Plugging It In

by Lexxie Couper

  Watching Bran silence Ruckus with a brutal, hungry, and passionate kiss was like getting an injection of liquefied lust. She’d been horny for most of the night in their company, but now…

  Whoa. Horny didn’t even begin to describe it.

  A raw growl filled the room, part sexual need, part surrender, just as Bran tore his lips from Ruckus’s. She had no clue whom it came from but it sent a hot ribbon of tension unfurling through her core.

  Jolting to her feet, she rubbed her thighs together and fixed the two men—no longer kissing, but rather, sitting silent with their foreheads pressed together, their eyes closed and their chests heaving—with a level gaze. They looked so perfect together. And she was little more than an interloper. “If you’ll excuse me,” she croaked, her clit throbbing, her pussy squeezing. “I have to…to…”

  “Stay exactly where you are.”

  Ruckus’s low instruction flayed her. Her heart smashed into her throat. His piercing blue eyes slid to her, ablaze with open desire, as he dropped his fist from Bran’s hair. Bran straightened into an upright position on the edge of the coffee table, turning to study RG.

  What she saw in his eyes caught her breath and sent fresh pulsing pressure to her sex.

  Hunger.

  “We’re not finished with you yet,” Ruckus said, as Bran rose to his feet, stare trained on RG.

  RG studied them both, her heart wild, her stomach fluttering, her pussy doing the same, and then curled her lips in a slow smile and cocked one eyebrow. “’K,” she said. “Where do you want me?”

  *

  Two monumental events of Bran’s life were taking place simultaneously: first, Ruckus was his again; and second, he was about to have sex with his most important client, breaking one of his deeply held personal rules—never mix business with pleasure.

  Both events made Bran’s body thrum and burn with an energy absent in his life since the man he knew as Rick had shared his bed.

  “I’m ready to play.” RG’s low murmur stoked the hunger searing through his veins. A dare burned in her eyes. “Are you?”

  To some it would appear like combative aggression, but Bran recognized it for what it was—RG sizing up the players. He’d followed her meteoric rise to success in the male-dominated gamer world closer than any other in his profession. He knew her tactics, her strengths, her game play. She was a force to be reckoned with, a force who disarmed her opponents with unpredictability and subterfuge. A powerhouse of determination and ferocity. She was bringing that force to this moment now, challenging him.

  He was ready for that challenge, and he knew Ruckus was as well.

  When it came to sex, he and Ruckus were always on the same page.

  It had only been what was in their hearts that differed.

  “Bran.”

  He started at Rick’s calm utterance of his name. No, at Ruckus’s utterance. He had to get that through his head. Ruckus.

  “Yes?” Damn, could his throat be any tighter?

  Ruckus met his look with an unreadable gaze. “Retrieve the silk ropes from the spare room, please.”

  Liquid heat flooded Bran’s groin.

  “The what?” RG’s question filled the silence.

  Ruckus turned to her. “Do you remember how we fucked in Hell’s Harbour, Reaper?”

  Something enigmatic crossed her face at Ruckus’s use of her online persona’s name. “I do. I tied you spread-eagle to the support struts in the Seawitch’s galley, climbed you like a koala, and rode you until we both depleted our energy reserves.”

  Bran’s cock pulsed in his trousers at her no-frills description of what she and Ruckus had done—as Reaper and Stoneheart—in the cyber world of her game.

  “We’re about to deplete our energy reserves, RG,” Ruckus said. “But I’m not the one being tied up.”

  Just like that, RG’s pupils dilated. Her lips parted. Her chest heaved in a shaky breath.

  Ruckus smiled, and then slid his gaze to Bran. “Don’t forget the cock ring.”

  The heat in Bran’s groin turned to steel. Hungry, excited, nervous steel.

  “Now,” Ruckus ordered, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down the smooth brown column of his throat, the only hint the sexually charged moment affected him as it did Bran.

  “The teardrop?”

  The corner of Ruckus’s mouth curled in the tiniest smile.

  Bran’s cock pulsed again. Ruckus was not a cruel sexual partner, but his level of control during sex came close to scary sometimes. At least, it had between him and Bran, something Bran found intoxicating and exhilarating.

  How different would it be tonight with RG joining them? What would Ruckus do? Would he be gentle with her? With Bran? Would he participate or just instruct their actions? Bran had never been in a ménage before. He’d had women sex partners, as well as men, but never both at the same time. He had no idea what to expect.

  Would Ruckus delve deeply into the BDSM play he and Bran enjoyed, or would he be more…vanilla with her? Was it even possible for Ruckus to be vanilla? In anything?

  “What’s the teardrop?”

  At RG’s question, Ruckus indicated to Bran to answer her.

  RG studied him from where she sat in the chair beside the coffee table.

  “The teardrop,” Bran met her unwavering gaze, “is a stainless steel teardrop-shaped cock ring. It circles the base of the penis and cups the scrotum. With every thrust into something tight and wet…like a tight pussy, or a tight arse…its pointed end massages the wearer’s perineum in an inescapable caress that is part pain, part pleasure.”

  RG’s breasts heaved at his description.

  His pulse quickened. “Are you ready for this, RG?”

  She studied him, and then turned to regard Ruckus for a long moment. He could see the excitement in her eyes warring with an unreadable emotion.

  Was it love? Did she love Ruckus, the way he did?

  Was that even possible?

  And if she did, how did he feel about that?

  “So one of you is going to tie me up with silk rope, and one of you is going to wear this teardrop cock ring?”

  “Yes.”

  Bran jumped a little at Ruckus’s low affirmation. So did RG, a soft gasp falling from her lips.

  “And then the three of us…”

  “Go do what you’ve been instructed to do, Bran,” Ruckus ordered, his enigmatic gaze fixed on RG.

  Bran hurried from the room. It was for the best. Christ knows what would happen to him at the sound of her voice describing their impending threesome. As it was, he was on the verge of detonation at the mere thought of being able to touch Ruckus again. Touch him, hold him, lick him.

  He retrieved the ropes and cock ring from the drawer in the spare room. Neither had been used or even touched since Ruckus was in his life. At the sight of them, Bran’s heart smashed up into his throat and his gut clenched. He’d had sex since Ruckus ended their relationship—with both genders—but those times had been as vanilla as they came. Bran couldn’t bring himself to succumb to someone else’s control during sex, and the partners he’d had expected him to be as dominating in the bedroom as he was in business.

  But now…with Ruckus…with RG…

  His hands shook. His chest constricted, a vise of crushing pressure.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled a deep, slow breath. Calm, be calm. Before you fuck it all up and Rick leaves you again…

  Hands still shaking, he strode back to the living room. Without a word, he crossed to where RG still sat, watching Ruckus. He flicked Ruckus a glance in a silent request for directions.

  “Show her.”

  He did as instructed, holding out his hands. In his right hung coiled loops of blood-red silk rope. In his left, dangling from his index finger like an over-sized ring, was the teardrop.

  “Holy fuck.”

  Bran swallowed. The raw sexual excitement in RG’s whisper sheared through him, flooding his cock with fresh hunger.

  “Are
you sure, RG?” Ruckus asked.

  She arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you kidding?”

  Bran couldn’t help but chuckle. Her feisty courage and fearless confidence was such a fucking turn-on.

  “In that case,” Ruckus said, “remove Bran’s clothes and make him come any way you want.”

  Chapter 5

  Her hands shook.

  Ruckus had never seen her so affected. It churned in him a conflicted sense of power and protectiveness.

  Would he be doing this if she’d admitted to being in love with him this morning? Was this some fucked-up way of punishing her for not being truthful with him? With herself?

  He watched her, silent, as she gazed at Bran. Her eyebrows dipped in a frown, before she flicked him a quick glance.

  He didn’t move, despite how much the urge to step between RG and Bran made his muscles coil.

  His throat thickened, a heavy lump making itself at home. Was he punishing Bran as well? Bran, who had fallen in love with him when they were together, despite Ruckus making it clear love was off the table? And if that indeed was the case, why was his chest now wrapped in an invisible vise? Why did he feel guilty? And jealous? He didn’t do guilt or jealousy. He had no need for either emotion, and yet here he sat, watching the woman he hungered for on a level that worried him, about to sexually pleasure—on his instruction—the man who’d once consumed his every waking moment.

  Guilt and jealousy lashed at him again, tight and hot and impossible to deny. He ground his teeth and relaxed back into the armchair, forcing an air of almost indifference to his body. Whatever was going on with his head, he would deal with it later. After this…

  This was the moment, the now, and Ruckus had learnt many years ago to live in the now and deal with whatever might come from it later.

  The now was about to forever change RG’s and Bran’s worlds. How they came out of this would dictate how Ruckus moved forward.

  Huh. And you don’t know already? Isn’t this the point in your life, when you’re feeling this…this connected to a person that you walk away from them? So why are you not walking? And why are you wanting this threesome more than anything you’ve ever wanted?

  Why?

  Because the second Bran’s voice sounded through the speaker of his phone that afternoon, an onslaught of hungry memories overwhelmed him. Their fierce lust for each other, their savage passion, Bran’s eager submission to Ruckus’s far-from-passive sexual domination, the warm ease of their post-fucking conversations, the allure of their comfortable silences…

  RG regarded him, her glorious breasts rising and falling with each deep, shaky breath she pulled. Bran also studied him, waiting for Ruckus’s permission—as had always been the way between them.

  “Make Brannum come, gorgeous.” Ruckus inclined his head to RG. “Any way you choose.”

  The tip of her tongue slid over her bottom lip. Her breasts rose and fell again, and then she turned her attention to Bran. So did Ruckus.

  Bran’s Adam’s apple jerked up and down his throat. He watched her approach him. Ruckus didn’t miss that his hands shook as much as hers.

  If you held up your hands, would they be doing the same?

  He curled his fingers into fists, released them again, and drew a slow breath.

  RG stepped closer still to Bran and reached for the fly of his trousers.

  Ruckus’s breath turned ragged.

  Bran cleared his throat and tugged loose the Windsor knot at his neck.

  In business, Bran was about control. When it came to sex, he relinquished that control. At least, that’s how it had been with Ruckus. How would it be with RG?

  The sound of a zipper lowering filled the room. Bran and RG gazed at each other, both imprisoned by the enormity of the first move.

  Ruckus ground his teeth. If he told them to stop, would they thank him or curse him?

  A quick glance at Bran’s crotch hinted at the answer. Bran’s engorged dick bulged through the opening of his suit pants, straining against the black silk of his boxers.

  Ruckus’s body reacted to the thought of the delicate fabric on Bran’s rigid erection.

  “Hand?” RG’s husky question lifted his attention back to their faces. “Or mouth?”

  Bran’s Adam’s apple slid up and down his throat again. “You decide.”

  Ruckus bit back a groan at the raw excitement in his ex-lover’s voice. His own cock pulsed, pushing against the inside of his trousers. He might be a conflicted mess about what was happening, but it was also making him hard.

  Very hard.

  RG chuckled. “Mouth it is.”

  Both Ruckus and Bran hissed in a breath.

  And then RG turned her blue eyes on him, a wicked smile curling her lips. “Ruckus’s mouth.”

  A thrumming stillness fell over him. Before he could stop himself, he looked at Bran.

  He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to experience the man’s cock in his mouth again. He wasn’t ready for the raw lust it would awake in him, a lust only rivaled by what he felt for RG.

  “You said any way I want.” Devilish challenge threaded through RG’s voice. “I want you to make Brannum come with your mouth.”

  A muscle ticked in Bran’s jaw. His nostrils flared. He didn’t speak. If this was a business meeting, he would. He’d eviscerate the challenge to his control. But it wasn’t. In this environment, Bran was the willing submissive.

  Ruckus’s cock throbbed at the notion. At the contradiction the man was.

  Sliding his gaze back to RG, Ruckus swallowed. “That’s not what I meant by any way.”

  She laughed, eyes twinkling. “Suck it up, buttercup. You, of all people, should know I take advantage of any crack in an opponent’s armor.”

  Ruckus narrowed his eyes. His heart smashed against his chest like a sledgehammer. “Opponent?”

  “Right now? Hell, yeah. You can punish me for capitalizing on your weakness later. But now…” She wriggled her fingers in the direction of Bran’s groin.

  “I can leave,” Bran uttered, the words a scratchy breath.

  Ruckus snapped his stare to Bran’s face. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  RG chuckled. “That’s my little Ruckus.”

  Bran didn’t move; a statue of male perfection wrapped in a suit that only served to highlight his exquisite body.

  Until Bran’s call had come that day, Ruckus believed the only person he ever wanted to have sex with again was RG. And yet now here the three of them were—Bran offering to bring an end to that which Ruckus feared and wanted more than anything.

  He flicked RG a quick glance. “Is this what you want? What you really want?”

  She regarded him, silent, an unreadable light burning in her eyes, the gaze of a woman who knew more about what made him tick than he ever thought she did. “Yes.”

  He looked back to Bran. “Come here, Brannum.”

  Bran’s chest rose with a choppy breath.

  A band of tight electricity rushed through Ruckus. He shifted on the armchair, inching forward until his butt rested on the edge of the seat. A slow smile curled his lips as he studied Bran’s face. “Come. Over. Here.”

  Four steps. That was all it took. Bran closed the distance between them—a distance not just physical, but emotional as well—in four steps.

  He stopped directly in front of Ruckus, looking down into his face.

  And now, Ruckus slid his hand up over the hot steel bulge of Bran’s silk-covered erection, everything changes.

  “Rick…” Bran whispered as Ruckus’s hand cupped the heavy globes of his scrotum. “Oh God, Rick…”

  Ruckus raised his stare to Bran’s face. “It’s Ruckus, Brannum. Say it. Ruckus.”

  Hunger flared in Bran’s eyes. Undeniable, open hunger. “Ruck—”

  Ruckus yanked the band of Bran’s boxers down before he could finish and engulfed the rigid length of his cock with his mouth.

  Bran bucked, slamming his hips forward. “Oh fuck, yes.”


  “Oh yeah,” RG moaned.

  He sucked hard, taking Bran’s entire shaft into his mouth, his throat. Pleasure lashed at him as Bran’s flesh stuffed his mouth, blocked his airway. He plunged lower, forcing Bran’s cockhead against the back of his throat, kneading Bran’s balls with one hand while he reached for the zipper of his own trousers.

  “No, no.” RG’s voice caressed the dark cloud of lust enveloping him. “I didn’t say you could touch yourself.”

  Bran groaned, her control of the situation making his cock jerk in Ruckus’s mouth.

  Aching with denied need, he moved his hand to Bran’s butt, holding his ex with fierce pressure, cupping and squeezing his arse cheeks, his nuts, as he slowly, slowly inched his lips up Bran’s thick length.

  At the very top, where the rim of Bran’s bulbous head pressed to the inside of Ruckus’s lips, he paused. Flicked his tongue at the tiny slit on the tip of Bran’s cock. Lapped at the salty moisture beading there.

  With each rapid swipe of his tongue, Bran groaned and trembled.

  Ruckus didn’t stop. He knew what Bran would soon do, and wanted him to do it.

  Fingers clawed at his head, over his shaven scalp. “Oh God, Rick…”

  Ruckus sucked Bran back into his mouth, plunged down his length, hard, fast, and brutal.

  Bran hissed, slamming his cock upward, driving it deeper into his mouth.

  He drew on it, took it all. His body remembered this so well. His mouth and tongue also. Remembered and missed it, craved it.

  A fire erupted in Ruckus, angry and demanding. A dark hunger he’d forced himself to walk away from a lifetime ago, one that scared him. His lust, his need for Bran’s pleasure, for Bran’s body, seared through him again, encompassing and inescapable.

  And once again, I am lost to him…

  The admission whispered through his mind a heartbeat before he surrendered to the base need ruling him and unleashed his hunger for Bran completely.

  “Yes,” Bran cried out, as he fucked his mouth with his cock. “Yes, yes.”

  Ruckus sucked and bit his flesh. He clawed at his arse and squeezed his balls.

  Bran bucked and shuddered with each punishment, his cries growing louder, thicker with pleasure.