Nuit Aux Trois

by Melinda Barron

  "Good girl, you come for us.” Fletch's hands kneaded her breasts harder and Quinn knew she was right on the edge.

  Dev increased the pressure on her clit and she bucked her hips in appreciation.

  "I'm, oh, Dev, oh.” Her orgasm rocketed through her core. White-hot bolts of sensation shot through her body as Dev continued to lick, his muffled words of appreciation driving her over the edge again.

  "Oh my lord. Oh..."

  Dev lifted his head and smacked his lips. “Delicious."

  "Share with me,” Fletch said, his breathing rapid.

  Quinn moaned out her disappointment when Dev rose up on his knees. That disappointment quickly turned to delight as Dev pulled Fletch's mouth into his for a demanding kiss. She watched them in wonder as their tongues danced around each other, then sighed when they pulled apart.

  "You're right,” Fletch said, licking his lips. “Delicious."

  They kissed again before Dev leaned down and claimed Quinn's lips. She could taste her tangy juices on his tongue and it sent a thrill through her body. She'd never tasted anything like that before, and to do it with her two favorite men was beyond fantastic.

  Dev stood and hastily removed his clothes. Fletch lifted her with gentle hands and laid her head down on the pillowed blanket, then standing to take his own clothes off. Quinn watched them in wonder. Both men were hard, both wonderfully long and thick.

  She bit her lip as images of the two of them taking her flashed through her mind. When they were both naked, they stepped toward each other, their hands wrapping around the other's cocks.

  They stroked and kissed as Quinn watched in wonder. Their tender, sensual movements had her pussy aching with need for one—no—both of them.

  After a few moments, Fletch leaned down and picked up a small foil package. Their lips met again as he quickly wrapped a condom around Dev's cock. When his cock was sheathed, Dev stepped back and then looked down at Quinn, a predatory gleam on his face.

  "Do you want me, Quinn? Do you want us?"

  "Yes. Oh my lord, yes."

  Dev dropped to his knees. He lifted Quinn's hips and settled them on his thighs so his cock was right at her opening. He grasped his hardness and ran it along her dripping pussy.

  "Now. Please."

  "Fuck her, Dev. Put that hard cock in her soft slit."

  Dev growled deeply, then pushed himself inside Quinn. He stopped partway in, and Quinn's pussy clenched around his length, a wonderful sense of fullness invading her body.

  "More. I want all of it.” Was that her talking? She hadn't thought herself capable of speech. Her body was on fire, tendrils of pleasure snaking out to every nerve ending.

  Dev plunged forward to the hilt and Fletch groaned. “Yeah, fuck her."

  Each stroke brought more heat to her aching pussy and made her clit throb. Fletch leaned down to captured Quinn's nipple in his mouth, trailing a hand down her body until he found her pussy, dipping one finger into her slippery juices while Dev continued to pump.

  "Oh fuck!” Quinn's senses went into overload as Fletch's fingers found her clit and tormented the aching bud. He rolled it under his thumb and the added sensation was too much. The orgasm rocketed through her, the inner muscles of her tight sheath clamping down on Dev's cock. He groaned in sublime pleasure and pumped her harder, the sound of their bodies slamming together echoed through the otherwise quiet night as Dev followed her into the stratosphere.

  When they'd both come back down, Quinn heard Fletch's murmured words of encouragement to the both of them.

  "So beautiful.” His voice filled with dark passion, he stood and grasped his cock, moving toward Dev and offering it to him.

  When Dev opened his mouth and swallowed the head, Quinn gasped with delight.

  Dev wrapped his hands around the base of Fletch's cock and sucked greedily. He was still buried inside Quinn, but she could feel him softening, leaving her. She scrambled up on her knees and moved toward them, her eyes fastened on the scene before her.

  When she was in reach, Dev pulled his mouth back and offered her Fletch's cock. Dev cradled her neck, kneading his fingers along her slick flesh as she swallowed the swollen head.

  "He tastes wonderful, doesn't he, sweet Quinn."

  "So good,” she said, licking the head before she pulled him back inside. After a few moments, she pulled back and watched as Dev took her place.

  Fletch put one hand on each of their heads, his fingers caressing them with increasing pressure as Dev and Quinn took turns pulling him inside their mouths. Fletch's groans filled the air and Quinn marveled at what she was doing. She'd wanted this for so long, but had never thought it would happen. And now, in the middle of a haunted plantation, her dreams were coming true.

  "Je viens,” Fletch said. “I can’ wait no more.” He took a step back and grasped his cock, pumping it rapidly. When his orgasm hit, he aimed the stream at Quinn's swollen breasts. Dev's hands went to work immediately, massaging the warm liquid into her skin.

  "Oh, fuck.” Fletch gasped out the last of his pleasure as Dev's head dipped to Quinn's breasts and began to lick, sucking in each of her nipples with ravenousness intent.

  Fletch watched, transfixed. “I like that. Oh yeah, amoureux, lick her clean."

  He dropped to his knees and kissed Quinn quickly. She gasped when he pulled Dev's head up and gave him a bruising kiss, pushing the other man's head back until they were both groaning.

  When the kiss broke with a pop, Quinn sighed.

  "What time is it?"

  "Close to eleven,” Dev said. “We'll rest here for a while, then go back to the house and see if we can rouse the ghost around midnight. Then we'll know if Delphie is as talkative as her sister."

  They lay down with Quinn in the middle, Dev at her backside and Fletch at her front.

  "So,” Quinn said. “Do you think Alison, Amedee and Cyrille were, um, doing the nasty?"

  "Yeah,” Fletch answered. “I do."

  "It makes sense,” Dev said. “You saw them making love, and inviting someone to join, and the screaming ghost was Delphie, I'd make a bet, which means they weren't inviting her. And there was only one other person in the mix."

  Dev's hand rested on her hip and Fletch's on her arm. She felt warm and well loved. Her eyes drifted shut, then immediately popped back open.

  "So, it's Delphie..."

  "Hush, Boo. We rest now and work after midnight, the witching hour."

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  Chapter Seven

  Quinn stepped inside the bedroom and stopped. She half-expected the same scene she'd witnessed that afternoon to play itself out again. But no one was there. Fletch and Dev rummaged through their room next door, gathering equipment to use in Alison's room.

  Quinn's room was quiet, with no sounds of lovemaking or screaming ghosts to greet her. She cleared her throat and whispered, “Delphie?"

  The silence remained, so she tried a different tactic.

  "Amedee?"

  She remembered Alison's words in the graveyard: Help my Amedee. He's being hurt by the witch.

  It brought many questions to the forefront. First, was Delphie a witch, or did she practice voodoo? In Louisiana, voodoo made more sense.

  "Delphie. Did you kill your sister and Cyrille?” When the words popped out of her mouth, Quinn shook her head.

  "I'm losing it. I'm talking to thin air."

  "Maybe not,” Dev said, coming in behind her. He leaned over and kissed her, then moved toward the bed. Pausing, he turned to her. “Hold this for me, please."

  "What is this?” She examined the item. It looked like a wind chime, with several pieces of heavy metal fastened to chains, which extended from a circular piece of metal.

  "It's a ghost catcher,” he said. “I'm going to hang it from the ceiling. The general idea is, if we fall asleep, the changes in the room that the ghost brings will make the pieces bang together and wake us up, so we can see what's happening."

  Fletch came in carry
ing a small ladder.

  "Found it downstairs,” he said, leaning over to kiss Quinn.

  "I could get used to this,” she said when he moved away.

  "Hope so,” Dev said. “That big bed we bought was for the three of us, you know."

  "Yes, I know that now. I just wish you would have told me first."

  "What's the fun in that?” Fletch asked, even as he turned to Dev and said, “Told ya so."

  "Yes, you've already said that. Can we get to work, please?"

  They hung the ghost catcher in the middle of the room.

  "Okay. Time for bed,” Dev said.

  "What?” Quinn turned to him. “Aren't we going to stay up and see what happens?"

  "The ghosts are in this room,” Dev replied. “You've already proven that. They may not come back tonight, but maybe, just maybe, the three of us getting into bed together will set Delphie off again. You said she was screaming when she saw Alison, Amedee and Cyrille together."

  "We don't know it was Cyrille,” Alison said. “Maybe she was screaming because they started without her. Maybe the third person in the equation was Delphie."

  "Doubt it,” Fletch said.

  "Well, if Delphie is the ghost in the house, why would she show me Alison and Amedee making love? I personally think she would stay quiet. The more noise she makes the more she increases the chances of the owners bringing in a priest to purify the house and drive her away."

  "True,” Dev said. “But did you ever think maybe it was Amedee showing you the scene this afternoon? Alison tells us Delphie has control over him. Maybe he is here, too. Maybe he is the one who makes the mischief in October, near the anniversary of his death. Maybe he has more power at that time."

  "Do you think?"

  "It makes sense,” Dev said. “He would want people to know the truth."

  "Let's talk it out,” Fletch said. “We know Amedee killed Cyrille."

  The strands on the ghost catcher stirred and they all three turned toward it.

  Quinn took a step toward Dev, who pulled her against him protectively. They silently watched the chimes, which moved softly.

  "Keep talking, Fletch,” Dev said, his voice low. “Someone's listening."

  "So,” Fletch continues. “After the murder..."

  The strands moved violently, the sound competing with Fletch as he continued to talk.

  "...Amedee, he brings Alison back here and kills her."

  A violent wind swept through the room. The lights blinked on and off, then went off completely, leaving them in darkness. Almost simultaneously, Fletch and Dev turned on the flashlights they carried in their pockets and Quinn gasped as a large glass vase sitting on the dresser lifted into the air and sailed toward Fletch's head. The man ducked seconds before it hit, and the glass smashed into the wall, shattering into little pieces.

  "Okay,” Fletch said, holding up his hands. “Let's try this, you fils de putain. You didn't kill Alison, Delphie did."

  The wind died down and Quinn released a pent-up breath. “It's true."

  "He wants us to believe it's true,” Dev said. “We have no proof of anything except for the story that's been passed down through history, that Amedee killed Cyrille and Alison, and then died the following Halloween."

  The ghost catcher moved again, this time more slowly.

  "He's losing energy,” Dev said. “He's angry because we're blaming him for Alison's death, but he doesn't have the energy to fight us on it. First Alison comes to us this afternoon, now this. We need to find out what really happened."

  "Martin's going to be here the day after tomorrow, on Halloween,” Quinn said. “We can ask during the séance—oh my lord! Did those words just come out of my mouth?"

  Both men laughed and Dev pulled her closer to him. “They did."

  "But we can't get a straight story out of Amedee or Delphie,” Dev said. “We should talk with Alison. We should have the séance at the family cemetery."

  "Alison talked to us without a medium,” Quinn said.

  "Yes, but her outburst weakened her, just as Amedee's weakened him tonight. If we use a medium, we might be able to talk with her longer."

  Quinn leaned back into Dev's chest. He tightened his arms around her and she sighed.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Well, if Alison is at the graveyard, and Amedee is at the house, where is Delphie? Or Cyrille? I saw her this afternoon, but Cyrille has yet to make an appearance."

  "Not yet, but he may. Alison lost energy this afternoon, pretty quickly,” Dev said. “Martin will help her focus, and help me make contact, but we need him before Halloween. We'll call him first thing in the morning and ask him to come up tomorrow night."

  "And then?” Quinn hugged her arms to her chest. The air was warmer, but she knew Amedee was still there.

  "We go to the City of the Dead and see if Alison is at home,” Fletch said. “Until then, we sleep."

  Quinn shook her head. “In here?"

  "Oh yeah, Boo,” Fletch laughed. “This is where the action is. Don't worry. We'll protect you."

  "Are we going to, well, you know?"

  Dev laughed and pulled her closer. “She wants a repeat of earlier, lover."

  "That would make three of us,” Fletch said. “But work first, play later."

  "Like in the morning,” Dev said, his tongue tracking over Quinn's neck. She shivered in his arms.

  "Perfect way to start the day,” Fletch said with a nod.

  Quinn couldn't agree more.

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  Chapter Eight

  It was a beautiful dream, one she'd had so many times before. Only this time she knew it wasn't a dream. Fingers glided over her clit. More than one set. She wiggled further down into the mattress and moaned.

  "Good morning, Boo,” Fletch's voice was full of desire.

  "Yes, good morning.” Dev's voice chimed in, the sound as smooth as chocolate.

  Quinn squeezed her eyes tighter, afraid to open them for fear the dream would end. She groaned as one set of fingers dripped down her wet slit to her opening.

  "Spread your legs,” Dev said as Fletch pulled one of them over his hips. Dev's fingers slipped into her wetness, sliding down and probing for entrance.

  "She's wet for us, Fletch."

  Quinn wanted to scream. She was pretty sure she'd been wet most of the night. When they'd gone to bed, with Quinn lying in between the two of them, they'd each kissed her passionately and she'd been almost embarrassed at her body's reaction, the fact she'd begged for sex.

  "Not the right time,” Dev had said.

  "Yeah,” Fletch had said, licking her nipple. “We wait until tomorrow and make it even sweeter."

  Then, they leaned across her and kissed each other good night. Quinn would never tire of the sight of them kissing, no matter if it was sweet and tender, as she'd seen many times at their home, or rough and hard, as she'd seen last night.

  The love they felt for each other showed with each kiss, and last night had been no different. Now, as they trailed their fingers through her wetness she couldn't believe her dreams were becoming reality.

  "Make me come before I wake up,” she whispered, moving her hips to give Dev better access. “I'm afraid you'll disappear once my eyes are open."

  Their shared laughter sent chills up her spine.

  "You want to come, Boo?” Fletch said, whispering against her ear. “What else would you like to do? Tell us."

  "Um...” she bit her lip and gasped as Dev's fingers slipped inside her. “Fuck?"

  "Is that a question, or a desire?” Dev began to gently slide his finger in and out of her slick center.

  "A desire.” She gasped as Fletch gently squeezed her clit. Their fingers moved slowly, teasing her with their tender strokes.

  "Well,” Dev said. “The next question would be how you would like it?"

  Quinn's eyes popped open and she stared first at Dev, and then at Quinn.

  "Um, the usual way?"

  Th
ey both laughed again.

  "Boo, there is no usual way. That's the fun of sex. Use that creative mind of yours. Then tell us how you'd like it."

  He leaned down and claimed her lips, his warm and wet over her own. He teased her with his tongue before pulling back.

  Quinn thought she would go crazy as they continued to stroke her, applying hard pressure that had her moaning and bucking her hips before backing off and teasing her, making her beg for more.

  She delved deep into her mind, trying to decide what would constitute using her imagination. Not simple screwing, that was for sure. Something different, something that would make them both sit up and take notice.

  She giggled nervously as she thought about when her fascination with Dev and Fletch had first started. It was the time she'd seen them kiss, very soon after she'd moved into their house. She'd watched them as their lips met, wondering what would come next, wondering what it would be like to ... Bingo!

  Their fingers continued to dance around her pussy and she sighed.

  "I want to watch,” she whispered as Fletch took her clit between his thumb and forefinger and gently squeezed.

  "Excuse me?” Dev's fingers stopped the exquisite pumping they'd been doing for the last few minutes.

  "I want to watch the two of you make love."

  She propped herself up on her elbows and bit her lower lip, lifting her eyebrows up and down.

  "You asked what I wanted, and that's it."

  They both shook their heads before removing their fingers from her pussy.

  "No, make me come, first.” She hated the pleading tone in her voice, but her pussy was on fire, throbbing from the attention they'd both been giving her.

  "Don't think so,” Fletch said. “That comes after."

  He nodded at Dev, who left the bed quickly and went into the other room.

  Quinn's heart started to beat faster. She wasn't sure how that was possible, because for the last five minutes, she'd thought it would jump out of her chest and run away. But somehow she knew they were going to add their one little twist to her request.

  "Um, is something wrong? I mean if me watching is too..."

  Dev walked back into the room and threw something at Fletch, who caught it and moved toward the top of the bed.