“You think I could hurt you?” He sounded stunned and…hurt by her assumption. “Me and not Nick or Zane?”
Guilt sluiced through her. Ryder must get that a lot, people assuming he was dangerous because of the way he looked. “I don’t know what to make of you,” she said honestly. “There’s a hidden part of you that I’ve glimpsed on a few occasions. I know you were the one who came into my bedroom in the middle of the night to pull the blanket over my legs. I thought it was sweet of you, but when you get upset and yell at me, I’m not sure what to expect.”
He stared at her in silence for a few seconds. “You don’t know my brothers all that well, yet you didn’t think they would hurt you.”
Evie shrugged. “Nick and Zane are always friendly toward me. They didn’t go to prison because of my father. You did.” Was it possible for him to overlook her parentage to see her for who she was? Evie, the woman who was willing to lose her heart to him.
Ryder cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “I never blamed you for what your father did.” He ran a hand along his jaw. “What Herb did to me was a perfect excuse for me to get close to you.”
“Why?” Did he remember her from all those years ago in the law office?
He touched her cheek softly with his big hand. Evie leaned into him, savoring his rare tenderness. “Because you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen that day when I stopped by Walker’s law firm. It angered me that I’d never get a chance with you.” He bent to kiss her lips. “I’m sorry, princess. I shouldn’t have been so harsh with you. It makes me feel like shit knowing you think I could physically hurt you. I could never—would never do that to you.”
“What about my heart, Ryder? How am I supposed to cope when the three of you decide you no longer want me around?”
“That’s not going to happen,” he rasped, lifting his cock to her mouth. “You belong to us and we’re not letting you leave us. Ever.”
Evie licked the crown of his cock. “The four us?”
“The four of us,” Ryder repeated.
Her heart leapt and she parted her lips, drawing his shaft deep inside her mouth. Evie felt his hands on her head gently stroking her hair, his rough voice encouraging her to take him to the back of her throat. “Princess, I think you’re the sexiest woman alive with a cock between your lips. I almost came last night watching the way you were latched on to Nick’s cock. I knew you loved it.”
Evie rocked slowly back and forth on her heels. Her pussy throbbed, urging her to give all her attention to Ryder. She couldn’t speak though, not when she had his delicious cock to focus on. Ryder held her head; his massive cock paused at the walls of her throat. He stroked her hair, simply holding her to him, their gazes locked with neither of them moving.
“Are you thirsty?”
Evie blinked and nodded the best she could, considering how tight he was holding her hair. “Do you want my cum, princess?”
In answer Evie locked her arms around his waist, smoothing her hands on his firm ass. Please.
Ryder placed his cool fingers on her throat, caressing her skin. His other hand fisted a lock of hair on her nape and without warning he thrust into her mouth with a hedonistic groan, and coated the back of her throat with his cum. With her knees quivering, Evie swallowed, taking every single drop.
Ryder slid his cock from her mouth. “Sit with me.” He pulled her up from the floor, seating her on his lap facing him. ”
Evie smiled. “You guys really don’t mind sharing me. It doesn’t bother you to see me fucking Nick and Zane or sucking their cocks?”
Ryder kissed her cheek. “No. Why should it? Your pussy feels wonderful, princess, and you’re the best cocksucker. I wouldn’t want anyone telling me I couldn’t have a turn with you. Why wouldn’t I want to share you with the two people I love the most in the world?”
Something about his statement hurt even though she knew it shouldn’t. “Do you care about me Ryder? Even a little?”
Ryder slipped his hand under her dress. “More than a little.” His fingers delved between her moist folds. “I love you, princess.”
Overwhelming joy fluttered through her by his unexpected words. He loves me. Evie laid her head on his shoulder and moaned.
“Princess?”
She loved the pet name. “Hmm.”
“Why is your pussy wet with cum?”
Embarrassment raced up her spine and she groaned. “I’m sorry. I had sex this morning.”
“With Nick or Zane? Both?”
“Zane. We didn’t have a condom.” His fingers pushed farther inside her. Evie relaxed again on his lap and sighed.
“So you let him ride you bareback? Filling your pussy with his seed?” He lifted his brow.
“Ryder, don’t be angry. I’ll let you and Nick come inside me too. We didn’t plan it. I swear.”
He chuckled softly, stroking the walls of her wet pussy. “I’m not angry. I would have done the same thing he did. Bastard beat me to the punch.”
Relieved at his show of humor, Evie placed her arms around his neck, enjoying his lazy strokes inside her pussy. She wasn’t in a hurry to come; it felt nice just being so close to him.
“Are you two best friends now?”
She swung her head to the side at the sound of Nick’s voice. Zane came striding in behind him.
“Guess that answers our question.” Zane plopped down in the armchair opposite the couch.
Evie returned her attention to Ryder, whose arms tightened around her. He looked over her shoulder to his brothers. “Eager Beaver here came inside her pussy.” She saw him tilt his head gesturing to Zane.
She gasped. Did he really have to share that information with Nick? She had to speak up and defend Zane. “I wanted him to.”
None of them said anything to her. They kept on speaking as if she wasn’t there, although Ryder’s finger was still up her dress fondling her cunt.
Nick slapped Zane on the head. “Nice going.”
Zane shrugged. “What’s the big deal? I wasn’t going to let a condom get in the way of a perfectly good time to fuck.” He smiled at Evie. “You enjoyed it didn’t you, babe?”
Evie moaned softly as Ryder squeezed one of her breasts. “I did. You guys, please don’t blame him. It’s my fault too.”
“Be quiet,” Ryder told her, looking over her shoulder again. “What if she gets pregnant?”
Evie turned, curious to see and hear where the conversation was headed. Nick walked over to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. “We keep fucking her until she has the baby, then we fuck her again.” He shrugged. “It’s too late now anyway. I’ll fuck her when you’re done. If you didn’t already fuck her and cum inside her, you can do it after me. At least we all have an equal chance of fathering her kid, if she gets pregnant.” Nick looked over at Zane. “Guess we can throw out all those condom packets.”
Ryder nodded to his brothers. “You’re right.”
Bristling, Evie lifted herself off Ryder’s finger. “I’m sitting right here and you guys are talking about me as if I’m a piece of furniture. I thought it was the four of us in this together. Or am I still just here for your amusement?”
Nick walked over to her, scooping her off Ryder’s lap. He cradled her in his arms. “Sorry, sweetheart. We didn’t mean to make you feel like that. Give us some time and I’m sure you can train us to your liking.” He winked at her and laid her on the rug, lifting her dress. Evie spread her legs for him, flushing at the way Nick’s eyes darkened the instant he glanced between her legs. “He gave it to you good, didn’t he?” She nodded despite being utterly embarrassed. Evie wondered what she looked like down there, sticky with Zane’s semen.
Nick gazed at her. “What else did you do today, sweetheart? What were you and my brother doing in here before we came inside?”
She heard Ryder’s ragged groan and saw him walk up behind Nick, his eyes settling between her legs. “Tell him, princess.”
Evie bit her lips. “I w
as sucking Ryder’s cock.”
“Did you swallow?”
“Yes.”
Nick sighed and unzipped his pants. “Let me get this straight. You have Zane’s seed in your pussy and Ryder’s cum down your throat?”
Evie averted her gaze and nodded slowly, as a smile curved her lips.
Nick pushed his cock into her. “You’re a slut, sweetheart. Plain and simple. I’m just glad Ryder convinced us to make you ours.”
She cried out and dug her heels into the rug. Ryder and Zane stood in front of her, their eyes riveted to Nick fucking her.
“Fuck her harder,” Zane prompted. “She can take it.”
Ryder nodded in agreement, his eyes locked with hers. “Evie’s always hot for a big cock in her pussy.”
Evie lifted her eyes in shock, but unable to refute what Ryder said. Nick laughed softly and pumped into her harder. “I think you’re right. She’s squeezing the fuck out of me.” He grabbed her breasts, pushing into her with long strokes. “Ryder’s right isn’t he, sweetheart? It turns you on being used by the three of us, doesn’t it?”
Keening her answer, Evie twisted her head to the side and back, looking at the men. Nick rolled her nipples between his fingertips. “We love you, sweetheart. All of us. We love you so much. You’ll always be ours. Even when we’re old and gray, you’re going to keep that cunt naked and ready for us. The three of us fucking our perfect little love slave.”
Her orgasm slammed into her and Evie cried out. The sound wrung from her heart was suddenly muffled by a pair of lips crushing over hers. Ryder. She felt and saw Zane press his lips to her neck.
“I love you too,” she whispered, after her kiss with Ryder ended. “I love all of you and I’m happy you kidnapped me. The only thing I’m still trying to figure is which one of you slashed my tire.”
Nick groaned and slid out of her. “Sorry sweetheart, that was me too. I did it after I saw you go inside the club.”
Lovingly, Evie slapped Nick on the shoulder. Zane folded his arms around her while Ryder continued to kiss her face. She laughed softly. “You guys owe me a new tire when we go to pick up my stuff.” The brothers nodded, their eyes reflecting the love she felt for them. Evie swallowed, her eyes misting and snuggled closer to her men.
Sure, they’d kidnapped her and used her body, but in the end, Evie wouldn’t change it for the world. She was loved and wanted and needed by three men. What else could a wanton woman ask for?
The End
Post Op
Copyright © Erin O'Riordan
My first surgery of the day was still a few hours away. I showed up at the hospital early to make my rounds. The first patient on my schedule was Joseph Zorich, twenty-eight years old, in room 304.
I checked his chart. Judging by his meds, Joseph Zorich should either be asleep or really out of it. He was on enough painkillers to knock out Marlon Brando.
I went up to the room and knocked softly on the door. It swung open, and I was eye-to-eye with a man.
He was in his twenties, dressed in jeans, a ball cap (on backwards) and a t-shirt with a beer company logo, giving the appearance of an overgrown frat boy. Or maybe a jeans model. He was tall and solidly built, with a wide chest. His longish, chestnut brown hair was a shade darker than his thin, neatly-groomed moustache and matching soul patch. He smelled faintly of marijuana, and his dark eyes were lined with pink.
“Oh, are you the doctor?” he asked, stuffing a pack of cigarettes back into the front pocket of his jeans.
I held out my hand for him to shake. “I’m the surgeon, Dr. Maggie Keller. I don’t suppose you’re my patient, Joseph Zorich?”
“No,” he said, moving aside to let me into the room. “I’m Max. That’s Joey in the bed by the window. Excuse me, Dr. Keller. I’m going outside.”
As he walked away down the corridor, I fought all of my baser instincts not to stick my head out the door and watch him go. I don’t know what it was about Max that got me going, but I had an instant crush.
I cleared my throat, walked past the sleeping patient in the first bed, and introduced myself to my three o’clock surgery. “Mr. Zorich? I’m Dr. Maggie Keller. I’ll be performing your operation this afternoon.”
Joseph Zorich had the same dark eyes as Max; they might have been brothers. Like Max, Joseph was clearly stoned, except that Joseph’s drugs were legal.
“You’re a chick,” Joseph said.
“I know,” I said. I’m used to this kind of stupid comment. This patient at least had the excuse of being whacked out of his mind on painkillers. “I’ve come by to ask you if you have any questions about your surgery.”
“Your hands are tiny,” he said, staring with wonder at my hand clutching the clipboard. Good thing I’d just had my nails done. “Very delicate. You’re going to do a good job of fixing my back, I can tell. Max is worried.”
“Oh, yes,” I said. “I met Max at the door. Is he your brother?”
“He’s my lover,” Joseph said, without the slightest hesitation. “If he was my brother that would make some of the things I do with him pretty sick.”
That’s what I get for assuming the whole world is heterosexual. I should have known they weren’t related; their bodies were totally different types. Max was thick and solid, with rosy pink skin. Joseph was long and lean, but not skinny. His skin was olive-toned, and the shoulder that I could see through his badly-fitting hospital gown was dotted with freckles.
Joseph went on. “You’re pretty,” he said. “You’ve got beautiful tits. I’d love to suck them. Max would like you, too, I think. What do you say, doctor? Instead of a surgery today, how would you like to have a three-way with me and Max?”
I can’t say the thought of hopping into bed with Mr. Zorich, especially if Max would come back from his cigarette break, didn’t cross my mind. But I’m a doctor; I’ve heard everything. And I didn’t let this patient get under my skin.
“Mr. Zorich, you’re obviously in a lot of pain, and under the heavy influence of the painkillers they’ve given you. I’m going to leave my card on your bedside table. If, at any time between now and your surgery, you think of any questions you’d like to ask me, feel free to call. I’ll try my best to answer all of your questions before I see you on the operating table.”
“Have it your way, Doc,” he said, suddenly looking sleepy. As I walked away, I tried not to stare at the circus tent under his thin sheet. Joseph Zorich obviously had a lot on his mind, other than his upcoming surgery.
* * * *
I made my morning rounds, seeing two more patients before my first surgery. Mr. Zorich’s surgery was my second of the day. I’d pushed all thoughts of him and Max out of my head until I saw him, anesthetized and face-down in front of me. It wasn’t really like looking at Joseph Zorich, the human being, at all. I was looking at a sterilized four-inch-square area of the skin on his back—my worksite—little more than a piece of meat. The only thing recognizably human about it was a strip of those freckles.
I did what I’d been called in to do: operate on a herniated disk in Mr. Zorich’s back. I did it well, never once thinking about his wildly inappropriate comments—or his sexy boyfriend. Then I scrubbed up for my next surgery.
After my five o’clock, I stepped outside the hospital for a cigarette break.
“Doctors shouldn’t smoke,” said a voice behind me. I turned; it was Max, out for a cigarette break, too.
“I know,” I said. “It’s a bad habit. But you know, I don’t think I would have made it out of medical school without these things.” I frowned at the half-smoked cigarette between my fingers, dropped it, and crushed it underneath my high-heeled shoe.
“I quit a couple of years ago, technically,” Max said. “But I go back to it when I’m nervous.” He added, “Joey’s still knocked out. I can’t wait for him to wake up.”
I put my hand on his bare arm gently. Touching him set off something inside me, but I forced it from my conscience. “It can be hard watching someone
you love feel pain,” I said. “But Joey should be fine in a couple of weeks.”
“How long will they keep him here?” he asked.
“Two days, usually,” I said. “They’ll just want to make sure he doesn’t try to do too much too soon.”
Max looked down at the sidewalk, and I knew what was on his mind. He was thinking about the home he shared with Joey, and how empty his bed was going to feel without him.
“He hurt his back playing basketball,” Max said. “Joey’s got a long jumper that’s just impossible to block.”
“I’ll bet,” I said, thinking of Joey’s long arms and legs. A body like that was designed for shooting a long jumper. And for other things. Images of Max and Joey together crossed my mind. I wondered if Max could see it in my eyes.
“He should be playing basketball again in a couple of months,” I said. “He’ll just have to be careful.”
“Doctor?”
“Yes, Mr.—?” Damn. I didn’t know Max’s last name. All of a sudden I wanted to know Max’s last name.
“It’s Lowell,” he said, “but you can just call me Max.”
“Max,” I said. What a name. What a man’s name. And Max was definitely a guy’s guy. He and Joey might be lovers, but I’d bet they’d never once in their lives been called all those names that boys love to throw at each other. Queer. Fairy. None of them applied; Max and Joey were men, pure and simple.
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