“Oh… Oh… Oh…” It wasn’t a very demonstrative orgasm, but was a very intense one as I shook and gasped.
Drake gently rocked me back and forth on his cock in time with my little cries.
When the last of the shudders rolled away, I leaned back, planting my hands on the hard contours of Drake’s torso and began to work myself up and down. Drake’s hands found my hips, guiding me, rocking me back and forth. Swiftly, I grew accustomed to his size but neither of us felt any need to alter the blissful pace, so slow and unctuous. It was like a drip feed of pleasure into my soul and I kept making small cat like mews with every movement and every tug at my insides. Drake was my rock, the rock on which I sat, the rock on which I leaned, and the rock within that seemed as certain as granite. But though he was hard as rock, he was gentle as a kitten, never rushing me, always letting me go at my speed, constantly aware of my pleasure. His strength was in his ability to hold back, taxing his muscles with patience.
How did I get so lucky as to meet three men so concerned with the woman they were with?
As another orgasm started to crest in me, welling up from the depths, I leaned forwards, bearing down on Drake. He took hold of my hips, physically lifting me with each stroke, his strength replacing mine, which was now all but spent, until I cried out and bounced my hips hard against him, using his rock-hard cock to drive me through another searing climax.
I lay down on his legs until the palpitations had ceased to wrack my body, then sat up and twisted around on the pivot of Drake’s still solid cock. I lay down flat on him, relishing the firm regular pulse that beat inside me, and kissed him. I wanted to tell him how good he had made me feel, what extraordinary stamina he had, how much this meant to me. But with Drake there seemed no need for words. It was all there in the silence and in the kisses.
With gentle hands, he rolled me over onto the emergency blanket we had found in the plane, still kissing, my breasts crushed tight against the broad, muscular landscape of his chest. I mewled into his mouth as he drew back out of me, and purred in pleasure as he thrust back in, so very strong and yet so tender. With each firm, thrust of his powerful body he seemed to make me a woman afresh, his cock giving so much.
I don’t know what I had expected from Drake, but I had not expected the gentleness. He didn’t treat me as if I was made of glass – men like that are just no fun – his caress was always firm but soft. He was a big muscular guy, who could have done whatever he wanted, and was doing exactly what he wanted – but what he wanted was to make love to me, slowly, gently, and more thoroughly than any man I had ever been with. When he pushed into me, that super-sized cock seemed to send a wave of pleasure before it that crashed through my body, filling me from the tips of my fingers to the tips of my toes with pleasure. Every part of me tingled.
Looping my hands around my knees, I pulled my legs back to make sure I was getting all of him. I rocked my body against his, hoping that the pleasure was as perfect for him as it was for me. At one point he stopped, his face sweat sheened and amusingly earnest with effort as he focused on what he was doing. I kissed his serious face and stroked his cheek.
“Aren’t you enjoying yourself?”
“More than I could put into words. I just want to please you.”
“It would please me to please you.”
Our mouths met in hungry kisses and our loins ground at each other in hot, frustrated circles. I let go of my own legs to clutch at my lover, scratching at him, tugging on him, anything to alleviate the sudden tight heat that burned at my insides. From seeming as if we could go on forever, an intense orgasm seemed to have crept up on both of us. I could hear Drake gasping, trying not to lose his shit, but the time had come.
“Darling. Please come with me, darling.”
My pussy clutched tightly at Drake and then as he spurted into me, I seemed to explode. I cried out and kicked my heels against his hips as he continued to come inside me. Our mouths locked in a passionate kiss and we rode out our climaxes together, working our bodies against each other till the last dregs had been drained and we collapsed, exhausted to the floor.
As ever, there was no need for words, we cuddled up together, holding each other tight and drifting off to sleep.
What a week. Yes, I had been shot at, been on an exploding boat and in a plane crash, but it was easy to forget stuff like that when you had men like this. There was a slight shadow of worry at the back of my mind over what might happen next. But for now, all was right with the world, and I drifted into an exhausted slumber.
When Drake and I woke, it was to two figures standing over us.
Campbell and Red looked down at our naked bodies, still curled up together in calm, post-coital bliss, with wry smiles on their faces.
“Hope you managed to keep yourselves occupied while we were gone,” said Campbell.
Red laughed and shook his head. “If you’re quite finished, there’s a helicopter outside.”
We all looked at each other, and to my immense relief, we all laughed.
Chapter 13
Monte Carlo.
The name alone conjures up images of glamor, opulence and European style. I’m ashamed to admit that I had to look it up on a map to find out exactly where it was before we arrived. It turned out to be more or less where I expected, on the southern coast of France near the border with Italy, mixing the laidback style of the French with Italian passion and sexuality.
I think every woman has at one time or another fantasized about arriving at a casino in Monte Carlo in a sleek sports car, dressed in a fabulous gown, on the arm of a handsome man, turning heads as she enters but pretending not to notice. Imagine doing that on the arms of three fabulous men. I felt like a spoiled princess as I strolled casually into the L’Age D’Or Casino with Campbell, Red and Drake, as if I did this sort of thing every day. I wore a long black gown the glittered beneath the bright lights from the diamonds stitched into it, it hugged my every curve as if it had been painted onto my skin and yet was perfectly comfortable and allowed me to move easily. It had been made to measure by an elite dress-maker and had been waiting for me when we arrived at our hotel - Le Grande. The guys wore tailored evening dress and it went without saying that they all looked stunning – I had seen them all naked and that was only marginally better than this.
Even Red, whose rugged good looks seemed better suited to a check shirt and jeans, looked good enough to eat, like a pirate who had cleaned up his act. I would have bet that finding a dinner jacket that fit Drake’s muscular form would have been a challenge, but the perfectly fitting suit transformed him. And Campbell… Well, Campbell could not have looked any more at home – this was his world.
It felt good to walk in with them and I relished the moment of a fantasy fulfilled. But there were some worries at the back of my mind. Not about the mission itself – maybe I should have been thinking about that, but I figured that was the guys’ problem and they seemed to know what they were doing. It was just that… from the outset, Red and Drake had definitely known that I had slept with Campbell. Campbell and Red had walked in on me and Drake - not actually doing it, but soon enough after that it was pretty obvious. It seemed impossible that Red had not mentioned, or the others had not surmised, that he and I had filled our empty day on the beach with quite a lot of sex.
But in the two days since our departure from the mountains, I had not slept with any of them.
Maybe this sounds a little like the poor little rich girl; poor me, the three gorgeous men I’ve slept with in the last week haven’t fucked me for forty-eight hours. I had known when I slept with each of them that this was not for keeps, that it was a vacation fling and quite possibly a one-night stand. That had been the idea. But in the circumstances, given that we were all unavoidably remaining together till LeSoeur was defeated, I thought they would want to take advantage of me. I would have made it very easy for them. That was what I wanted, but I didn’t feel like I could say it because, a) they hadn’t approached me, and
b) either I asked all of them, which was awkward, or picked one, which seemed like favoritism. It seems like a really selfish thing to say given what these guys had done for me, but I was feeling a little neglected. They were all as friendly as ever, we had as much fun together as ever, and I felt nothing negative from them. I just wasn’t getting any.
More importantly, I was worried that the reason I was not getting the sexual attention I thought I deserved was because I had slept with all three of them and it had created an as yet unseen atmosphere between them. I said they were all still friendly, but was it just an act? Were they a bit too friendly? Were they trying too hard? Did they secretly resent each other because of me?
Of course, it was equally likely that they just weren’t interested. Maybe it hadn’t been as good for them as it had been for me. There was just a hint of something when they looked at me, something that I could only call guilt. They tried to hide it but I saw flickers of it in their eyes. And what else could that guilt come from but the knowledge that they had in some way betrayed their friends. And I was part of that.
None of these thoughts were at the front of my mind and none of them clouded the wonder and brilliance of my grand entrance into L’Age D’Or. The thoughts were there but they could not dull the sounds of chatter and laughter, the spinning of wheels and rolling of dice, the cheers and the groans. They could not mask the heady richness that seemed to ooze over the scene like a molasses of wealth. Everything was luxurious; the seats could not be more plush; the gilt could not be more gold; the waiters could not have been ruder, in that French way that suggests they’re better than you and are fetching your poorly chosen drink on sufferance. It was everything I could have dreamed, and the fact that I was here with the three men of my dreams made it all the more wonderful.
“Everybody know the plan?” checked Campbell, smiling with effortless suavity at every pretty girl who passed.
We all nodded.
“Let’s do this. Everyone should pull off a casino heist once in their lives. It’s a bucket list thing.”
“Yeah,” agreed Drake. “But most people have the sense to steal the money.”
The owner of the casino was a man named Pierre Cinque, a French mob boss, all around nasty piece of work, and amateur art collector.
“It’s strange how many criminal bosses get into art collection,” mused Red. “I can’t tell if it’s a way of legitimizing their business, a way of laundering money, or just that once you’ve got the money, you’ve got to spend it on something and art is what you’re supposed to spend it on. I sort of feel like maybe there was a prototypical mob boss from way back who bought art ‘cause he liked it, and since then everyone has copied him. It’s become ‘what you do’.”
“You think they should spend their money on something else?” asked Drake.
“Wine, women and song might be more fun.”
“It’s a lot of money to spend on wine, women and song.”
Red smiled. “Three things you never get bored of.”
Amongst his art collection, Cinque held a number of ‘primitive’ art objects. Which is the snooty art world term for art created by civilizations who made everyday objects beautiful, rather than chucking paint at a canvas and calling it ‘Melancholic Yellow Opus #6’. One of these items was a sacrificial knife from a south sea island, and it was that which we had come for.
“We have reason to believe,” Campbell had explained to me the day before, “that LeSoeur does not know where the knife is yet.”
“Isn’t there a danger of us leading him to it?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “Absolutely. But what’s the other option? Just leave it where it is and hope he doesn’t find out? The man has resources and sooner or later he’ll find it. Better we take it now while we have the advantage. We’ll have both of the items he needs for the ritual raising of the dead…”
“Plus me.”
“Plus you. So he’s screwed. And with any luck, will give up being a supervillain and will do something else with his life. Maybe become a crossing guard.”
“Isn’t it more likely he’ll embark on some new nefarious scheme?”
Campbell nodded. “Yes. Much more likely. But I believe everyone has the capacity for change. Besides, we prefer to take things one nefarious scheme at a time.”
Cinque lived here in the casino – he presumably had homes elsewhere, but for a man with so many enemies there was no better place to live than a building that was already well-guarded against theft. His art collection was housed in the upper floors of the building, but getting there would not be easy. It certainly could not be achieved by brute force, it needed subtly and style. It needed Campbell.
As he peeled off to go to the bar, Red, Drake and I hit the tables, creating a stir wherever we went. Partly that was because we looked pretty impressive – the epitome of glamor. But mainly it was because the guys were throwing down money like it meant nothing. The croupiers, pit bosses and other personnel were soon paying us particular attention. They didn’t mind as long as we were losing – and losing big – in fact, they encouraged it, but they sensed that something was in the air. Which was fine as far as we were concerned.
I let my eyes drift from the cards for a moment over to the bar where Campbell was chatting to a very beautiful woman. It’s funny how twenty-six can suddenly feel ancient when you’re watching a man you like making eyes at a girl of no more than twenty, with tits that might bust out of her dress any moment, and a slit that ran up the side of her dress so far that it almost reached her armpit. Her name, I knew, was Cecile Cinque, she was the daughter of Pierre Cinque, and I hated her on sight.
It was at the craps table – possibly they call it something else in France – that our luck changed. That seemed to frustrate the many casino officials who were now watching with less subtlety than before. If you get lucky at blackjack then maybe you are card-counting or similar – there are ways to beat the house. But craps is a dice game; unless you swap out the dice then it is pure luck. I noticed the man running things change the dice more than once as Red rang up win after win, breaking a new packet every time. It defied logic – you can’t cheat at a game like that.
Or at least, you’re not supposed to be able to.
“How does it work?” I had asked Red, as he showed me the contraption that had been delivered along with our clothing and a large sum of money.
“No idea,” said Red conversationally. “The tech boys are absolute wizards with this sort of thing. We try to go as gadget-light as we can. If you start relying on gadgets too much then you lose the skills when they get broken. Besides, it spoils the fun. But some missions you need the laws of physics to be bent in your favor.”
Drake was a little more forthcoming, in that he had read the instruction booklet that came with it. “The outcome of a dice roll is a factor of how they land versus the surface they land on – no way of changing that. But the dice used by casinos are made of a substance that will react to sound waves of a certain frequency. Everything in the world can be affected by sound waves at the right frequency. During the roll, I activate this and it sends micro-pulses of focused sound that keep the dice moving until they reach the numbers I want. Then I stop pressing the button.”
“That sounds like science fiction,” I commented.
“It does a bit, doesn’t it?”
Science fiction or not, it worked. Red rolled the dice and Drake, leaning over the table, operated the device that was disguised to look like a wristwatch, getting seven or eleven every time.
Of course, regardless of how subtle is the method of cheating, if you keep getting a winning score then the casino guys know you are cheating. They just don’t know how. This wasn’t a problem for us. We weren’t looking to break the bank and walk away with a big win, we weren’t trying to put one over on them without them knowing, we were just causing a distraction. And cheating in a way they couldn’t fathom was definitely doing that. The crowd of people around the table was growing. Every se
curity cam in the vicinity turned to stare at us, hoping that from a different angle they might be able to see how we were doing this. Every guard, pit boss and employee of the casino began to hover, knowing that the time would come when we had to be thrown out, and noting that, based on the looks of Red and Drake, it would not be easy.
And somewhere, in amongst this ever-increasing melee, Campbell headed off with Cecile Cinque in the direction of her bedroom. No one saw them go but me. I shouldn’t have been looking, if anyone had noticed that would have been bad. But I couldn’t help myself. It had been almost a week since I had slept with Campbell and I had slept with both of his friends since then, and he knew that. I had absolutely no right to feel jealous about him going off with another girl. I knew that this was part of the job; seducing women to save the world was something Campbell had to do from time to time. He didn’t have to like it – although, knowing Campbell, he probably did – there wasn’t any emotion involved, it was a professional thing. But even knowing all that, I could not stop the stabs of jealousy that pierced my guts.
He was my man.
So was Red, of course, and Drake.
And although I identified them all as my men, I had no long-term plans around them. When my vacation was over – such as it was – I would never see them again. I certainly wouldn’t have attached the word ‘relationship’ to something so purely sexual.
That was what I told myself. But it wasn’t purely sexual. Not for me and I thought, or perhaps just hoped, not for the guys, either. It had been meant to be no more than a bit of fun, and neither for me nor for them could it ever possibly work in the real world, but I had accidentally become attached to them. Awesome sex is one thing but when it’s with awesome guys then it’s hard to let them go. My world seemed better and brighter for their being in it.
I knew it couldn’t last, I knew I had no claim to them, I knew that their lives and mine did not mix, but my emotions knew none of that, and as I watched Campbell enter a private elevator with his latest conquest, my heart broke.
Her Shadow Harem: A Paranormal Reverse Harem Romance Page 10
