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Her Billionaires: Boxed Set (The Complete Collection, Books 1-4)

Page 16

by Kent, Julia


  “You haven’t?” His voice carried a sweet, incredulous tone. Her breath disappeared as he traced a lazy circle at the hollow of her throat. This was less an invitation and more a requirement.

  “No, I mean—you two know each other?” Duh, Laura. Of course they did. “How do you...but I’ve been dating you both!”

  “We know,” they said in unison.

  Their chuckles made her even wetter, if that were possible. Mike looked up and caught her eye, one eyebrow cocked.

  Cold blood flooded every cell of her body. This was a set up? Dylan and Mike not only knew that she’d been dating the other but they were some sort of item?

  And they wanted a threesome with her? Go with it, her heart said. Maybe that wasn’t her heart. Something much lower on her body swelled and pulsated, eager for her showerhead fantasies to come to life with flesh.

  She liked it. Laura stared impolitely at Dylan’s chest, eyed him up and down, and then turned back to Mike. Staring deep into Mike’s eyes, she squinted and sighed in torment.

  “Is this really what you want?” Please say yes, she thought.

  Dylan groaned. “I vote yes!” he purred. His eyes were burning for her.

  “Mike?” she asked. He licked her hip, rubbing his nose on the soft flesh where her belly and thigh met, the nuzzle somehow both playful and sensual.

  “I’d say that’s a yes,” she moaned. A drunk feeling enveloped her. Dylan’s tan, muscled hands undid his jeans. Meanwhile, Mike resumed his activities. She closed her eyes. Her ears heard Dylan’s jeans hit the floor. God, how she loved his ass. Her nipples tightened.

  Two more hands roamed over her skin. She shivered, a sharp inhale and a wetness making her nearly cum. The tongue Mike flicked drove all thought away. She couldn’t breathe now, was just a mass of nerve endings and goo.

  Imagining Dylan’s cock in her at the same time as Mike’s made her moan and tweak her own nipple. A strong hand pushed it away.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” Dylan’s voice cajoled. “That’s my job.”

  She felt Mike’s chuckle on her clit as he drove her crazy, soft tongue teasing her skin, bringing her so achingly close. Sliding her hand on Dylan’s skin while the other buried itself in Mike’s hair, Laura feared she would come this second. They were too much, together, but oh, God, how good it was.

  The scent of both men mixed with hers, like the ocean at sunrise. Man and nothing but. She needed to taste them, and she pulled Dylan to her. Her tongue poked out and licked his arm.

  “Don’t waste that tongue there, Babe,” Dylan murmured.

  And just then, Laura lost control. Mike moved up to kiss her. He was the gentle savior, always tender and sweet. Oh, how her clit craved attention. Four hands, two men, and she was still ravenous.

  “Oh, please, more!” she begged. One hand found her clit and she bucked against it, eager for release. Mike’s mouth grazed against her ear. She shivered, making her wetter. Dylan’s other hand traveled up to her breasts, pinching as he rubbed her, keeping her orgasm at the ready, her hips bucking to find a rhythm for release.

  “You have the most luscious body,” Mike groaned.

  Laura wanted to believe it. Years of being teased for her curves had toughened her but now she found her true partners. All the insecurities she felt, every worry, roared into her mind, and then Dylan sidled up to her face, giving her a gentle kiss.

  “Laura, I’ve wanted you for so long,” he said. “We have.” The hand on her clit, their words, all sent her over the edge, her cries a prayer as she came. Dylan held her, strong arms feeling the waves as she trembled and twitched, a flood of intensity making her head explode.

  She batted at Mike’s hand, which still strummed her, the orgasm released, and she lay panting, with two naked, gorgeous men staring at her.

  Oh, shit, she thought. Now what? She was so spent already, Laura didn’t know what to do next. Two hot men were in her bed. She was about to have her first threesome. And all she could do was stare back.

  “Ready for round two?” Dylan asked, as Mike took her hand and placed it on his rock-hard cock.

  She slid her hand from the base to the tip as Dylan pressed her shoulder lightly, Mike moving to the side of the bed. She felt a small drop of pre-cum on Mike’s rigid cock, and the fluid made it easier to stroke him, Mike’s knees buckling as she groaned.

  Meanwhile, Dylan climbed on top of her, his cock soon in her face, and as she took him in her lips she felt two fingers slide inside her soaking pussy. Not what she expected, so soon, and yet her body surprised her with a deep, abdominal muscle clench and a groan that made her vibrate against Dylan’s cock, making him groan and he pushed against her, riding her mouth.

  As she deep throated him, she focused on giving Mike attention, too. What were the chances she’d found two incredible men like this, hot for her, the girl who was teased when it came to romance? She knew they weren’t lying; she could tell by how they touched her. She relaxed. It made this moment so much more precious, for they appreciated her for who she was.

  Dylan stiffened and she knew he was about to cum. She wanted both of them in her, though. Was she crazy? The guys weren’t touching each other.

  “Oh, no!” Dylan shouted, pulling out of her mouth. “No, not like this,” he begged, glancing at Mike.

  Mike nodded. His hand stopped on her clit, making her cry out. “Oh, Laura, this is going to be so fun,” he said, sliding up her body, caressing her, as Dylan walked over to the couch.

  Filled with a new sense of confidence, Laura stood and ran her hands over her breasts. “Ah, Mike, the question is: Can you both satisfy me?” The question emboldened her and turned up the heat a notch, both men puffing out and elongating at her words, their hands and bodies larger and warmer, the air tingling with suspense.

  His rough hands claimed her, the force shocking her, the crush of his lips an answer. Dylan pulled them apart gently, cocky and ready, as Mike sat down on the couch. Now Dylan kissed her, exploring and teasing, making her wet and eager for what was next.

  Dylan nudged her to sit on Mike’s hot, rigid cock; it was time, finally. Sliding down his pole, she straddled him as her pussy walls clenched and held on, Dylan bending her over just enough to make what came next possible.

  A slick sensation hit her backside, Dylan getting her ready. His mouth was on her ass, shocking her, the sensation new and aching. Never before had she let her mind go there, the taboo so great that unless she read about rimming in a magazine or story she didn’t consider it, pushing it out of her mind like so many other forbidden pleasures. It felt so good, yet seemed slightly wrong.

  Right here, right now, though, it felt sooooo right. Her pussy tightened, making Mike groan, and Dylan slipped one finger past her sphincter.

  “Ah!” she cried out. Mike was more than enough, but she needed Dylan, too. Dylan poured lube on her ass, then another finger slipped in, both fingers stretching her, soon replaced with the tip of his cock. Meanwhile, Mike kissed her breasts, his hips keeping a slow rhythm, building a slow climax.

  Now, oh! pain filled her, Dylan bracing himself behind her, the breach of her anus too much, to the point where she almost said “no!”

  It pushed every boundary, unsure of herself, until Dylan leaned over and whispered, “Relax.”

  Oh, how she did. That was part of the surprise and delight. Knowing they treasured her, Laura reveled in defying convention, creating a world where Dylan’s hands were a sacrament. Both filled her completely, Mike’s slick sweat against her as friction inside made her slippery and hot, all three breaths like a symphony, the sound a special music just for her.

  Dylan’s calloused hand took her nipple, his jaw tight and ready for more. Mike’s eyes were light yet intense, loving her as she felt Dylan’s hands slide over her belly, one hand finally slapping her ass, her groan all he needed to hear.

  Her thighs were drenched as she rode Mike, all self-consciousness gone, and now Laura enjoyed the tactile sensation. She bit Mike’s
lower lip, hard, whispering, “I want you both so much.”

  All flesh and bone and breath.

  Mike lifted his hips up, his fingers—whose fingers?—now circling her clit and ringing her ass. She tipped her head back, leaning on Dylan’s chest, her breasts in the moonlight, body on display, and she felt possessed by herself, unleashed and ready to gush.

  “Oh, God, I’m so close,” Mike groaned, planting a sweet kiss on Laura’s skin. Words escaped her, a sudden thunderclap inside her and she answered with a scream. Both men worked to keep up with her, and although she knew inside she should slow down, she felt something greater than guilt: need.

  Now, the thin membrane between them became the center of her soul, stretching and turning and sliding and tingling until she felt her arms and legs and fingers and toes curl into one little supernova. Shaking, Laura lost all thought, fingers gouging Mike’s chest, slipping on slick sweat, hands scratching and clawing for someone to cling to as the world ended and began all at once inside her core.

  Dylan came next, his hands firm and rough and flexing against her ass, his body shuddering as he came, filling her with a hot wetness, his cock throbbing against her pulsing muscles.

  She had never been so full, Dylan’s cock expanding and meeting a need she never knew she craved. She was pleased with her own boldness. Spent, he leaned against her, making her want just a bit more, as if one wasn’t enough.

  But just then, Mike’s turn came, his eyes unfocused, face tight with concentration, arms bulging as he thrust up, up, into her, making her tighten and realize she had another wave in her to catch. Cool air hit her ass as Dylan pulled away.

  “Come here,” she said, panting.

  “I’m here,” he murmured, moving next to Mike and Laura, licking a trail up her ribs, the sensation so luscious as he took one ripe nipple. Sliding her hands over Mike’s shoulders, she stretched into the sucking, her hips taking in his thick rod, the simultaneous attention so erotic she felt the new orgasm snap.

  She clamped on Mike’s cock at that exact moment, milking him as he thrust up and shouted, “More!” He thrust, then halted, repeating the action, until with one final sigh he finished, leaning back against the couch, eyes closed, chest heaving with exertion.

  Laura’s orgasm sprang to life as if she hadn’t just exploded mere minutes ago, the intensity taking her breath away. Dylan nuzzled her ear from behind and kneaded her breasts, murmuring,“Let it all out.”

  He didn’t need to say it.

  She became someone else—no, she became her, the self-confident woman she remembered and the sexy beast she knew was within. From her core, her entire body clenched and heaved, a plane of orgasm shooting through her. Dylan’s fingers and hands drained every drop from her until she slumped forward, Mike’s hands caressing her back, the tenderness a comfort she didn’t need but welcomed anyhow.

  For now, tenderness wasn’t a surprise; it was a right. Her eyes raked over Dylan’s glistening body as he walked to the bed, stretching on the sheets, arms over his head, muscles taut and strong. He shot Mike a conspirator’s look and the two started laughing.

  A cold flush took over her body. Oh, my God. This was all some sort of game? Were they really tormenting her? Was she the fat girl again, the butt of some awful joke? Had they recorded this, a cruel joke to show on YouTube in a few days, making her a social media pariah? All her self-confidence, all her sensuality drained out of her and she buried her face in her hands, hot tears filling the back of her throat.

  “Oh, no! Laura, we weren’t laughing at you!” Mike picked up on her distress first, rushing to cradle her. How did he know what she was thinking? It was uncanny, but words escaped her again, the pain of what she thought they were doing so great that even if they weren’t, its echo remained.

  Dylan’s hot hands caressed the back of her neck. “We, uh, well.” Dylan hesitated, then blurted out, “we kinda planned all this.”

  “Yeah, I know. When’s the YouPorn video going up?” she asked, now just pissed but also hoping Mike’s arms weren’t part of the joke, that his soothing was real.

  “What? No, no. We planned it because we wanted a threesome with you. We were together, watching for someone like you to appear on that dating site for a long time.” Dylan’s voice seemed so earnest. Here she was, naked and covered in their juices, Dylan and Mike and their luxurious flesh before her, and all she could do was cry.

  “Someone like me?” Hope bloomed. Maybe she had been right all along. The two men exchanged a glance and Mike spoke first.

  “Just like you. Blonde. Perky. Funny as hell. Centered. And with a smoking bod. We’re tired of women who aren’t real, and who don’t have the ability to see beyond convention, outside of judgment, and to just follow their hearts.”

  “So you decided to put me to some sort of test and see if I’d rise to the occasion?” Laura searched frantically for her clothes, her vulnerability like a giant shark bite where her heart should be. Exposed, she felt shame pour out of her like an open vein right here, right now, because how could she go from the exhilaration and attachment of what the three of them had created just moments ago to this all-consuming pit of despair?

  Four eyes watched her, countless pounds of muscle twitching and trembling as she spoke, both men gawking at her like she held their balls in a pair of pliers. Why were they doing this? The mixed signals stymied her. A sick joke? A bet? Some kind of weird competition that ended in threesomes?

  Those same comfortable, flowing clothes that she had loved wearing here tonight when all she had expected was a date with Mike were the bane of her existence as she struggled to throw them on as fast as possible, her foot getting caught in the yards of ample fabric. “God damn it!” she shrieked, nearly falling over.

  “Laura.” Mike climbed out of bed, his naked form stretched out in front of her, her face inches from his crotch as she bent over to untangle herself. Under any other circumstance she would have welcomed the view, but right now his golden flesh just prolonged her agony.

  Kneeling with more grace than she could ever possess in three lifetimes, he grasped her foot tenderly, peeling the stretchy cotton cloth off the toes where it had twisted. Her leg free, she could pull her skirt around her waist and shove her arms through her blouse, then fling her oversized jacket over it, all with Mike staring balefully up from the ground. Those giant blue eyes communicated so many emotions Laura just couldn’t receive right now.

  Run.

  Run away. They’re making fun of you, Laura. The voice sounded like Josie’s. Like her mother’s. Like every person who had pretended to like her but had just been playing a joke on the fat girl.

  Joke was over. She heard Dylan call out her name as she slammed the front door and marched through the dark to her car, the tears spilling over her lashes before she’d made it down the porch steps. She reached into a non-existent pocket for her keys. Keys. Thank God she’d driven here in her own car and could leave, but she couldn’t get out of here if she didn’t have keys.

  Damn! Her purse. It was back in the—

  Creak. The front door opened and Mike’s long, taut arm came through it, her purse dangling from the end, the porch light making the entire production seem like some rejected scene from one of the later Friday the 13th movies. Horror was apt; it’s what she felt right now. Gently, the arm knelt down, resting the purse on the welcome mat. Without a word, he withdrew his limb and the door creaked shut, the glow on her purse like a spotlight of failure.

  Was that some sort of message? Don’t bother coming back in? Like a pilot light pluming as it is first lit, Laura felt a fireball of rage explode in her. She wanted to ram the front door and —

  No. The fury snuffed out fast, leaving a deadly calm inside. Mike did that because it was Mike’s way—quiet, silent. Deliberate. He knew she wanted to leave and he helped. No judgments, no words, no complications.

  What she needed most right now, as she sneaked up the steps and snatched her purse strap, was no complications. No t
houghts, no feelings, no regrets, no nothing.

  Laura stormed back to her car, yanked the door open, piled in and cranked the engine. To her relief, it started fine and off she went, the aroma of sex and Dylan and Mike perfuming the air. Their hands were still imprinted on her, the ache of them inside her stretching and throbbing inside, as if she hadn’t quite readjusted to the lack of their stroking, their kisses, their—

  Don’t think about it. After her first threesome, she was touched out. The next thing to touch her lips better be named chocolate. Or coffee. Or Xanax.

  Hot tears, though, beat them all to it.

  “Her purse? Of all the gestures you could have made, Mike, the one you picked was to put her purse out on the porch for her?” Although he’d stayed in bed while poor Laura had wrapped herself into a knot rushing to put on her clothes, now Dylan leaped out, pacing like a caged animal. His nude form was less appealing than it normally would be as Mike struggled to make sense of the last hour.

  “She needed to be able to leave in peace.”

  “She’s going to think that was some sort of big old ‘fuck you,’ Mike! Like we were telling her to get out.”

  “No.”

  “Yes,” Dylan replied savagely. He grabbed his boxer briefs and dragged them on. Mike heard the popping of stitches and bit back a smirk as Dylan untangled himself from having put both legs in the same hole. As Dylan figured it all out Mike calmly put his own underwear and pants on, desperate to go for a long trail run. Where the hell was his shirt?

  “Where are you going?” Dylan shouted as Mike wandered out of the room in search of his shirt.

  “For a run.” Where was it? He and Laura had been by the bed, and her fingertips had—Oh. Yeah. Turning around, he walked back in to find Dylan shoving his shoes on, glaring at Mike like he’d just ripped his puppy’s head off and eaten it.

  “At midnight? Smelling like—uh, us? Are you trying to be bear bait?”

  Behind the door he found his shirt in a wrinkled heap. His biceps ached as he stretched his arms and slid them into the sleeves. Sore already? He snorted.

 

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