Three Men and a Woman: Liberty (Siren Publishing Menage Amour)

by Rachel Billings

  That girl sparkled, so Tag was happy. She danced with him and Keeg and Ry, and she danced with their neighbors. She gave one dance each to her father and brother, and several to her friends—women—from Denver.

  In July, after a month on the ranch, she’d let her school know she wasn’t coming back and sold her place in Denver. She’d agreed to run the drama program at the local high school as a volunteer, but declined to carry a teaching load. She was writing full-time—at least, as full-time as a woman could when she had three men to please and one week out of four in the cooking rotation.

  Marty had found a producer for their first musical—it was to have a run in an off-Broadway theater. Tag was a little afraid Lib would be spending some time in New York, but he figured he could live with that. She’d always come home, and he’d have a front-row seat for the show’s debut.

  The woman looked his way now from amidst a group of her gal pals on the dance floor. Marty was among them, but Tag didn’t think he’d object to being included in that description.

  Catching the eye of the DJ, Tag stepped onto the dance floor. The DJ took the signal for what it was, finished up some crazy hip-hop song, and led into a slow ballad.

  Lib understood the signal, too. Giving a smile—to him more than to her friends—she walked into his arms.

  “Hey, babe,” he said.

  She put her arms around his shoulders, still smiling. She was maybe the only adult at the whole shindig who wasn’t at least a little bit tipsy. There was a good reason for that. “Hey,” she said back as she swayed along with him.

  “How you feeling?” he asked. She hadn’t had her head in the toilet for the last couple weeks that he knew of, but she didn’t always tell him everything. Still, her early pregnancy had sapped her energy, and he liked to keep an eye on her. Those pretty eyes were shining, though.

  “I’m fine,” she said, leaning in. “Very fine.”

  He kissed her, less than he wanted to, but probably more than was exactly decorous. “I hope you’re saving some energy for tonight. You remember…”

  Keegan had set her room up all boudoir-like with flowers and candles again.

  They’d made a place for her in the fourth wing of the house. Mostly, it was a bedroom with a custom-made bed taking up most of the space—a bed big enough for four people to fall asleep in when the occasion called for it. Sometimes only one of the brothers was in there with her, or she was in one of their rooms. But other times—the very best times—all four of them were together there.

  Keegan had determined that this night would be one of those.

  Lib smiled again. “I remember.”

  She was still smiling a couple hours later, but Tag could see that her energy was waning. A little before midnight, he sent Orion to her. He watched as Ry put his arm around her, let her say a few goodnights, and then walked her to the house.

  Ry came back a few minutes later, and Tag imagined he’d left their girl curled up in her bed for a nap. His dick was anxious to find out. He gave it another hour, then started rounding folks up. Most of the locals headed home, but there were plenty of blanket rolls for anyone who wanted to curl up in the hayloft or sleep out under the stars.

  They were all invited to stay or come back for breakfast. He had a rodeo catering company bringing a chuck wagon meal in the morning. Which, as far as he was concerned, all the guests could help themselves to. The Harpers weren’t necessarily committing to be there.

  They had something to do yet tonight, and it might require a little sleeping-in come morning.

  He stood at the barn door as the partiers either drove away or settled in. After a few minutes, Keeg came and joined him. Then Ry walked up, too, and the three of them turned and went together to the house.

  * * * *

  “Maybe we should let her sleep.”

  That was Orion, still the one of the brothers least likely to trust—that she loved him, that she loved them all, that she was never happier than when all three of them made love to her. He was her staunchest guardian.

  “Yeah,” said Keegan, and she could hear him—or one or two or all of them—divesting himself of some clothing. “No.”

  He was bare-chested when he put his hands on the bed, leaned in, and nuzzled her. “She wouldn’t be happy if we didn’t end this night with our own personal, three-on-one fireworks.” His lips were at the corner of her mouth, teasing a smile out of her. “Would you, babe?”

  Liberty gave up playing possum and opened her eyes.

  Tag was shirtless, too, moving around the room and lighting candles. Keeg had been at work again, romancing up her lovely room.

  Like the men’s bedrooms, they’d left it open to the out of doors. There were windows on three sides, reflecting back now, in the dark, what was happening in the room. Candlelight, flowers, three spectacular men.

  And one happy, naked, slightly pregnant woman.

  Tag sat on the other side of the bed now and took her hand. He kissed her palm and held it to his face. She looked at him with her smile in place, using her eyes to let him know how much he was loved.

  They all adored that she was pregnant with their child—theirs. That was exactly how they all four thought of it. But it had taken a bit of effort to overcome their natural inclination to treat her with kid gloves the moment she’d conceived.

  “No more gangbangs,” Ry had said, even as they’d all looked at the pink line on the pregnancy test.

  “What?” she’d laughed. The fact was, her condition had made her, if anything, hotter for them. They all knew that they’d have to slow things down in her later months, but right now, she always wanted all they had.

  It had nearly taken a written note from her midwife, though, to convince them. The brothers had sent Ry along to that first prenatal visit, because they figured if he was satisfied with the advice they got, they all would be.

  Claire had raised her brows for only a few seconds when Liberty had described her relationship with the Harper brothers, and then she smiled. “A ménage?” she asked, like it was an everyday occurrence.

  Points to her, Liberty had thought.

  And, whatever was comfortable to Lib, was the answer. Sexual activity wouldn’t hurt the pregnancy, but Lib’s ease with all positions or…combinations—Claire did seem to struggle a bit over that one—would likely change as the pregnancy progressed.

  “Just don’t blow air into the vagina.”

  Ry frowned and tilted his head at that, like he was trying to imagine the circumstance…

  Claire met Liberty’s gaze and the two women laughed. “I’ve never pictured it, either,” Claire said. “But it’s the one caution I have, as long as everything else with the pregnancy is normal. Go and…be merry.”

  Once they got over that hurdle, the men ran hot, too. Apparently, having gotten her pregnant the very first month she went off birth control was a significant satisfier to them. Like their testosterone levels had needed any further encouragement.

  They still coddled her a bit. She got a pass on cooking duty those first few weeks when she was, literally, nauseatingly sensitive to some odors. They thought she should nap every day, and sometimes she actually did, instead of just sneaking a couple quiet hours with her laptop. She pretended not to notice how they made an effort to always have one of the men within shouting distance of the house.

  Overall, she loved their tender care, and sometimes tears came to her eyes when she imagined them caring for their child in the same way.

  “You up for this?” Tag asked now.

  “Anything,” she answered. “Everything.”

  Liberty never got tired of the way his eyes lit. He kept hold of both her hand and her gaze as he lifted her wrist to the top of the bed. Someone else was there, someone with a satin ribbon in his hands.

  The bed had been built with certain hardware—ring latches at each of the four corners and in the middle along the top. She’d been bound with leather before. Handcuffs made of steel. These days, the bindings we
re left loose and made of velvet or satin.

  Keeg raised her other hand, and Ry finished tying her, wrists bound together and secured to the bed. He leaned over and gave her an upside-down kiss. “Okay?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Good.”

  The three men stood in a circle around the bed. Almost as one, they opened their jeans and slid them down lean hips and muscled thighs.

  Liberty sighed. Already her body quickened. Her pussy moistened.

  Tag left the bed for a moment. When he came back, he handed items around—feather ticklers for Keeg and himself, and a riding crop for Ry, who was at her feet now. “Do you think we can make her come without touching her except for these?”

  “I think we can make it happen with just the feathers on her nipples,” Keeg told him. “She’s gotten so sensitive since, you know, we knocked her up.”

  He was right. Her nipples had seemed to find a whole new nervous system.

  “Let’s try,” Tag said.

  The three of them stood there, outstanding in their male nudity, cocks jutting out, watching avidly. Tag and Keeg reached out with their ticklers.

  Even before they touched her, Liberty’s nipples were hard and pointed. With her arms raised, her tits thrust up so her nipples were completely at their mercy.

  With the softest of touches, Liberty was already moaning. Her blood heated so easily now, so quickly. “Oh.”

  “Yeah, sweetheart. You like that, don’t you?” Keeg had one hand on his cock, pleasing himself as he teased her.

  “Yes,” she said, and it was a hiss, hot and needy. “More.”

  The feathers were so light, a touch so soft sometimes she thought she was only imagining it. But there was more to be had there, and she knew it. At the base of the feathers, each tickler had a nubbed sphere that gave her the kind of stimulation she needed now. Tag and Keeg knew she needed it, too.

  But they didn’t give it to her. They used only the feathers and drove her crazy. Even when she writhed, when she lifted and lunged to find satisfaction, they withheld it.

  “More!” she said, and it was a demand. They didn’t bite back their grins as they tortured her.

  “Come, baby,” Keeg urged.

  “I can’t,” she cried. “I need…” She tossed on the bed, trying to get what she needed.

  Desperate, she looked at Ry who stood at the foot of the bed, riding crop in hand. Shamelessly, she opened her legs. “Help me.”

  Ry could never resist her, and he didn’t now. He tipped the crop so the leather tab cushioned its end. Watching her eyes, he pressed it against her clit.

  “Oh,” she wept. “Oh, God.”

  Tag and Keeg were touching her as she needed it now, using the firm, nubby ends of the ticklers, brushing them roughly against her nipples. Ry stroked her clit, a pulsing beat that matched the thudding of her heart.

  Liberty pressed her feet into the bed, lifting up for more. Her body rocked, finding more stimulation from Tag and Keeg and then from Ry.

  “Don’t,” she begged. “Don’t stop. Do more. More.”

  And they did it, though she was hardly aware. Because she was gone with it, arching, bucking, spasming hard. Crying out, beyond hearing or seeing for the ringing in her head. The roaring.

  “Oh,” she murmured in the end. A soft, spent, exhalation. “Oh.”

  Then they were moving, her three men. On the mattress with her. Releasing her hands from the bed frame, raising them so she was on her knees, suspended from a chain attached to the ceiling because, yes, they’d built that in, too.

  They situated themselves like it was a choreographed dance. Ry slid under her, lifting her enough with his strong arms to bring her down on his cock, filling her in that satisfying way that only her men could do. Tag stood in front of her, one hand on the chain for balance, his other on her face as he tilted her up for a kiss. His cock was there, erect and pulsing, and she knew she’d soon have it down her throat.

  Keeg was behind her. He ran kisses over her shoulders and along her spine. And he touched her, as she knew he would, with the cold nozzle of lube at her ass.

  His teeth grazed her neck. “You want this, baby, don’t you? You want me to fuck your ass.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “While Ry fucks your pussy, and Tag takes your throat. You want all that.”

  “Yes.”

  “Triple penetration. A triple fuck.”

  “Yes. That’s what I want.” What she needed. Already, she was flexing on Ry’s cock, asking for exactly what Keeg was offering. Begging for it. “Please.”

  “You got it, baby.”

  He shoved the nozzle into her sphincter, reaming her with it, and then blasted in a cold shot of lube.

  “Oh, God. Keeg.”

  “Cold, sweetheart?”

  “Yes,” she moaned. She arched some more, and Tag leaned into the chain and slid his hands down to her nipples. “Yes,” she moaned again when Tag pinched down.

  “I can heat it up for you,” Keeg offered. “You know how I can do that, right?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Say it.”

  “Fuck me.”

  “Fuck your ass.”

  “Yes.”

  “Hard and hot.”

  “Yes. Stop talking,” Lib moaned. “Do it.”

  She felt the warm huff of Keeg’s laugh at her neck. More importantly, she felt his fingers at her anus. “Yes. Oh, yes.”

  He reamed her, his two fingers, she thought, and the first knuckle of his thumb, too. Stretching her sphincter for what she knew was coming. But it was glorious in and of itself, that edgy, rasping, crude sensation.

  “You like that.”

  Helplessly, Liberty shuddered. “Fuck me, Keeg.”

  And without warning, he did it. He put his cock at her opening and shoved in, all the way in. Stretching her more, the way she was already stretched around Ry’s big cock. Filling her, sliding in parallel to Ry, so they both were so deep, both had her so…taken.

  Keeg’s hands clutched her ass. Ry helped hold her upright, his hands supporting her along her ribs. And Tag still had her tits, looking down at her, her head tilted back.

  In tandem, Ry and Keeg fucked her. Between the muscled hold they had on her and the bolstering from the chain above her, she was lifted enough that they could both thrust and withdraw. Room enough, they had, to slam in and out of her.

  Tag’s gaze was holding hers as his brothers went at her. After a few moments, he let go of her tits. He cupped her head with one hand, and fed his cock into her with the other. Then he fucked her, too, pumping into her mouth and down her throat.

  Other hands—Ry’s, she thought they must be—covered her breasts. Squeezing lightly, then circling her nipples with his thumbs—soft and tortuous. She moaned, and then Keeg slipped his fingers to her clit and she whimpered.

  They filled her and stimulated her in every way men could give pleasure to a woman. They pleased themselves, too, fucking more hotly into her, groaning out their own satisfaction.

  Lib loved it, the way they could make her soar, the way her body could accommodate each of them, thrilling them all.

  She felt Keeg’s teeth scrape at her back. “You’d better hurry up and finish, Tag,” he grunted out with another hard thrust. “She’s about to go over, and she’s going to need to scream.”

  Keeg was right, and Tag seemed to know it, as well.

  “Yeah, babe,” Tag said. “I’m going to come. You’re going to take it. Take all of me. Swallow me.”

  She could do it.

  Tag went deep, his big cock surging down her throat. He pumped a couple times, and then she felt the jerking pulse of his climax. He held deep, groaning huskily, and spurted down her throat.

  He withdrew and held her head as she gasped for breath. As she fell, then, into the oblivion of her own orgasm. As Ry’s fingers twisted and pinched her nipples, as Keeg’s spastically rubbed her clit. As their cocks took her, thrusting roughly, deep and hard, until they, to
o, were growling out their comes and spurting hotly into her.

  Shuddering, shivering, Liberty collapsed. Her hands were loose and she fell into Ry’s arms. Breath still sawing, Keeg slid out of her and moved to the side, keeping an arm wrapped around her as he helped her bring her legs out from beneath her weight. Tag went to his knees then lay across the head of the bed, his hands soft now on her face, holding her.

  Long minutes passed before she had the energy to even open her eyes. But when she did, Tag was there, looking back at her. Lovingly. Satisfied. Maybe only the littlest bit smug that he’d been right.

  She was the Harper brothers’ woman.

  Their wife.

  THE END

  RACHEL BILLINGS.WEEBLY.COM

  

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com