take her hard and fast before she poured out every secret he demanded that lay in her soul. “Please, Brock. Fuck me harder. Now.”
He chuckled against the curve of her breast. “You know better than that, baby.”
She groaned. “Please, Brock. Please.”
“Give me what I want, Sarah.” He burrowed deep and hard, parting the muscles of her vagina with a shatteringly slow thrust, stroking each nerve, each tissue, with destructive pleasure. “Come on, baby. I promise I won’t tattle.”
She knew better. Knew if she dared voice the need he would never be able to keep it to himself.
“Now, Sarah.” He stroked inside her harder, deeper. Then pulled back with such exquisite hesitation her back bowed as she fought to end the sensual torture.
“No. Please, Brock, please take me harder.” She shook her head, tightening on him, her flesh spasming with the need for release. Hot, liquid desire spilled through her vagina, gushing around the pulsing shaft as she begged for more.
“Anything you want, baby,” he crooned an instant before he slammed inside her, hard and fast. “Tell me, Sarah.”
She could hear his control weakening. His cock pulsed, throbbed inside her.
“Oh God, Brock. You’re so thick. So hard.” She shook her head, so immersed in the pleasure, the need to climax, that she was reaching her own breaking point.
“Sarah,” he groaned, fighting for his own control. God help her if he ever found out how weak he made her. How much she wanted to give him what he asked for.
“Tell me.” He retreated until only the head of his cock remained inside her. “God, Sarah, don’t you know I’d give you the universe itself if I could? Just tell me what you want.”
Desperation and pain filled his voice. Sarah’s eyes opened, and she stared into the dark depths of her husband’s tortured gaze.
“I love you, Sarah. More than my own life.” His hands clenched on her hips. Sweat glistened on his face as his expression drew into lines of painful need. “Please, baby. Please don’t hurt anymore.”
And he knew. Tears filled her eyes. It wasn’t just a game. He knew how desperately she needed, he just didn’t know what she needed, and she could see the pain that caused. A pain she wanted to ease, yet she knew that the revelation in words could cause more harm than good.
Her fingers lifted to his cheek, trembling as tears spilled down her own cheeks. She loved him. She needed him. But she needed him whole.
“My heart,” she sobbed, unwilling to hold it back any longer. Her hand fell to his chest, flattened over his heart. “Mine, Brock. My soul and my life. That’s all I want. All of you.” It was as much as she could give. But was it enough?
Brock stilled. His eyes widened. She felt his hands tighten with bruising strength on her hips as something glittered in his eyes.
“Always yours,” he whispered. A second later he was plunging so hard and deep inside her, so fast and desperate, she felt her soul soaring from her body as she erupted around him a second before his climax exploded inside her.
Deep, hard, pulsing spurts of his seed vibrated deep
inside her, throwing her higher as her womb erupted in an orgasm that had her screaming, her head falling back, her pleasure filling the air as her thighs tightened on his, holding him deep, taking every drop of ecstasy he spilled.
They collapsed on the heated wood surrounding the hot tub, their breathing rough, ragged.
“You have a lot to learn about me, Sarah,” he whispered breathlessly. “And there’s a hell of a lot you’re not seeing. Now, baby, ask for what you want. If you dare.”
She watched as he raised his head, staring down at her, his expression, for once, closed, cool.
“Brock?”
He moved away from her, watching her, his expression dark, controlled.
“If you can’t trust me that far, Sarah, trust me enough to give me your every dream, then you can’t trust me to love you, either. Can you?”
She shook her head, her chest tightening in pain. “I know you love me. I love you, Brock.”
“Do you?” He rose to his feet, his eyes never leaving hers. “If you did, then that trust would be there. You would open your eyes as you expect me to open mine, and see what’s right in front of your face. When you can do that, let me know. We can talk then.”
Chapter Four
“This isn’t going to work.” Sarah tried to still her panic as she faced the other two women the next day. Brock had been too silent the night before. He had watched her too intently, too knowingly. He knew, and the very fact that he hadn’t said anything was scaring her to death.
“Settle down, Sarah.” Marly moved to the living room door, checking the dining room and entry hall before closing the door quickly. “We don’t need the housekeeper to hear us.”
“Not to mention the men.” Heather paced the room. “This is getting too damned difficult. We’re only weeks away from Christmas, Marly.”
“What happened, Sarah?” Marly asked as Sarah sat down heavily on the couch.
“God, this is such a mess,” she groaned. “I did my best, Marly. I swear I did. I was nice and vague, just like we agreed, but I think he guessed. He guessed and now he’s madder than hell that I didn’t just tell him. I knew this was a bad idea.”
She glanced up as Heather and Marly shared a worried look.
“What?” she asked warily.
“Cade isn’t speaking to me, either.” Marly was wringing her hands, her blue eyes wide, upset. “He came to bed last night and just gave me this really strange look before he kissed my forehead and rolled over and went to sleep. He didn’t say anything. He always talks to me before we go to sleep.”
“Sam was acting strange, too.” Heather pushed her fingers through her already rumpled hair. “God, this is such a mess. And it shouldn’t be this damned hard. We shouldn’t have to play games like this, Marly.”
“Do you have another suggestion?” Marly was growing increasingly frustrated now. “Dammit, both of you know how we tried to talk to them before. It didn’t work then. Why would it work now?”
They were all silent. Sarah frowned as something Brock had said the night before continued to haunt her. That the answer to what she wanted was right before her eyes. Her heart had slammed in her chest then, and it did again now.
“Marly?” She raised her eyes to the other woman. “They’ve stopped.”
Marly shook her head as she stared at her in confusion. “What?”
Sarah frowned as she considered the past nine months. “Think about it. Admittedly, we haven’t given any of them much of a chance to try, but they don’t try, either. They’ve stopped.”
Heather and Marly stilled. “We realize that, Sarah.” Heather sighed. “But it has to continue this way.”
Sarah shook her head demandingly. “No. Listen to me. Think about it. It’s completely stopped. No little butt pats. No hot little looks. The whole nine yards. It’s stopped.”
Marly and Heather both watched her in bemusement. Had they somehow gotten what they were fighting for, without fighting for it? Had the men not paid any attention to their careful avoidance of being alone with any of them, other than their chosen husbands, out of choice?
Marly sat down slowly. “She’s right,” she whispered, looking at Heather in surprise. “I know Cade. All the avoidance in the world wouldn’t work if he got horny enough to go after it. They’ve stopped on their own.”
They had been so concerned with their subtle maneuvers to be certain there was no opportunity for the three men to catch one of them alone, or to try to seduce them into their erotic, heated play. They hadn’t realized that the men weren’t trying to do so.
“Now what?” Heather asked softly. “How can we be certain they won’t want to try to reestablish those relationships later?”
Sarah breathed in roughly. “I’m certain, Heather. Brock is madder than hell right now.” The very thought of that terrified her. “He pointed out to me, rather coolly, that maybe what I wanted was right in front of my eyes and I had refused to see it. I think he’s right. We’ve been so concerned with protecting them, with trying to feel our way through this for the past year, that we haven’t noticed the change in them.” And that broke her heart. “We didn’t see that it wasn’t our machinations, but their decision to stop themselves.”
She watched the other two women pale. “God. We’re in some deep trouble here.” Marly swallowed tightly. “A pissed August male is not a good thing.”
Heather snorted. “What are they gonna do? Divorce us?” she asked them both in irritation. “Okay, so we fucked up. They were a little less clueless than we imagined. But they still haven’t figured out exactly what we want. I say we tell them straight out and see what happens.”
Marly and Sarah both shot her a look of incredulity.
“Get real!” Marly snapped. “That might work with Sam, and you can go for it if you think it will. But not Cade. You forget his sense of responsibility. His determination to keep this family together. This will break his heart if we do it your way, Heather. I won’t risk that.”
“It’s not like we want to move to another state, Marly,” Heather argued. “For God’s sake, he would be able to see the house outside his bedroom window. Dammit, as much as I love you and Sarah, and the other brothers, I want my own home. I want my own family, too.”
There was a wealth of pain, of growing despondency, in the other woman’s words. There was the dream they all held. Their own homes. Their own families. The freedom to bring children into a full, productive family unit rather than the unconventional lifestyle they had lived.
It had been different when they married. New to the sexual excesses the men provided, they had been flying on sensuality and the freedom to give into the more extreme fantasies they all had at one time or another. But now, with Marly’s pregnancy and Drace’s birth, they had found a core of need inside them that terrified them all. Possessiveness. They wanted their husbands to themselves. They wanted their own homes. Their own families.
“So what do we do?” Sarah asked them both softly. “We can’t destroy them. We can’t hurt them for our needs. Where does that leave us?”
“Damned if I know,” Marly finally sighed bleakly. “But we have to do something now. Because sure as hell they’re all three onto us, and they won’t wait long before they hit us with it. We have to be prepared.”
Damn. Sarah had a feeling the next few days were going to be less than pleasant.
* * * * *
“They’re plotting again.” Cade looked up from the baby he held securely in his arms to Sam as he walked into the nursery.
Brock was already there. He stood at the window, silent, morose. He was letting this affect him too deeply. Feeling too guilty over something that could be fixed. And Cade was certain it could be fixed.
Drace cooed in delight as Cade continued to rock him, his drowsy blue eyes staring up with an innocence that could only be found in a child’s eyes. Eyes so much like Marly’s. Drace’s features more like his father’s. It made Cade wonder what their daughter would look like. And he was damned d
etermined he wanted one. A fiery little bit of temper and beauty like his Marly, driving them all crazy with her less than logical ways. And his Marly could definitely be less than logical.
He smoothed a finger over Drace’s cheek, smiling as the baby giggled and latched onto his fingers. He was already crawling. Put the little imp on the floor and he would be off and struggling to find some kind of adventure that was less than safe. He looked like his daddy. Acted more like his mommy.
“Did you hear me, Cade?” Sam stood by the closed door, and Cade knew his brother’s eyes would be glittering with anticipation and amusement.
“What now?” He winced as Drace bit into his finger, the small, barely visible teeth stinging the hard pad of flesh.
“Well, at least they know we’re onto them.” There was laughter in Sam’s voice. Only God knew how that lightened Cade’s heart.
Drace yawned, his little eyelids drifting down as he gnawed contentedly on Cade’s finger.
Cade snorted. “I was onto them days ago. Sarah just affirmed it.” Brock had been furious with himself when he came to Cade and Sam and revealed the nature of the women’s wishes.
“We should have seen it sooner,” Brock murmured.
“We did, Brock,” Cade reminded him of their conversation months after Marly’s pregnancy had been confirmed. “It was our decision to stop. We just didn’t know how far they wanted to take it.”
A year ago, it would have killed something in him to see his brothers and their wives leave his home. They had been a part of each other for so long, he didn’t know if he could have survived it then. Drace had changed that, though. The thought of the other children Marly had talked about wanting had cemented the decision. He didn’t give a damn what the townspeople gossiped about, but he couldn’t face the pain it could bring his children. Couldn’t face the thought of raising them in any way that wasn’t conventional.
