Billings, Rachel - Three Men and a Woman: Felicity (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Rachel Billings

  He waited until she recovered enough to take her own weight, to lift her heavy lids to meet his gaze. He nodded and pulled his hand out, not caring about the little squeal she gave.

  “Get in the truck.” Nudging her to the side, he opened the door and gave her ass a boost. She reached to cover that pretty tit, but he stopped her with a little slap to her hand. Well, he might have just grazed her breast, too. “Leave your clothing alone. Hand me your phone. And move over to the center.”

  He snagged the little purse she carried slung by a long shoulder strap and set it beside her in the shotgun seat. He bumped her hands away after she opened it up and took his own look—phone, driver’s license, work ID, credit card, some makeup shit, a little cash, and a couple condoms. Two. Hah.

  She’d come prepared for the average guy. Not for him.

  * * * *

  Felicity slid across the bench seat and dropped back against the headrest while the guy helped himself to her phone. She knew she should be questioning her sanity and taking measures to keep herself safe, rather than wallowing in the mind-numbing afterglow of that wild orgasm.

  She was in a stranger’s truck—a powerfully strong, sexually aggressive stranger. Her jeans were open—to say nothing of wet with the evidence of her pleasure—and her right breast was bare. And, apparently, it was meant to stay that way.

  All in, she’d said. Closing her eyes, Felicity took stock of her situation. She’d just given her consent to…anything, apparently. She’d just allowed a man she didn’t know to bring her to a wicked, public orgasm. To call her “bitch” while he did it.

  She’d made no protest to his use of that crude word, to his objectifying her in such a non–politically correct way. Not only not protested, she’d gloried in it. He’d said, “Come, bitch,” and she’d thrilled to it. She’d wanted to do what he said, wanted to please him, wanted to be…his bitch.

  He was rough, as he said he’d be, and she’d loved that, too. It had felt remarkably good to give over, to let him use her as he wanted. To be the willing object of his powerful sexual domination.

  It was so not her, and still, so very…compelling.

  Without much hope for it, Felicity opened her eyes and took a deep, grounding breath. She reminded herself she didn’t even know the man’s name.

  And then she did, because he nudged her arm for her attention. He put the phone in front of her face.

  It took her a moment to focus on the screen. It was a text to Cassie.

  Reinen Kilbourne, HMC

  2832 West Azalea Point Road

  “Got it?”

  He waited for her to nod before he pressed send. “I’m not giving you my social.”

  He put her phone back in her purse, left the purse on the seat beside her, and reached across to fasten her belt. He stood back to close the door, but, before he did, he leaned in again and put his mouth to her bare nipple. He sucked hard, and she could feel his tongue stroking her, and she had to work to suppress the urge to arch back with the pleasure of it.

  She was breathing roughly again when he lifted up and waited once more for her gaze. “Jesus, you’re hot,” he said. “I’m going to fuck the hell out of you and enjoy every damn minute of it.”

  He closed the door and walked around to get in behind the wheel. His shoulder was hard against her and his thigh pressed hers. She watched out her window as he backed out of his space.

  “What’s an HMC?” She didn’t have to ask about the address. She knew it was near the botanical gardens, close to the water on the north shore of Lake Whitehurst. It was a high-end neighborhood, with four-thousand-square-foot homes and swimming pools. Doctors lived there. Not sailors.

  Still, it was a bit reassuring. He wasn’t taking her to a seedy hotel.

  Before he answered, he turned left on Hampton and then navigated another left onto Little Creek. Once he got situated for the long cross-town drive, he shoved his fingers into her panties again and up her cunt. Jesus. “Ow.”

  “Get used to it. HMC is a hospitalman, chief. I’m a corpsman. Like a medic.”

  She took a breath. Maybe she could get used to it. After that abrupt incursion, his fingers inside her felt…nice. Sexy. She might even have resettled herself, opening a bit more for him. God, he was good.

  And, apparently, they could carry on a rational conversation while he finger-fucked her. “I’m—”

  “I know. Felicity Reed, RN. You’re twenty-six. Five eight and you say you’re one twenty.” He looked her up and down. “You didn’t have to lie about that. You look better at one thirty. Brian, your asshole ex, has one of those pretentious lofts downtown. I hate him already. I’d be happy to help you move out tomorrow.”

  She looked at him, flashes of light and shadow making his features appear harsh.

  “You don’t even know me.”

  He shrugged. “I have my fingers inside you. And I’ve put my truck to worse use than moving a pretty woman out from some fuckhead’s place.”

  She shook her head, befuddled.

  He caught it. “I’ll do whatever you want this weekend. I’ll fuck you every which way to Sunday—’til Sunday. But on Monday, you oughtta show up to work. You don’t want to let Brian-the-asshole win.”

  Felicity let her head fall back again and closed her eyes. “I should rely on life coaching advice from a sailor who picks up strange women in bars?”

  The man had the gall to chuckle. “Yo. You’re the one with a stranger’s fingers in her pussy.” She felt his gaze on her. “Your very sweet, very hot pussy.”

  She sighed, unable to argue. “It’s Rainen?” she asked, taking a guess at the pronunciation.

  “Nope. Ri, like the bread. Ri for short is okay.”

  “You do this pretty often, don’t you, Ri? You went into that bar looking for a woman.”

  He was slow to answer, like he was considering his words. “I do it once in a while. Not so much these days as I used to.” He looked over at her, moving his fingers and finding some uber-erotic spot. “And I don’t usually get this lucky.”

  She closed her eyes again and let him play with her. “I’ve never done it before.”

  “Beginner’s luck, Red. You totally hit the jackpot.”

  Felicity huffed out a laugh. “So you say.”

  She felt his grin, and she couldn’t help but like him.

  “You know I’m not lyin’.”

  * * * *

  Reinen had an easy time keeping her—and himself—simmering until he pulled into his garage. She was freaking responsive, and all it took to stop her from drifting off was the occasional little diddle. And that was no effort at all.

  He wasn’t surprised that the bay next to his was empty. He shared his house with a couple other Navy guys. Given a sailor’s life, they were seldom all three home at the same time. So it didn’t cost him much in terms of privacy, and it meant a lot in terms of the kind of house he could afford.

  Reinen had been in the Navy for seven years. Prior to that, he’d made some decent money as a bounty hunter. His dad had been a U.S. marshal, and Ri had learned a lot of skills from him. But he’d gotten tired of only seeing the worst of human beings, and of making children cry when he took their daddies away, even if they were total skanks and sorry excuses for fathers.

  Life as a corpsman had been a great antidote to those years. He helped fix people instead of just pissing them off. It varied from mundane, like some shifts in the base hospital, to the exciting and heroic, like the years he’d deployed with a battalion of Marines. He liked both.

  When he’d first put most of his bounty savings into buying the five-bedroom home, he’d filled it with sailors. These days, he valued peace and quiet more, so he was down to just two long-termers who were both good friends.

  His buddy Wesley Coleman was an FCC, a fire controlman, chief petty officer. Pretty much that made him a computer geek who played with really big toys—Aegis missiles. Wes was at sea, so his convertible Mustang was in the far bay of the garage under a
tarp, as it should be. Wes’s carrier group was due back from deployment in a couple weeks.

  His other housemate—Andrick Skinner—was one of the helo crew chiefs on Reinen’s cruiser. They’d just got back on their boat after a few months rehabbing it in dry dock, and other than a couple weeklong sails to test all the new systems, they were in port. But Andy’s life had recently been thrown into turmoil by a girl. And since his SUV was gone, Reinen figured Andy was with her in Hampton.

  The girl was Juniper and would have her first birthday in a month. Andy had had a short, rocky marriage that ended extremely badly. He and Ellen had done what they thought was the right thing when Ellen had turned up pregnant. But she’d never been happy, and her postpartum months had been a spiral into hell for both of them that ended in Ellen’s suicide. For the past six months, Andy had shared Juniper’s care with Ellen’s mother, struggling to keep up with both his job and his responsibilities as a parent.

  When he had a weekend off, Andy sometimes spent it at his mother-in-law’s place. In a lot of ways, it was less disruptive to Junie, even though they’d turned one of Reinen’s spare rooms at the house into a nursery. At the moment, Reinen was grateful Andy was gone, given that his plans for Felicity didn’t involve sneaking around the house trying to be quiet so as not to wake the baby. Or anyone else.

  There were a lot of rooms, a lot of surfaces. He intended to leave a few redhead skid marks on a bunch of them.

  He watched her as the garage door slid closed and the light went off. She’d started to look a little needy. No reason they couldn’t start with his front seat. He spent a good minute working her clit as he brought his hand out from between her legs. “Slide out of your jeans, baby. Right now.”

  She looked at him, a little startled. “Are we alone here?”

  He looked back baldly. “Yeah. But it wouldn’t matter one way or the other. ʼCause I told you to take your jeans off.”

  Reinen got out and walked around the truck. Through the windshield, he caught her gaze and knew she wasn’t following orders. So he stopped and looked at her, eyebrow raised, hands at his hips. No surprise, she was the first to flinch. He saw her lift her hips and wiggle about as she got down to business.

  When he got around and opened her door, he grabbed both her knees and spun her toward him. He took a look and grunted. “Isn’t that cute? You thought I meant for you to leave your panties on.”

  He lifted her feet and tilted her so she fell back across the seat. He pulled her hard toward him, bracing her feet up against his chest. Grabbing that little bit of lace with both hands, he tore them down her legs. The small ripping sound they made probably meant they were toast.

  Collateral damage.

  Slowly, watching what was revealed, he moved her left foot and propped it on the doorjamb. He got a sweet little view of her pretty pussy when he pressed her right leg open.

  “Nice,” he said, taking a quick glance at her face. She was hot, practically moaning for what was coming next. “Brian likes you shaved, huh?” He took hold of her clit and tugged a couple times. “Me, I don’t mind a little bush. I like my women to look and smell like women.”

  He leaned down and nuzzled her, nose and mouth over her mons, then her clit. “I can tell I’m going to love the way you taste.”

  He tongued her then, good hard strokes over her clit. She moaned out loud and flexed, opening herself more to him, giving herself over. “That’s my girl,” he told her. “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

  She was so easy, on the verge of coming just like that. He took her to the edge and then lifted up. Watching her face, he waited, letting her know who was in charge. Just to entertain himself, he cocked three fingers and slid them up her cunt. Her groan told him she liked it.

  “Felicity.”

  She rocked, making the most of his fingers, and rolled her head. “What?”

  “Do you want me to lick you some more? Do you want me to make you come?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes.”

  “Say it. Ask me.”

  “Unnh.” She moaned in frustration, lifting up with her foot pressed against the doorframe, trying to get what she needed. “Lick me. Suck me. Please.”

  “Say please again.”

  “Please. Ri. Reinen. Please.”

  “Good girl.” He fucked hard into her with his fingers and bent his mouth to her clit again. He sucked her in and just like that she was coming, banging up against his mouth for more. She spasmed, her body flexing hard. She tossed her head and screamed.

  “Ahhh! Ow! Ahhh!”

  Maybe he was a little rough with those fingers, but she got over it. She came long and hard, clenching his fingers with her cunt and hooking her right leg around his shoulder, keeping him close.

  “Oh. Oh.”

  “You’re a hot fuck, baby.” He rubbed his face over her belly, soothing her a little and drying his mouth against her hot skin. “Let’s get you inside and I’ll introduce you to my cock.”

  He started to lift her, but out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of that tattered lace, starkly white against the cement floor of the garage. Feeling a little embarrassed, thinking foolishly of a lady’s favor and a knight’s conquest, he reached down and tucked her panties in his back pocket.

  Chapter Two

  Reinen wrapped Felicity’s legs around his waist and lifted her so she fell, almost collapsed, over his shoulder. He turned and kicked the door shut behind him.

  Her naked breast rubbed against his tee as he carried her into the house, and he had one hand with a good grip on her ass. Already she’d had two rocking orgasms to his zero, and that was a better record than she’d had in three years with Brian. There were times when he’d come, and times when they’d both come, but never a time when she came and he didn’t.

  Either stranger sex was wicked hot, or Reinen was right. She’d hit the freaking jackpot. And she hadn’t forgotten what he’d promised her. That cock she felt even now rubbing up against her pussy was hard and bulky—and, for tonight anyway, it was hers.

  Apparently, however he wanted to give it to her.

  He was right about her height and weight—Felicity wasn’t a petite woman who was accustomed to being carried off for the purpose of ravishment. But for the first time, she felt like it. Reinen carried her easily, bounding up the three steps into the house like he carried no more than a sack of groceries. A sack of groceries that had him eager for a snack.

  He took her through a short hallway where she got a glimpse of a powder room and a descending staircase. It opened into a huge kitchen and informal dining area. There was a large island with a cooktop, and he took her there. He set her down firmly on the cold granite surface—a sensation that was both chilling to her bare ass and oddly soothing to the slightly abused, tender tissues of her pussy.

  His body was wedged firmly between her legs, keeping them spread wide. He kept her nudged close against the pressure of his hard cock still contained in his jeans. Holding her there with one hand, he tugged her shirt down to bare her other breast. Her shirt and bra cupped her, squeezing her breasts up and together in a way he seemed to like.

  He growled as he savored the view. “Arch back,” he said.

  She knew what he wanted. She dropped her head back, arching her spine so her breasts thrust toward his face. He took advantage, using one hand and his mouth to pet and suckle her. He buried his face in her cleavage, nuzzling her, then drew hard on one nipple while he tugged on the other with his fingers. Moving his mouth to the rise of her breast, he sucked a bruise onto her.

  She knew it wasn’t the first mark he’d put on her, but it was the most intimate, the one that would let any other man know she’d been in Reinen’s possession.

  He handled her until she was near the point of pain—or maybe just past it—and panting with need. Then he lifted his head and let loose of her long enough to reach between them and open his jeans. He watched her, those hot-cold eyes shimmering, as he covered himself with a condom he’d t
aken from his back pocket. He took his time about it, making sure she got a good look at him. At his size.

  Gripping the hair at the back of her neck with one hand, he held her bound. He leaned in and kissed her hard and deep before lifting back to watch her face. With his other hand on his cock, he rubbed himself against her opening. She whimpered as he pressed in, the size of his cock confirmed by the extreme stretch of her body.

  He pushed in steadily, ruthlessly. Seemingly endlessly.

  “You’re fucking hot, Felicity. Tight. This hurts you a little, doesn’t it?” He pulled back once and thrust in again. “Hurts good, right? You’re going to like it. You’re going to scream.”

  He kept that grip in her hair and wrapped his forearm around her lower back, securing her as he began slow, hard thrusts. He pulled her forward, a motion that chafed her bottom along the countertop in a surprisingly tantalizing way and opened her for even deeper penetration.

  She shuddered with the extreme stimulation of it and saw the blaze of satisfaction in his eyes.

  “You need this, Red, don’t you? You need a good fuck.”

  He tugged at her hair when she didn’t answer.

  “Yes,” she said, and it was almost a sob.

  “Say it.”

  “I need you to fuck me. It feels so good. I need it.”

  “Hard?”

  “Yes. Yes. Hard.”

  She knew it would happen whether she wanted it or not, and it did. He thrust in again and again, withdrawing all the way so each time it was a full breach, a full taking. He was driving her, his own body tense and his breathing harsh, but he was still in control.

  He lifted her top over her head and then drew off her bra and threw it aside. “Put your hands on your tits for me. Squeeze your nipples. Hard.”

  She was totally at his mercy then, supported only by his arms, dropping her weight back as she lifted her hands to her breasts and pinched her nipples.