Seduced by Three

by Sylvia Ryan

  Minutes passed before Grace stopped sobbing and clutching Luke.

  “We’re sorry, too. We can’t blame you for leaving,” Van said. “We know we were acting like pricks. But we’ve worked everything out between us. We missed you so much, love you so much.”

  Sarge squashed the impulse to push Luke away and comfort Grace himself. “We came to bring you home,” he rumbled through the knot in his throat.

  Finally, she pegged each man with her shrewd, blue-gray eyes. Her inspection lingered over the scrapes and bruises on their faces.

  “Worked things between you how? Your faces tell a slightly different story.”

  “It was a process.” Van hesitated as if he were choosing his words carefully. “Our compromise and negotiation techniques need some tweaking.” He grinned. “But that’s over now. We promise you won’t have to deal with our lame attempts to keep you for ourselves. No pressure for you to choose. No animosity between us. Just the three of us loving you. Period.”

  Grace’s face softened, and then an easy smile emerged. She squealed as she scooted herself from the bed and moved toward him and Van. She hooked one arm around his neck, and one around Van’s, and pulled them close.

  “I love you, Gracie,” Sarge whispered in her ear.

  She looked at him with tears in her eyes. “I love you, too.”

  His desire for her returned as soon as her lips met his. There was no hesitation in her kiss. Her mouth opened to him immediately. Each tongue swirled and caressed the other with hot, wet synergy. His hand traveled to her back, flattening her body against his.

  “I was coming back to you,” she whispered into his ear before she moved her kisses to Van.

  Sarge’s blood pressure rose along with his cock at their reunion. He needed Grace’s smooth skin under his lips, her body under his. He glanced at Van and Luke. He didn’t need to be psychic to know that the other men were thinking the same thing. Sarge squelched the flash of possessiveness that raged at the thought of the other men having her. He had made an agreement, and he was going to honor it. His selfishness and domineering in regards to Grace would have to be curbed, just as theirs would.

  He would have to remind himself frequently that above all, he wanted her to be happy. They all did.

  She was all of theirs. Period. And he’d better start acting like it.

  Luke pressed up against Grace from behind. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the side of her neck. His arms wrapped around her thin form, and his hands caressed her stomach, her breasts. Without warning, he tugged at the hem of her nightgown, pulling it over her head.

  Grace stood completely naked in front of them.

  Sarge couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath that escaped him, and the “Oh my God” from Van told him he wasn’t seeing things. She was a skeletal version of the woman who’d run away from them. In the vague light, Sarge saw the outline of her ribs on her chest above her breasts. Her knees were knobs in the center of her legs, like a newborn colt’s. And her stomach protruded, just like the images burned into his memory of the starving people he’d encountered during his time in the service.

  “Grace,” Sarge hissed. “What the fuck is going on?”

  Grace turned her back to him and his question without answering. She wrapped her arms around Luke, and Luke mouthed to him, “Calm down.”

  Sarge saw the trembling in the underworked muscles of her legs. She could barely hold herself up.

  “He’s not mad, ladybug, just a little shocked.”

  Grace looked over her shoulder at Sarge with questioning eyes.

  He smiled at her. “After the last few months, I don’t think I could ever be mad at you again.”

  Grace’s eyes darted toward Van. “We’re all good, and, Luke, give the woman her nightgown, it’s obvious that she’s in no condition to do much of anything, let alone what you have in mind.”

  “Besides, I’m hungry.” Luke looked at Sarge with a burning glare. “Hungry, Sarge?” he asked as his eyes widened and his eyebrows raised. “Van?”

  “Starved. I’ll get us some food,” Van said before he disappeared to the pitch-black side of the basement. He returned immediately. “Flashlight,” he said to Sarge, holding out his hand.

  Sarge handed it to him and then looked around at the shelter. “This place is a hole.”

  “Pretty depressing, huh?” Grace mumbled.

  He turned to face her. She was a lovely skeleton with bleak eyes and the strain of solitude evident from the air of hopelessness surrounding her.

  Sarge’s vocal chords refused to do the whole sound-coming-out-of-his-mouth thing. He swallowed. “Yeah.”

  “Why aren’t you eating?” Luke asked.

  She shrugged. “I couldn’t keep anything down for a long time, and then it just seemed like”—she paused—“like my mind wasn’t working right.” Grace choked back a sob. “I wasn’t hungry. I didn’t want to get out of bed, and the longer I stayed that way, the easier it was to just not bother.”

  Luke sifted Grace’s hair with his fingers. It was longer, almost to her shoulders, and it looked like she hadn’t brushed it in a month.

  Sarge cleared the pansy-assed lump out of his throat. “I’m going to get some stuff to clean up with.” He didn’t wait for a reply. He just walked into the darkness among the shelves, and, in the darkest corner he could find, sat his ass down on the cold cement. His composure disintegrated. He felt crippled. There was nothing he could do. He wanted to take back every word, every action that had led Grace to this. His whole body teeter-tottered between rage and monstrous horror. He officially hated himself.

  It took him a long time, sitting there in the dark, to regain his composure. When he finally did, he retrieved the flashlight from Van, found what he needed to clean Grace up, and then returned to the group just in time to eat. It wasn’t only Sarge who repeatedly eyed the spoon of peanut butter, powdered orange juice, and granola sitting in front of Grace. All the men were keeping careful track of her interaction with the food, trying to determine if she was going to be friends with it, or if it was going to be a forced pairing.

  She was talking as she intermittently licked a little peanut butter into her mouth.

  Then, a word grabbed his attention, bringing him back to the group. “What did you just say?” Sarge asked.

  “When I got here, my ex-boyfriend was in the shelter.”

  Okay, so now she had his full attention. “The asswipe your dad talked about?”

  “I guess.” She shrugged. “I made a terrible mistake. I just couldn’t shoot him when he was coming at me.”

  “Coming at you?” Van asked.

  “Yeah, he was going to…He wanted to…”

  “It’s okay, Grace. You don’t have to talk about it if it’s too much,” Luke said, rubbing her blanket covered leg.

  Grace shook her head. “I’m not upset about him trying to rape me. I’m upset and disappointed in myself. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill him, and it almost cost me my life. My dad, he spent his whole life training me for this, and I couldn’t do any of it on my own.” She looked at Sarge. “He was right to have you come get me. I failed.”

  Sarge registered the word “rape” and had a difficult time tracking what she said after that.

  “Where’s the ex-boyfriend now?” The malevolence he felt heated his body, and an urge to kill the fucker had him fisting his hands.

  “He’s dead.” She looked directly at him with her sad, hollow eyes. “I pushed him down the stairs. I was lucky that I didn’t go down with him.”

  Sarge stared at Grace, waiting for her to go on, but she didn’t. Her eyes roamed over his face, and then she leaned back against the wall and clammed up.

  “What?”

  “Dude, you look like your head is going to explode,” Van said.

  Sarge took a breath and sat back in his chair. “I’m good.”

  “I’m ready to go home,” Grace announced. S
he looked at Sarge. “Please.”

  Chapter 23

  Grace spent the next week being spoiled and practically force-fed by her men. At Luke’s insistence, they bundled her up and sat outside with her for hours. She was being treated like a queen, and being in her own shelter while being spoiled had its perks. Her legs were shaved smooth, her nails polished, and the delicate scent of sweet flowers hung lightly in the air.

  Sarge and Van were looking over the supplies on the other side of the shelter and preparing what they wanted to take with them when they all left later that night.

  She lay down next to Luke, and he turned to his side, facing her. Luke ran hands over her so lightly that she giggled. “Quit it!”

  “Okay, okay. But I want you to know it’s getting harder and harder to be good.” He rested his hand on her waist.

  “I have to ask you a question, and you have to be honest with me,” she whispered.

  “What’s on your mind, ladybug?”

  “Why hasn’t anybody said anything about the baby?”

  “What baby?”

  “The baby.”

  Luke looked at her blankly.

  “Our baby…the one you guys were ‘Oh my Godding’ about when you ripped my nightgown off the first day?”

  Luke lifted up onto his elbow. “You’re pregnant?”

  “Duh. What did you think?”

  “I…I just thought you had lost too much weight.”

  She gaped at him. “Sarge and Van, too?”

  “I guess. Oh shit, baby, we got it all wrong. I’m sorry.”

  “Thank God.” She released a breath of relief. “I just couldn’t understand...I was starting to think we had a problem.”

  Luke raised a palm to her cheek and kissed her so gently she wanted to melt into his arms and stay there forever. The relief that came from that one little action engulfed her. Her body let go of stress and tension that she didn’t even know she’d been carrying.

  “You have to tell them. This has been a big misunderstanding.”

  She shook her head. “What if they get mad? I don’t want Sarge mad at me again.”

  “He won’t be mad.”

  Grace clammed up as Sarge and Van came over to their side of the shelter with duffel bags in tow.

  She got up from the bed and nervously looked over the bags. “Looks good.”

  She couldn’t look either one of them in the eye. Shit. She had started to walk away when Luke caught her by the wrist.

  “Tell them.”

  Grace shook her head. “Later.”

  Luke took her by the shoulders and turned her to face Van and Sarge again.

  “Hey, Van, Sarge.”

  The men looked at Luke. “What’s the gestation period for a ladybug anyway?” he asked as he wrapped his arms around her from behind and caressed her baby bump.

  The stunned silence of the two men standing in front of her triggered a pang of uneasiness inside Grace. They looked at each other and then turned their attention back to her.

  Van walked toward her. His eyes roamed over her midsection. “You’re pregnant?”

  Grace nodded while her stomach churned with the caustic feeling of anxiety.

  Without warning, Van picked her up and swung her around in his arms. “Damn, woman, you never cease to surprise me.” He planted a kiss on her lips, and then another one, before he placed her firmly on the ground in front of Sarge.

  Grace looked up into Sarge’s face, afraid. “Are you okay with it?”

  He smiled at her, warmth and love reflected in his gaze. “More than okay, Gracie. More than okay.” He cradled Grace’s face in his hands and kissed her lips softly. He brushed his whisker-rough cheek against hers, holding her close.

  He pulled away from her slightly, and she and looked into his eyes. The usual coal-black intensity they normally had was replaced with a gentleness she had never seen in him before. He was happy. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. They were in new territory. They were both being honest about their feelings, and surprisingly, they were on the same page.

  The men circled her again, surrounded her, and pressed in on her closer and closer.

  “We can head back to my place tonight. In the meantime, I’ve got an itch that needs some scratching,” Sarge rumbled.

  A manic giggle escaped from Grace before she could slap a hand over her mouth and silently curse the unmerciful effects of the pregnancy hormones coursing through her veins.

  “Holy shit. I think Grace was girly for a second,” Van said.

  Then came Sarge’s low, deep rumble of a laugh. “Couldn’t be. Our Grace is a badass.”

  She smiled. They accepted her. And it seemed like they accepted each other.

  As they closed in on her, the feeling in the room changed. There was an undeniable undercurrent of desire surrounding her on all sides. They loved her, and now they wanted to show it.

  When the first of their caresses touched her skin, from the very first brush of lips on her shoulder, she could tell that this time with the men would be very different from the last time so many months ago. There was no crazed urgency, no aggressive dominance.

  Oh there was no question in her mind that in the bedroom, they still owned her, and she knew the next hours would follow an inevitable course. They would possess her, every single part of her. But today their style had changed. There was a total reversal in their tactics. Their sexual invasion had changed from hot and spicy to slow and sweet, like she was an ice cream cone they wanted to linger over.

  Hands ambled with exploring intent as all of their clothes fell away. Grace leaned back onto Sarge’s chest, and the comforting knowledge that she didn’t have to be in control of her feelings toward these men freed her. She had that thrilling, singing feeling surge inside her chest, and a weird combination of anticipation and excitement wanted to scream out of her. She could practically feel it trying to escape from her throat as the men inched her back toward the bed and laid her down gently. Any noise that came out of her mouth was swallowed up by the mouth that covered hers. She didn’t have to open her eyes to know that it was Luke’s tongue delving into the willing recesses of her mouth, searing her with his languid exploration. The fringes of his shaggy hair tickled over her face.

  The slow, meandering caresses of their hands and tongues spurred her lust. They were too slow, too savoring. Grace broke the kiss. “Oh God. More. I need more,” she sputtered.

  A chuckle followed. “Don’t worry, Gracie, we’ll give you what you need.” The words were delivered in hot, wet pants against the tightened bud of a nipple. Grace raised her hand and crushed Sarge’s mouth into her breast.

  Another plea was about to leave Grace’s lips when she felt the needy opening of her cunt breeched. She lifted her head for just a moment to flash a peek at the man who’d answered her plea before it was even spoken.

  Van. Raw intensity reflected on his face as he looked down at her from between her legs. He slid his fingers in and out of her. His pace was agonizingly slow.

  Grace tossed her head back onto the mattress. Son of a bitch, they were procrastinating their way to this orgasm.

  “I love the look on your face. You’re so desperate for more that it looks like it hurts,” Luke said as he brushed a lock of hair away from her face. “Does it hurt, ladybug? Do you need us so bad that it aches?”

  “Yes,” Grace groaned. “Oh God, yes.”

  Before the last syllable passed through her lips, Grace felt eager mouths seal over her pussy and her breast. Her clit screamed to be feasted upon, throbbed for just the slightest graze of teeth or tongue. But she got nothing. Van teased her, gliding and circling his tongue up and around, going everywhere except the place that would send her tumbling from the precipice she teetered on. The presence of his mouth so close to her need seemed cruel.

  But luckily, Luke wasn’t teasing her nipple. He was alternately sucking and biting on the puckered peak with enthusiasm.<
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  “Please,” Grace whined to Van.

  “Shhh, Gracie.” Sarge stood at the head of the bed and pulled her a few inches toward him so that her head was hanging upside down over the edge. “Let me fill that mouth so you won’t feel the need to beg us. It’s so…distressing,” he said, smiling wickedly, as he stood in front of her. The tip of his cock was mere inches from her as he guided it and pressed the head against the seam of her lips. “Open,” he ordered.

  Grace’s defiance grew in proportion to her frustration, and both had been escalating with the slow, lazy teasing she’d been enduring. If they wouldn’t give her what she wanted, she definitely wasn’t going to suck cock, no matter how much her mouth watered for it.

  “Open!”

  She pressed her lips together and shook her head. With inner satisfaction, she reveled in her defiance. But her victory was short-lived. Van snaked out his fiery hot tongue and flicked her clit, just once.

  “Oh!” Grace’s response of surprise and pleasure was met with Sarge’s cockhead sliding smoothly into her mouth and the taunting of his chuckle floating down to her ears.

  “It’s three against one, Gracie. You won’t win this. Take me all the way. I want to feel you swallow on my cock.” Sarge’s powerful voice rumbled through her, commanding her, soaking into her skin and ordering her muscles to do what he wished as he held her head in place with his hands.

  The angle of her head gave his cock excellent access to glide deeply in and out of her mouth. Grace raised a hand and circled the base of Sarge’s shaft and pumped in unison with his glides while the other hand cupped and fondled his balls gently. She had an inner sense of satisfaction when she heard a long moan of pleasure from him.

  Grace relaxed into a rhythm as her attention turned to the barrage of touches her body received. Van maintained a slow campaign with his tongue. He ran it through her swollen slit, still avoiding her clit more often than not, spurring profound frustration in her. But soon, it wouldn’t matter anymore. The minutes of slow, steady finger fucking she’d had to withstand had coiled her unbearably tight, primed her so thoroughly that just the slightest contact with her clit would bring her violently to orgasm.