The Huntingtons of McKenna Downs (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Zoey Marcel

  “Quen, please,” he whispered.

  He felt peaceful, woozy, and horny as fuck.

  “What is it you want, baby? Do you want this?”

  The air deserted his lungs when he felt the blazing shaft of Quentin’s dick press against his ass cheek.

  “I need it.”

  “Get into bed.” Quentin helped him up and then turned down the covers.

  Charlie plopped down onto his back, only vaguely surprised that he didn’t protest when the man climbed on top of him. They kissed slowly, tenderly and rolled around between the sheets naked together. Their crotches grew hotter and swelled at the light grinding against each other.

  Quentin went back to stretching Charlie’s anus with his fingers. The scissoring and finger-fucking drove him mad.

  “Roll over,” Quentin murmured against his lips.

  Charlie obeyed. He trembled with anticipation, feeling vulnerable. “This won’t change anything between us, will it? You’ll still see me the same?”

  Quentin mounted him and nestled his dick into Charlie’s crack. “You will always be a man in my eyes, Charlie.”

  His eyes closed as Quentin nuzzled him.

  Slight pressure became “Dear god, what is that back there” when Quentin’s glans nudged Charlie’s pucker. The man had done a decent job of stretching him, but he was hung like a horse. Light shoves and steady tunneling gradually worked Quentin’s beast of a pecker deeper into him.

  “Breathe, baby,” Quentin lulled. “I’m about to go deeper and it’s going to hurt.”

  “I can handle pain.”

  The broad head of Quen’s cock drove forward, sending the fleshy monster plunging into his tight depths.

  “Jesus!” Charlie gritted his teeth. “Are you in all the way yet?”

  Quentin pushed forward and his dick sank all the way in. “Now I am.”

  Charlie moaned at the way the man’s hot, rigid flesh grazed his prostate. The coarse thatch of pubic hair was titillating, and he relished the feel of Quentin’s scrotum resting against his ass.

  Both men were covered in sweat. Quentin’s heady grunting and masculine growls while he thrust into him slowly sent overwhelming swells of heat through Charlie. He went breathless. The cool crispness of linen humping his swollen groin, the erotic feel of pre-cum seeping onto the clean sheets with abandon, the incomparable sensation of strength and heat lying on top of him, pinning him down and fucking possessively into his unclaimed ass—it all had him in an achy trance.

  There was something about bottoming for a man that could be just as rapturous as topping a woman.

  Quentin didn’t even have to reach under him to fondle his junk. The wicked sheets and the sensational storm overpowering him were enough.

  “God, Quen. I’m gonna come.”

  Quentin stopped thrusting. “Ask first.”

  Charlie nearly went blind from the submissive pleasure the words brought. In the back of his mind, he worried that things would change between them.

  “Please.”

  “Please what?”

  His eyes clamped shut. He didn’t want to say it, but he was too inflamed to care. Submitting to Quentin sexually would likely put him under the town curse the same as it would with a woman. Giving someone that kind of power over him scared him, probably the way it had for Kendall with him. Maybe he should have been more sympathetic to her.

  He did her one better. He treated Quentin the way he wished she’d treated him. He’d rather be Quen’s bitch than king without him anyway.

  “Please, Sir.”

  “Just Quentin, Charlie. You’re not a submissive.”

  Sweet relief met with the man’s insistent thrusts in his ass and Charlie cried out as he came. He’d never come so hard with a man before. He couldn’t stop moaning at the delicious spasms in his penis and the hot flow of his semen pulsing out of his cock and all over his belly. He couldn’t help crying out at the frantic way his ass clung hard to the man’s dick buried balls-deep inside him.

  Quentin’s hard jabs into his quaking ass summoned the man’s own orgasm. His harsh bellows sounded so erotic as he shot off inside of him. Charlie moaned, absorbing the shocking pleasure and discomfort of the dominating thrusts. It was disgusting in the best of ways to feel his own spunk smearing all over his body.

  The sizzling jets of Quentin’s cum spilling into him about made him pass out in delight. They lay there a while in a pile of shivers and perspiration, panting and pulsing in the aftermath.

  “Goddamn,” Charlie breathed.

  Quentin laughed and kissed his temple. “You know that could be taken one of two ways.”

  “You know exactly how I meant it.”

  They nuzzled one another for a minute in silence.

  “I love you, Quen.”

  “I love you back.”

  Charlie had never known a sweeter moment with him. He felt safe.

  * * * *

  He didn’t feel safe. The next day, Charlie avoided Quentin like the plague. Some serious shit was said last night. Some emasculating pleading and effeminate whimpering and butt-surrendering had gone on.

  Charlie spent some time walking through the empty building that he’d bought in town. Not that Kendall was ever coming back, but if she did...because it would have to be her that did the groveling. It sure as hell wasn’t gonna be him.

  He’d done enough begging last night with Quen.

  Speak of the devil. Quentin stood there watching him.

  Charlie tried to act natural. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to make sure you were all right.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve had sex before.”

  Quentin’s face radiated with naughtiness. “How is your ass?”

  Charlie felt himself blush. He’d never blushed before. “It’s fine. Thanks for asking.”

  Quentin smiled and tossed him a water bottle.

  Charlie stiffened. “What the hell is this?”

  “I assume you know what water is.”

  “I know what it is. What did you bring it to me for?”

  “I thought you might be thirsty.”

  “Thanks.”

  That had better be all.

  Quentin approached him while Charlie drank. Caring warmth filled the man’s eyes and his demeanor became nurturing, seriously threatening. He ran his fingers through Charlie’s hair as he silently admired him.

  Charlie stepped back and put his hand up. “I don’t need aftercare or pampering. I’m not in subdrop.”

  Mischief tugged at Quentin’s lips. “I didn’t say you were. Are you feeling vulnerable today, Charlie?”

  “Fuck you.” Charlie gave him his back and walked across the room. “Just because I gave my pussy up to you it doesn’t make you my Dom.”

  “Your what?”

  He grimaced. “My ass.”

  Quentin stepped forward. “My view of you hasn’t changed. You’re as masculine to me as you ever were, and I don’t want to ever hear you refer to your or any man’s ass as a pussy ever again.”

  “I’m not your sub.”

  “No. You’re my partner, and I’m asking you to respect me and yourself by not using that word in reference to men again. Say you won’t.”

  Charlie looked the other way. “Fine, I won’t.”

  “I told you I had no intention of being your Dom when you’re not submissive. You enjoy topping women and bottoming for me. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “You had me ask for permission to come last night.”

  “Because I knew it would arouse you. When you called me Sir I corrected you, didn’t I?”

  He nodded.

  “Penetrating your ass was never about dominating you and showing you who the man was, Charlie. We’re both men. All I wanted was for you to let me in and give me something you had never shared with anyone before.” Quentin came closer until he stood in front of him. “I wanted to possess you because I love you. When I top you, it turns us both on. It doesn’t ch
ange anything between us. I still respect you immensely, even more so now for giving yourself to me and trusting me with that.”

  Charlie felt a soulful tug in his chest when he looked the other man in the eye. “It meant something to me, too. It’s just, some of the stuff I felt last night...it was like you controlled me from the inside out. I felt hypnotized, powerless, and I loved it.”

  “Shh.” Quentin put his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “What does it matter if you went into headspace last night or not? It doesn’t make you my submissive. If you bottom for me and go into subspace, it doesn’t make you a sub any more than gnawing on a tree makes you a beaver.”

  Charlie shot a quizzical glance at him and both men laughed.

  “My point is, it’s just not who you are. We’re equals and you bottom for me. That’s all. I haven’t told anyone that you did so, and I won’t.”

  He gave the man an annoyed smile. “Quen, you don’t have to say anything. They take one look at you and they’ll know that you’re the top.”

  Quentin grinned. “You said it, not me.”

  They shared a kiss.

  “You know what else doesn’t make you less of a man?” he asked with a sly smile.

  “What’s that?”

  “Marrying me,” Quentin said.

  “That sounds like you’re proposing to me again.”

  “Nothing gets past you.”

  Charlie grinned. “Yeah, I’ll marry you.”

  Quentin placed his hand at the base of Charlie’s skull, becoming serious. “Even if Kendall does return, we can share her, but legally I want you married to me. I’ve waited longer for you.”

  Charlie pawed at his chest. “I’m marrying you because I want to, not because you told me to.”

  Smirking, Quentin pulled him into a kiss. After a moment of sweet indulgence, his best friend surveyed their surroundings. “What are you doing in this place?”

  “Well, call me crazy, but I bought it for Kendall.” Charlie kicked some junk aside with his boot. “I figured I’d fix it up for her if she ever decides to come back. Not that she will.”

  “Was it so she could open up her own clothing store here in town?”

  “Yeah.”

  Quentin approached him and ensconced him in big, strong arms. “That was very thoughtful of you.”

  “She’s never coming back, is she?”

  The man held him closer. “She might. You could go to New York to find her.”

  “Fuck that. I don’t know where she is, and even if I did, she’s the one who left. She should do the groveling.”

  Charlie wandered around the room, giving Quentin his attention when he said his name.

  “Before we wed and exchange rings, you should know that there’s a chance the curse applies to men as well.”

  He was blown away that his best friend didn’t try to hide that fact or trick him into marriage. Quen was honest with him...the way Charlie knew he should have been with Kendall. Maybe then she would have stayed with him.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Quentin appeared moved, awestruck. “And you were going to marry me anyway, even though staying gives me tremendous power over you?”

  “Quen, you already have the ultimate power over me because I love you. It’s not like I’m going anywhere. I could never leave you.”

  Quentin strode swiftly toward him and then yanked him into a sappy hug.

  Charlie clung to him and buried his face in Quentin’s neck. “Don’t you leave me, too. I can’t lose you.”

  Quentin’s hand ran up Charlie’s nape, fingers splaying in his hair. “I will never leave you, Charlie. I promise.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Two months later – New York City

  When Kendall opened her apartment door that night after the knock, she shrieked and staggered backward when she saw the Emo person standing there. The young woman was the spitting image of her deceased friend, Amelia.

  “Who are you?” Kendall asked shakily. She didn’t believe in ghosts, but what the ever-living fuck was this?

  “I’m your friend, Amelia.”

  She shook her head rapidly. “That’s not possible. You’re dead.”

  “I’ll explain.” Amelia followed the request up with entering her apartment without an invitation.

  Kendall shut and locked the door, heart speeding like hell. “What’s going on? How are you still alive? I thought you were killed.”

  She fumbled to give her friend a hug, still dumbstruck and baffled.

  After a long embrace, Amelia pulled back. “I faked my death.”

  “What? Why would you do that? I was heartbroken over losing you.”

  “I know. It was so sweet.” Amelia caressed her cheek a little too intimately, though she’d done that before. “I wanted to see how you would mourn me. I know someone at the morgue. I paid a few people and set the whole thing up. It was pretty clever. I got to see what the world would be like without me, what you would be like when I was gone.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you? You ripped the hearts of your family and friends out? How could you?”

  “How could you date people?” Amelia glowered at her coldly before stepping closer. “But both your boyfriends after Charlie were Emo. I knew you loved me when I saw that. You missed me.”

  “What?” Kendall stumbled backward when Amelia tried to kiss her. “Whoa! I don’t think of you that way. I only dated two Emo guys because they were completely different than Charlie. I was trying to forget him.”

  Amelia’s air became hostile. “Don’t mention that pig man’s name in my presence. We’re perfect for each other. I used to watch you sleep sometimes when we were roommates. This one time your breast was showing out of your nightie and I touched it. Your nipple got hard. You liked it.”

  Kendall freaked and backed way again when Amelia reached for her. “You touched me in my sleep? That’s sick!”

  “You loved it. You think a man going down on you is good? You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

  “Amelia, you’re a nice girl and I like you, but I don’t feel that way for you.”

  “You left those men because deep down, you wish they were me.” Amelia cupped her cheeks. “Don’t deny it.”

  “I think you need to leave. You’re really freaking me out.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with women loving each other.”

  “I know that, but I don’t love you.”

  “You will.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m in love with someone else.”

  Amelia scoffed and let go of her. “Multiple people. That isn’t love. You’re confused. You don’t know what you want.”

  “I love them.”

  “Then why aren’t you with them?”

  Good question.

  Kendall didn’t answer. “Please go.”

  “I can’t.”

  “I want you to. I’m glad you’re alive, but you’re twisted and I want you to leave.”

  “I can’t live without you.” Amelia grabbed her breast. “Just let me show you.”

  “Enough!” Kendall shoved her, regretting it when Amelia fell over. “I’m sorry.”

  Amelia smacked her reaching hand away and jumped up, storming into the kitchen.

  “Amelia, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. You’re a good catch. You’ll meet a nice woman and be glad you didn’t settle for me.”

  “I want you!”

  Kendall’s eyes bugged out and her stomach dropped in terror when Amelia grabbed a butcher knife. “Amelia, put that down.”

  “You can’t live without me, either.” Amelia stalked toward her as Kendall backed away slowly.

  “Amelia, stop. Just put that down and we’ll talk.”

  “It’s love. You’re just in denial because I’m a woman. No man can satisfy you. It’s why you always leave them and drown yourself in your career. You want me. Admit it. Say it!” Amelia turned somehow paler and screamed at something she saw over Kendall’s shoulder.

&nbs
p; Kendall glanced back and saw a man she didn’t know standing there with a gun. He wore a gray suit beneath a long coat, a fedora, and a black mask, so determining his age and identity was a bitch.

  “Hello, Amelia,” the man greeted her in a British accent. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “Hessian, I really was going to pay you the other half,” Amelia stammered. “I just have to get it.”

  Hessian gave her an incredulous nod. “Is that why you fled South Dakota? You know if you shortchange me on my payment, I do a half-assed job? René, Quentin, and Charlie are still alive and will remain so until you pay me the other half of the money you owe me.”

  Kendall gaped at this. “You hired a hit-man to kill my men?”

  “It was for love!” Amelia yelled. “Stop calling them your men.”

  “Put the knife down before I kill you both,” Hessian calmly ordered.

  Amelia set the knife on the floor.

  “Kick it away from you into the kitchen.”

  She obeyed.

  “You never had any intention of paying me the other half,” he accused. “Do you know what I do to people who steal from me?”

  “Hessian, please. Just give me time and I’ll pay you.”

  “I steal their life from them. It’s rather fitting, isn’t it?”

  Amelia wept. “Please.”

  Hessian shot her.

  Kendall screamed into her hands. No loud bang followed. The gun probably had a silencer on it.

  “On your knees,” he commanded.

  She dropped to her knees, frozen with horror when she saw her fallen friend and Hessian approaching with the gun.

  “Please don’t kill me. I won’t report you. I swear.”

  “Of course you will. I would expect no less from you.” He stood near her with the gun pointed at her, but not close enough to grab it from him. “I have no need to kill you since I’m not being paid to and you haven’t pissed me off or fascinated me in any way. You’re above average in looks, to be sure, but you’re hardly complex. You wouldn’t ever become like me, or let circumstances shape you into a haunted creature with a thrilling psyche for me to dissect.”

  The seconds felt like hours. Why didn’t he just shoot her if he was going to? Why toy with her like a sadistic cat with a mouse?