Eyes Wide Open

by Lucy Felthouse

  Her attention remained on the bed as it became apparent that there was movement from that area. Two bare feet appeared, two calves, two thighs, a delicious naked arse. Pausing briefly to push through the shock, she observed that limited view for a couple of seconds longer, before moving over the threshold and taking in the scene in its entirety.

  As her brain processed the information her eyes were feeding to it, several emotions hit her at once—understanding, relief, confusion, surprise…and arousal.

  Frozen to the spot, unable and, if she was honest, unwilling to move, Fiona watched, open-mouthed, as James and Logan’s so-called nefarious activity played out right in front of her. Only it wasn’t nefarious at all. It was beautiful, stunning, and knicker-wettingly hot. So hot it probably should have been illegal…but definitely wasn’t.

  James was naked, face down on the large bed, his arms and legs spread, each limb bound to the nearest corner post using what looked like black silky rope. Logan loomed over him, also naked, with an ominous-looking black whip thing in his hand. It had a thick handle, with lots of stringy pieces coming out of it. With a regularity of rhythm clearly born of practice, he brought the strings down on James’ backside with a thwack. Then again, and again. Not just on his bottom, either. Blows landed on his shoulders, his sides, his back, his thighs. His skin was pink and fast turning red.

  As the pieces of the jigsaw in Fiona’s head fit together with a resounding clunk, she found that, once again, although some questions had been answered, what was unfolding right before her eyes raised many more. Ones she knew wouldn’t be answered for a while yet.

  After all, it couldn’t possibly be good manners to interrupt someone getting whipped in order to assuage one’s curiosity, could it? And, if she was honest with herself, she didn’t want to interrupt—far from it. She wanted to watch, and find out what happened next. Was this just some kinky pain thing, or would they have sex, too?

  Chapter Twelve

  Continuing to drink in the supremely erotic sight before her, Fiona was lulled into a kind of trance by the repetitive motion of the blows Logan was laying on James. She had next to no knowledge about whipping or bondage, but she was learning on the fly. The most obvious thing was that both men were deeply into what they were doing.

  Since she’d appeared in the doorway—though neither of them had acknowledged her presence, she sensed they knew she was there—Logan had gradually increased the force of his blows. Probably he hadn’t wanted James to make too much noise until she saw for herself what was happening. Hearing sounds wouldn’t have been enough. As Logan had said, she needed to see. But now, there was nothing to stop James screaming until his lungs exploded—hence the need for the soundproofing.

  And the noises. They were just as arousing as the sights. Logan was letting loose the odd grunt and groan, and every now and again she heard a heavy exhalation of breath, as though he was breathing deeply. Exertion, or trying to keep a handle on his emotions and physical reactions? Possibly all of the above.

  James, on the other hand, was creating a cacophony. As he wriggled and jerked on the Egyptian cotton bedding, he moaned, gasped, yelped and growled. But above all, he begged.

  “Please,” she heard him say, his voice muffled by the duvet. “Please, Sir. Harder. Harder.”

  Fiona herself gasped as Logan acquiesced. He raised his muscular arm high, gripping the implement, then brought it down with such speed and force that it whooped through the air before landing on James’ backside, which was now criss-crossed with angry-looking red lines.

  With a shout, James bucked into the mattress, then, apparently enjoying the sensation, did it again.

  “Hey,” Logan said, pinching James’ left buttock. “None of that, please. You’ll come when I say—and no sooner.”

  “S-sorry, Sir. I just—”

  “I know exactly what you just. You’ll have to wait. But not for long, because I need to fuck that tight hole of yours.”

  One of Fiona’s questions, at least, had been answered. They were lovers, too. She’d suspected as much on seeing them like this, but given how wrong she’d already gotten the situation, she’d forbidden herself from jumping to any further conclusions.

  But now she couldn’t help wondering why everything that had gone before, everything that had caused her to be standing here now, had happened. Checking she was okay in the restaurant after her little coughing fit, fine. That was just what any decent person would have done. But to approach her in the bar, ask her to come and drink and chat with them, then proceed to flirt with her…? What was that all about? She had nothing to offer them, either professionally or intellectually, and certainly not physically. She didn’t have the right equipment, after all.

  Shaking her head, she chastised herself for getting it so wrong. Maybe it had been the alcohol. She hadn’t had all that much, but enough to relax her, to give her a nice buzz, so perhaps that was why she’d thought they were interested in her in that way. How utterly ridiculous. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  Deciding that it was time to leave—she’d seen what they’d wanted to show her, and she was now surplus to requirements—she allowed herself a couple more seconds to commit the delicious image before her to memory. She’d never really thought about what it would be like to see two men making love, but she had overwhelming firsthand experience now and had reached the conclusion that it was the most sensual, erotic thing she’d ever seen. And they hadn’t even gotten properly started, yet.

  Since declaring his intentions, Logan had discarded the whip thing, then crawled up to the head of the bed—giving her an amazing view of his flexing backside, and the thick, heavy cock visible between his thighs—and retrieved a small bottle from the top drawer of the bedside cabinet. Scooting back down, he knelt between James’ spread legs, flipped the lid of the bottle—which she could now see was lube—and held out the first and index fingers of his right hand.

  Fiona backed away. It was time to go. She’d seen enough. They’d made their point. They were doing nothing wrong, and she now had plenty of fantasy fodder to last a lifetime. Staying any longer would be an intrusion of privacy, she felt. That, and she was already in danger of spontaneously combusting. Any more of this, and she’d be forced to pull up her dress, stick her hand inside her knickers and stroke her clit, which was already aching for attention. Her pussy lips also felt terribly swollen, and a veritable lake was forming in her underwear.

  Thankful that she had a private apartment she could hurry back to in order to spend some time alone with her battery-operated boyfriend and give herself some much-needed relief, she took another step back and turned to walk toward the door.

  She’d barely gone two steps when a hand grasping her wrist made her squeal. Spinning back around, she was faced with a full-frontal view of Logan. And, as was to be expected, he was still fully aroused. Forcing her gaze to his face and fighting hard to keep it there, she said, “What? I’m leaving. I think I’ve seen enough.” She tugged out of his grip. “You said I could leave any time and that you wouldn’t try to stop me.”

  He held his hands up—apparently a trait of his—and replied, “Yes, you’re right. And I would never attempt to keep you here against your will. But I wondered, we wondered, if perhaps you’d like to…stay?”

  “What the hell for? You’ve made your point. I get it now. I don’t need to stick around and watch any more.”

  “We don’t want you to stay so you can watch.” A tiny frown line appeared between his dark eyebrows. “We want you to join in.”

  “What?” she squeaked, then cleared her throat. “Me? But I’m…” Unable to make herself state the obvious, she glanced down at herself.

  Logan’s frown deepened. “You’re what? Utterly gorgeous? Wearing a dress? Look, if you’re not, um…interested in us, that’s absolutely fine. But we kinda got the impression you were. And we’re definitely interested in you. I mean, what red-blooded male wouldn’t be?”

  Fiona pinched the bridg
e of her nose, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. Then, taking a deep breath and releasing it, she said, “Are you trying to tell me you’re both into girls, as well as each other?”

  “Is that so unbelievable?”

  Opening her mouth, Fiona realized that she didn’t know what to say. Was it so unbelievable? The way they’d acted around her, the fact that she hadn’t gotten the gay vibe from them at all, at least until she’d walked in on them butt naked on the bed.

  “No,” she eventually said. “I guess not. And I do think you’re both very attractive. Don’t get me wrong, but I don’t know if I’m into all…that…you know.”

  “The flogging?” Logan chuckled. “That’s fine, sweetheart. Not a problem. It’s not for everyone. Sure, if you want to try it out, I’ll be more than happy to oblige, but you just want to indulge in some good old-fashioned fucking with the two of us, we’ll both be happy to oblige.”

  “Both?” Her brain hadn’t gotten that far ahead. It was having a busy time of it. One minute she’d been drinking with a couple of sexy guys she’d have happily slept with. The next she’d wanted to get as far away from them as possible as she’d thought they were criminals. And now, she had discovered that they were lovers, played kinky games together, they liked girls, and they both wanted to have sex with her…at the same time.

  Rubbing at her temples, she looked Logan in the eye, and wasn’t entirely surprised to see amusement glinting there. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice laden with sarcasm, “I’m having a little trouble keeping up. So I’ve a few options available here, from what I can gather. I can still leave. Or I can join in with your…flogging. Finally, I can have some good old-fashioned sex with both of you.” She paused. “Presumably, if I wanted to, I could just have sex with one of you?”

  Raising his eyebrows, Logan gave a shrug. “Yes, of course.” His expression turned wicked, and his blue eyes were full of mischief and promise. “But we both know you won’t go for that option.”

  “Oh? And why’s that?”

  With a snort, he replied, “Because you’re attracted to both of us. So why on earth would you settle for just one of us? One man, a single portion of pleasure—albeit extreme pleasure—or two men, double the pleasure, double the hands, the mouths, the tongues, the hands, the cocks… I think you get the idea. Come on, Fiona.” He held out his hand. “What’s it to be? Only I can’t leave poor James lying there like that for much longer. And I’m in need of some relief myself.”

  Unable to stop herself now, Fiona raked her gaze down Logan’s body—a delicious example, and one she could happily stare at all day long—and stopped at his crotch. Even throughout their conversation, his cock had remained erect. Standing proud from its nest of well-groomed dark hair, it curved up toward his belly button, long and swollen, looking mouthwateringly good. A huge part of Fiona wanted to drop to her knees on the thick carpet and take it into her mouth.

  Instead, she took the proffered hand and allowed Logan to lead her back to the bedroom, where James remained spread-eagled, face down on the mattress.

  Escorting her to a chair beside the bed, Logan indicated that she should take a seat. “Be with you in two ticks, gorgeous.”

  As if to emphasize his point, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. An all-too-brief kiss that was warm and sensual, that did nothing to whet her appetite and everything to make her want another, much longer kiss, and much more besides.

  “Change of plan, baby,” Logan said, aiming his words at James as he moved to the nearest corner of the bed to untie the restraints. “Looks like we’ve got a guest for the evening.”

  Turning his head so he could look at her, James smiled. “Excellent news. I’m glad to hear it. S’been a while since we had a girl in bed with us. I’m already looking forward to sucking on those nipples, caressing those delicious tits of yours and eating your pussy—”

  He stopped abruptly when Logan landed a sharp smack on his arse cheek. “Oi, enough of that. As much as I agree with what you’re saying, you don’t want to scare our guest off before we’ve even begun, do you? She took a little persuading.” He turned a smile onto Fiona, then addressed her, “We’re kinda fond of dirty talk, I’m afraid. Like some of our other favored activities, though we know it’s not for everyone.”

  Fiona shrugged. “It’s all right. You go ahead. I have no idea how this works, so I guess I’ll have to go with the flow, be led by you guys.” She paused, nibbling on her bottom lip. “I don’t suppose I could get myself a drink, could I? The booze from earlier has most definitely worn off, and I could do with a bit of Dutch courage.”

  “Certainly not,” Logan shot back, releasing James from the last restraint, then immediately pulling the man close and rubbing at his ankles and wrists in turn, presumably to make sure he was okay. “If you could give me a moment to attend to James, I’ll get you a drink. I’d like one, and I’m sure James would, too. But, just to be absolutely clear on this, it’ll be one drink, and one drink only. I understand you might be a little nervous—though I assure you, you have no need to be. We’ll take the best possible care of you—but I want you fully in control of all your faculties. Including, most importantly, your capacity to say no. If you want out at any point or you change your mind, you speak up. All right?”

  For fuck’s sake! He’d spent all this time persuading her what a good time she’d have with the two of them, and now he was trying to talk her out of it? She wished he’d make his bloody mind up.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Fiona.” Logan’s tone was firm, commanding. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Stifling a sigh, she said, “Yes, I understand. I just don’t get why you’re trying to talk me out of it.”

  Giving James a brief kiss on the lips before releasing him, Logan stood. Shaking his head, and flashing her a wry smile, he said, “Are you frigging insane? I am certainly not trying to talk you out of it. I’m just making absolutely sure this is what you want, that’s all. Despite your earlier comment, I am a gentleman—well, most of the time, anyway. Once you’re naked and in bed with the two of us, I make no promises.”

  As he turned on his heel—still gloriously naked—and strode out into the main room, she watched him go, the arousal that had been ebbing and flowing for goodness knew how long now flaring up again, big style. Logan and James were just so…affecting. Handsome, yes. Well dressed, yes. Intelligent, yes. But more than that, they had a confidence that was very attractive and, in Logan’s case, not a small amount of arrogance. But she supposed that was what made him such a good businessman.

  Movement from the huge bed snagged her attention, and she turned to look at James, who’d rolled over onto his back and was settled against the mountain of pillows at the head of the bed. He gave her a lazy smile, and she returned it innocently before realizing what he was doing. His movements were so slow, so languorous that she hadn’t noticed he’d fisted his still-erect cock and was stroking it.

  She shouldn’t have been surprised, though. She had, after all, managed to disrupt their almost-sex by making to leave, causing Logan to stop her. Both men had been aroused for some time now and hadn’t—unless she’d missed it while still in the main room of the suite—climaxed. A small part of her felt sorry for them, but a much bigger part thought they deserved it for treating her to such torment. She, too, had been on a slow burn—since Logan had approached her in the bar, in fact—so they were all in the same predicament. It was a nice touch that they’d all be getting off together very soon. Hopefully.

  Her pussy and clit throbbed almost painfully as she continued to watch James touch himself. Dutch courage or not, the temptation to strip off her clothes, jump onto the bed and sink that luscious cock inside her grew stronger by the second. She was sure it’d fill her nicely, stretch her, stroke her in all the right places and, ultimately, make her come. And that was before she even took into consideration any kissing, any foreplay and the fact that there were two of them.

  A tall, dark
and gorgeous reminder came into the room just as she arrived at that thought, his large hands skillfully carrying three drinks. He crossed over to Fiona first. “Yours is the nearest one to you,” he said, lifting his arms toward her. “A gin and tonic, no ice, like earlier. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Yes, thank you.” Removing the glass carefully from his grip so as not to cause him to drop the others, she took a sip, once again savoring the gentle burn and buzz that followed. Reluctantly—though she kept the information to herself—she agreed that Logan was right. A little bit of Dutch courage was okay, but if she was going to do this—which she absolutely was—she wasn’t insane, after all—then she didn’t want to be totally plastered. Why have an amazing experience like a threesome with two gorgeous guys, but be so drunk that she couldn’t remember a damn thing? No—just a smidge of booze, enough to stop her being a Nervous Nellie, was fine. She also knew, somehow, that if she was to get totally plastered, neither man would do anything with her, anyway. Now she understood them a bit better, she realized that they were, in fact, complete gentlemen.

  Except, as Logan had so sexily and seductively reminded her, when it came to being naked and in bed, all three of them. A wave of arousal crashed through her, further increasing the swollen, aching need between her thighs and making her knickers even wetter. God, she hoped the reality lived up to the fantasy.

  She had a sneaking suspicion that it would.

  By now, Logan had walked back over to the bed, perched on the edge and handed James his drink. They sat together in a companionable silence, quenching their thirst. A few moments later, having placed his now-empty glass on the bedside table, Logan got to his feet and said, “Okay, I’m going to go and use the bathroom. Then, unless anyone has any objections, I’d quite like to have some more fun.” He fixed his gaze on Fiona. “No more interruptions.”