by Tia Fanning
It seemed never-ending.
Jonathan didn’t stop summoning her pleasure until she was begging and pleading for him to cease. While her mind was willing, her body was simply unable to meet his demands any longer, no matter how much she wanted to. He had milked her dry.
Lowering her legs, he pulled her forward into his embrace. Oriana laid her head on his shoulder while he rubbed her back and nuzzled her hair.
“I’ve never a known a woman who gave so much of herself,” Jonathan murmured in her ear. “You are amazing.”
Yeah, she was ‘giving herself’ fairly easily, she thought. Yet, as much as she wanted to regret it, she didn’t. It had felt so right. Just as it had with Jack. And how it would probably feel when she slept with Jordan.
She mentally cringed.
Jesus! What the hell was wrong with her? Yesterday in the arms of one, now in the arms of another, and here she was already planning her next conquest!
“God, I’m a fucking slut,” she muttered.
She was suddenly nudged back.
“What?” Jonathan asked, looking beyond appalled.
Oriana blinked, confused by the astonishment in his eyes, then realized what she’d done.
“I’m sorry,” she said, rubbing the bridge of her nose as if it would somehow wipe away her stupidity. She offered him a small smile. “I was lost in my thoughts and I guessed I answered myself out loud. It was not in response to your compliment—which I thank you for by the way. But truly, you are the one who is amazing, not me.”
“But what did you say?”
“Oh, nothing. I was just scolding myself, you know, for being…” she searched for an appropriate word that would be less jarring. Whore? Tramp? Hussy?
Oh hell, why bother candy-coating. This was Jonathan.
“I said, ‘God, I’m a fucking slut’—”
“You said what?”
Jonathan’s somber gaze flicked past her, but Oriana didn’t have to follow it to know who’d spoken. She’d recognize that controlled, yet ominous, tone anywhere.
Closing her eyes, she tried to ward off the sweeping sense of doom that twisted her stomach and caused heart to thump hard in her chest. After all, she was an adult and could say whatever she wanted. Unfortunately, the reminder did little to quell the overwhelming apprehension she felt—an almost childlike anxiety that made her want curl up in Jonathan’s arms and hide from Jack’s displeasure.
She exhaled heavily. “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”
“Ori, why in the world would you ever describe yourself that way?” Jonathan chided as he gently lifted her off the island and set her on her feet. “You are beautiful, and sexy, and absolutely perfect in every way, and—”
Jack pulled her away from Jonathan and bent her over the island.
Jordan entered the room and rushed over, protesting.
Confused, Oriana stared at the hard surface just a few inches below her face. It took a few moments for her to register what exactly was going on—her new position, Jack’s large palm pressed firmly on her back, Jordan explaining to him that she had not healed fully from her fall yet…
Her mind finally connected the dots.
Jack intended to spank her.
Ah, hell.
Was she going to let him? Could she even stop him if she wanted to?
Fuck. Probably not.
The whole situation seemed so surreal that even her feelings about it were distant and subdued. Under the weight of “is this really happening?” shock, her muted emotions left her with a sense of calm acceptance.
But that was not a bad thing. At least she didn’t think so. She trusted them.
The discussion behind her grew more heated. She cranked her head and looked over her shoulder. The two younger brothers continued to argue while Jack listened without comment.
“It’s for the best,” Jonathan reasoned. “Ori needs to know what to expect should she decide to stay with us—what we will and will not tolerate. True, after this, she might never want to see us again, but it’s better to figure this out before things get any more serious between us.”
Jordan shook his head. “I know you love her, but she’s clearly not up to this—and I’m not talking about having to endure a behavioral modification. I’m talking about us. If what we’re doing is making her feel less worthy as a person, then maybe the best thing we can do for her is let her go.”
Jordan’s words, while meant to be noble, stabbed at her chest painfully, and suddenly what was once muted became extremely vivid.
“No. Don’t.”
The guys fell silent and turned.
“Don’t what?” Jordan asked.
The conversation she’d had with Jack about her candor and her lack of shame when it came to him floated through her mind, and she almost smiled at the irony. Because the reply she was about to give to would have never, ever left her lips before she met these men. Never. It would have seemed too much like begging, too desperate, and her pride would have never let her utter something so humiliating to any man.
“Don’t let me go. Don’t give up on me so easily. Don’t… Don’t break my heart like that.”
There, she said it, as cheesy as it may have sounded.
They guys stared at her, then glanced at each other in what seemed like a silent discussion. Jack removed his palm and pulled her back to her feet. Wrapping his hands around her waist, like she weighed nothing, sat her back on the island’s edge.
Rather than face the three of them, Oriana fastened her eyes on her fingers as they agitated the hem of her shirt.
“Look at us, Ori,” Jonathan commanded softly.
She peeked up at the tall wall before her, her cheeks growing warm.
“Tell us why you said what you said.”
And like that, warm became scalding. How did one explain such a thing?
“I, um, well… I slept with Jack yesterday and let you, um…pleasure me today.”
“Why do you feel guilty about finding pleasure with two men you desire who also desire you?”
“That’s the problem. I don’t feel guilty—but I should feel guilty. I feel guilty for not feeling guilty.”
“Jonathan scrubbed his face with his hand. “Okay, Ori. So you feel guilty about not feeling guilty about being with two men because?”
“It’s wrong.”
“Why?”
“Because this goes beyond having one man, then choosing another. Don’t you see?”
She took the blank stares she was receiving as an indication that they didn’t.
“Look, Jonathan. Last night, you and Jordan said you didn’t mind that I’d been with Jack, and this morning you told me Jack doesn’t care if you seduce me or not. Perhaps this ‘let the best man win’ mentality works for you all, but that just it… There is no best man. There never will be.”
Oriana lowered her gaze back to her lap and her fidgeting fingers. She knew they wanted her to face them when she confessed, but she just couldn’t do. Just couldn’t. Hell, when had she become such a coward?
“First I betrayed Jack by being with you. I should feel bad, but I don’t. I loved being with you. But, Jonathan—God, this is almost too horrible to admit—I’ll end up betraying you too. If Jack came to me again, I wouldn’t deny him. And worse, the two of you are not enough. I also want to be with Jordan. What does that make me if not a slut?”
“Oriana,” Jack said softly, capturing her attention. His impassive expression and low tone contradicted the fury she read in his hard eyes. “This is your last warning. Do not make that comparison again. Understand?”
That independent part of her wanted to defy his high-handed command, to call herself a ‘slut’ and every related adjective she knew just to prove to Jack that he didn’t have as much power over her as he’d like to believe. The woman inside, however, just wanted to burst into tears at the gentle rebuke. She wanted him to be pleased with her. She wanted to please him.
Did his approval really mean that much to her
?
Jack must have sensed her warring defiance, because his glare intensified despite the neutrality of his expression.
“Do you understand, Oriana?”
Though his tone remained low, calm, the faint inflection indicated that he wasn’t going to let up until she gave him a proper verbal response. Did he really care that much? Or was he just being an overbearing brute?
Jack’s image blurred behind the veil of gathering tears and she bit her lip, her pride not wanting to concede, but her heart begging her to make things better. His disapproval actually hurt her feelings.
Are you always this honest and compliant?
Honest, always, compliant, never—not anymore. But for you, I’ll be both.
Her vision cleared as the silent drops slipped down her cheeks. “Okay,” she whispered.
“Great, Jack. You made her cry,” Jordan grumbled.
Jack gaze didn’t waver from hers. “Oriana needs to realize that we would never allow anyone to hurt her or disrespect her. She must understand that we will do whatever is necessary to protect her. Even from herself, if we must.”
So he cared that much?
Overcome by the significance of his declaration, she bowed her head and closed her eyes tight, then placed her hand over her mouth, hoping to contain the rush of emotion. But other than to mute her wretched gasping, her hand had little effect. Tears rapidly leaked out while her shoulders shook and her chest squeezed painfully.
Moments later, she felt the air shift, felt the warm strength of his presence, felt the gentle brushing of his fingers as they carefully swept back her hair.
“Come here,” Jack murmured, gathering her close and tucking her head under his chin.
She melted into him, crying into his chest while he rubbed her back. She rarely broke into waterworks, and even rarer for her to do it in front of witnesses. But since meeting these men, everything felt so much more intense, and right now, she was feeling very distraught.
“I-I’m sorry,” she choked out. “Please don’t be mad at me.”
Jack’s chest rose beneath her head and then fell as he expelled his breath into her hair. He nudged her back. With both his hands cupping her face, he stared at her thoughtfully, wiping the moisture on her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.
“I’m not as good at this emotional stuff as Jon is,” he said gruffly. “But I want you to know that this is not a game to us. We truly care about you. Too much for us to play with you or your emotions in that way. Do you believe me?”
Sniffling, she nodded, dislodging welled tears that he caught as they spilled over.
“Then you will believe me when I say that you didn’t betray me, Jon, or Jordan by engaging the other. There is no nothing you need to feel guilty about concerning us in that matter. There is no need for you to choose between us. If anything, we’d prefer you didn’t. Do you understand what I mean when I say this?”
Oriana nodded again, secretly hoping beyond hope that she understood exactly what he meant.
“Having clarified that,” he continued, “I now need you to assure me that you’re okay with this situation. I want you to be completely honest. If you’re not comfortable with this type of relationship, say so now. Your comfort is more important to us than anything that may or may not happen. We want you to want this, not participate because you feel obligated to or because you’re too scared to say no.”
She was going to nod her affirmative, but he held her head in place.
“Let me hear you say the words.”
“I’m okay with this,” she whispered. “I want this.”
“If at some point you come to realize you feel differently, we want you to tell us immediately. We will not hold it against you if you change your mind. Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“Now, let us discuss the self-depreciating comment. Is it safe to assume that you’ve been harboring this thought for a couple of days, and had the slip not occurred, you would still be feeling this way? You would have never brought it to our attention of your own accord, right?”
“Yes,” she said softly.
Jack’s lips thinned, Jonathan cleared his throat quietly, and Jordan glanced away.
“Did I say something wrong again?” Frustration watered her eyes. Damn her tongue.
“No, Oriana, you didn’t.” Jack said. “You are being honest, which is what we want. We only ask that, in the future, you will please share your thoughts and feelings, especially your concerns or fears, as they come to you, not three days later. Had you told to us how you felt earlier, we could have addressed your concern before it evolved into personal disparagement, which is something we find unacceptable.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s over and done with. But it’s not to happen again, Oriana. From now on, you’ll be your usual forthcoming, candid self in all things, and you will let us know if there is even a hint of self-doubt. We expect complete honesty and openness from you. Understand?”
“I understand.”
Jack leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “Good.”
On that pronouncement, he walked away. She watched him leave, a little overwhelmed by everything he’d said. But before she could think more on it, Jordan came up, claiming her attention.
“I’m sorry we failed you,” he said, tugging a lock of her hair in some half-hearted gesture of affection. Then Jordan retreated, following the path Jack had taken.
She stared after him as well, confused all to hell. “Failed me?”
Hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her from the island. “I’m sorry too, Ori. I didn’t realize… Please tell us next time.”
Oriana looked up at Jonathan. “I have no frigging idea what the hell just happened. Why are you apologizing? I should be the one apologizing. I’m the one who was in the wrong. God, I’m so sorry, Jonathan. I’m sure it must have been like slap in your face. You gave me such wonderful…and then I ruin it.”
“Ultimately, it was our failure. We should have known how you felt before now. We could have at least asked.”
He smoothed the shirt over her shoulders. “And Jack doesn’t blame you. Had that been the case, you would have been spanked regardless of Jordan’s objections. I should have told you the house rules about honesty, made sure you understood how important it is that you alert us to these kinds of things, and…” A sad smile touched his lips. “And I should have been more reassuring.”
Dammit, she was going to cry again. “Jon—”
He laid a single finger over her lips. “Just know that you can come to me with anything. Always. No matter what you tell me, it will not change how I feel. I love you. Nothing can change that.”
Oriana folded her hand over his and pulled it from her mouth.
“Really? You love me?”
“I think I fell in love the moment I found you sleeping in my bed.”
Taking her chin and tilting it up, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. His kiss was slow, languid, deep, and filled with promises—both erotic and heartfelt. Everlasting. She categorized every sensation, impressing it to her memory so she’d never forget this magical moment. She inhaled his scent of sunshine and citrus, savored his taste and her essence, the way his tongue caressed hers, the warm texture of his mouth. It seemed the kiss would never end, and she didn’t want it to.
Finally, he drew back slightly. “Perhaps we should revisit the bed that introduced us,” he breathed against her lips.
Upon her dazed nod, he smiled and swept her up into his arms. “Close your eyes, my love.”
Doing as he bade, her other senses honed in on her surroundings to compensate for the loss of sight. She registered his warmth, his steady strength, and the flow of the air brushing against her exposed skin as he carried her. Her ears perked at the faint click of a door closing behind them. The sensation of being lowered followed and supple fabric met her bottom. He pulled her shirt up and off as he guided her to lay back. A faint tropical
perfume enveloped her body as Jonathan tenderly released his hold and her weight relaxed into the cushioned softness.
She felt him move away.
Quiet moments passed, and she sensed something was changing around her. It grew heavy, still, a feeling of expectation descended—a muted whoosh marred the silence. Instantly, a warm, gentle breeze blew and the scent of coconut floated by, sharing the current with the hum of swaying palm trees and romantic music.
Oriana dwelled in her self-imposed darkness as long as she could, not wanting to break the romantic spell he wove around them, but curiosity finally got the best of her.
She slowly opened her eyes.
Instead of the sunshine-bright cheeriness she was accustomed to, she found Jonathan’s bedroom cast in shadow, illuminated only by the flickering flames of aromatic candles. Disoriented, she rose up on her elbows. The virtual window showcased a beautiful deserted beach absorbed in the dusky hues of sunset—a scene made even more realistic by the dancing curtains that moved to and fro in the sultry tropical breeze.
Paradise at twilight.
The visual in combination with the surrounding scents and sounds was a feast for the senses. If she didn’t know better, she would think his room was located inside a beachfront condo in Hawaii rather than a cabin-in-a-cave in Alaska.
“Naughty girl,” Jonathan murmured as joined her on the bed, his hard, naked body pressing its heat into hers. “Did I say you could open your eyes?”
She gazed up at him in awe. “How did you do this?”
He smiled as his finger meandered across her chest. “A magician never reveals his tricks.”
Lowering his head, his lips followed the path his finger had traced. Oriana’s breath grew ragged as he sucked and flicked an aching nipple with his tongue. His hand cupped her other breast, gently kneading it and plying the nipple with firm strokes from his thumb.
To her surprise, Jonathan’s sinful mouth and wicked fingers hadn’t completely emptied her during breakfast. Her core tingled and slick moisture coated her swollen folds, her body eagerly preparing her for the promise of carnal delights.
