RopeMeIn

by Cerise DeLand

  Lovely words. She’d been so used to silent, perfunctory sex that she tingled with Jed’s order. Eager, she spread her thighs so far, they dangled over the sides of the chaise, her toes skimming the warm tiles of the floor. She could feel his breath on her sensitive skin. She whimpered, feral with desire for him. Hell, she could even inhale the sweet aromas of her cream and his body scent as they mingled. She wanted him so badly.

  And yet, all he did was draw a fingertip down her slit. “You have the fattest lips, baby.”

  She had wanted conversation in bed, she now had it. And she was oh so ready to give it back. “Because I’m ready for you. Want you. Wanted you since I was a teenager with more hormones than sense. I even wanted you last week when we shook hands in the feed store.”

  “Should’ve told me then.” He barked in laughter while he did a very serious maneuver with two thick fingers up inside her cunt. She arched her pelvis, reveling in his tenderness. “I wanted to strip you there, but Colt Stanley wouldn’t have approved of the display in his aisles.”

  “Hmmm, I don’t know about Colt. Word is he’s adventurous. Likes more than one woman in bed with him. And to tell the truth—” She gasped as Jed stroked her G-spot.

  “Yeah?” Jed urged her with a wicked lopsided grin, never letting up his deft massage of her sensitive core. “What’s the truth?”

  “Exhibitionism kind of appeals to me.”

  “Oh boy. What have we got here. A woman with guts.” He chuckled as he shifted nearer and dropped kisses along her throat. “Not wild about showing you off to other men though. Not for a long time.”

  “Possession is nine tenths of the law?” She writhed as he massaged her labia with his full hand.

  “Want to please you and keep you a long time.”

  “Do that and you will,” she breathed, sinking her fingers in his hair, smelling his shampoo and his soap as he slid lower.

  He grinned up at her, his mouth such a hot, handsome thing. “Need your lips in my mouth.”

  “Oh yes. Have me.”

  He winked at her, bent, and with fingers to either of her plump lips, rolled her open. “Sweetie, you are sopping wet for me.” Then he sent his tongue all along one labia, from clit to perineum.

  She vibrated with bliss.

  “The other? Shall I do the other?” he teased her.

  Eyes clamped shut, she was paralyzed in sexual joy. “If not, I think I’ll have to kill you.”

  He chuckled. One hand to her stomach, he pushed her flat to the chaise and rolled open her pussy lips again. This time, he took his sweet pleasure, savoring, tasting, swirling over her hot skin, driving her slowly mad with how he nibbled and sucked.

  But he never touched her clit. And that was how she came, always. In a grinding state of near-climax, she tilted up her hips and urged him on. “Please, more of that.”

  He ate her labia, nipping her and tracing his hot, rough tongue over her.

  “No!” she fumed at him, then reached down to roll open her pussy to show him her clit. “Lick me here.”

  He shoved two fingers inside her channel and she bucked her hips off the chaise. “You want to get off?”

  “Um. Yes, I do.”

  “Then we do it my way. My timing.”

  “No!” She cuffed him. That way he could take everything, quickly, leave her with nothing. She wouldn’t lose like that again to any man.

  He caught her hand, forced it to the chaise. “Listen to me well. You belong to me for this moment. I take. You enjoy.”

  She thrashed, but he could not be thrown off.

  He gripped her by the hips, spread her thighs wide, hoisted one leg up over his shoulder and proceeded to devour her cunt with the most succulent, devastating sips and bites and teases of his lips and teeth. She writhed and he gave her more. She twitched and he drove his tongue more deeply inside her. She creamed and screamed in awe and need and outrage, and he drove two thick fingers inside her to massage her in some wild way, new and luscious to her. At once, the urge to orgasm, always and only when she had tapped and plucked and tickled her own clit, came over her like the storm that raged and lashed outside. She pulsed around his fingers, her body thrilling with the fulfillment and finally drifting to a lull.

  That madness was what she had wanted for years with a man. Delight bubbled inside her at what she’d tasted here with Jed.

  She lifted a lazy hand to his hair. He had slid up, watching her, his jade eyes rich with elation, his slashing mouth moist with her cream.

  She cupped his chin and rose up to kiss his devastating lips, once, twice. She relished the taste of herself on him. “Come inside me. I want to do for you what you did for me.”

  He grinned, stood and discarded shirt, belt, jeans and oh god, no underwear. He’d been commando at the supper table. And as she sat up straight, her wet pussy, so well eaten and loved by him and probably ruining the linen upholstery, she faced his long, red hard cock and cooed. “Jed, sweetie. I must help you work on this.”

  He palmed himself, offering his thick rod to her. “Got any ideas?”

  “I do, I do.” She shifted nearer, then looked up at him, her tongue moistening her lower lip. “I want to show you my appreciation. Like you did for me.”

  She squirmed, her impossibly demanding pussy aching to take him inside her and show them both a good time. But what could she do for him?

  She reached out and cupped his heavy balls. Christ, he was firmly packed. Beautiful. Could she kiss these? She would. She extended her hand to his cock and traced a blue vein with a fingertip. She wiggled closer and rubbed her thumb over his slit. He was already dripping with want of her.

  She smiled up at him and wiggled in delight. Some instinct told her she had to ask for what she could have from him. “Can I take you in my mouth? Do you like that?”

  “You can. And I do.”

  As she moved to do just that, he put a finger to the corner of her mouth. “Ever done this before?”

  Sheepish, she met his gaze and shook her head. “Yes, though I might not be very good, I have a will to practice often.”

  He traced a knuckle over her bottom lip. “Oh you’ll be great, baby.”

  Suddenly, she felt miserable. “You can’t know.”

  “You have talent. And desire. That’s what you need to succeed, sweetheart.”

  “Are we…um…supposed to do it with a condom?”

  “No, I’m clean. Had a test last year and haven’t been with any woman since. Same for Harry and Will.” He put a tender hand under her chin and inched his body closer, his big, handsome cock a breath away. “Take me, Cara. Suck me.”

  “If I don’t do it right, you’ll…tell me? Teach me how?”

  “You bet I will. I’ll give you anything you want, baby. Do what you want with me.”

  She had never had a man offer himself up like that. Never.

  She trembled so with delight, she saw her breasts sway and felt her skin get prickly and hot. Shifting nearer to his big purple head, she stroked the length of his cock with her hand, then put her mouth over his helmet. She tasted him, sweet, salty and musky. She grinned to herself, then up at him. His eyes were half-lidded, his hands on his hips. Had she ever thought a man could be so patient, so giving? Never.

  She sank over him, taking all of him in her mouth. He was impossibly long but hard, his skin pliant but beneath, iron. She licked his length, swirling her lips over his tip, holding it and sending the flat of her tongue along his slit. He bucked, one hand to her hair. She drew forth more pre-cum, delicious stuff. She wanted more and coaxed it from him. He groaned, his hips flexing, his thighs bunching, rigid but restrained as if he were a beast in the jungle. Her beast. His jungle. She grinned and kissed his slit sweetly. Rolling his sac, she stroked him, long even adorations of his massive rod. She sucked him, licked him, drew on him until he groaned and put a hand to her cheek.

  “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

  “Never, baby. You just have to lie back.”

&
nbsp; She pushed herself back onto the chaise immediately, her thighs open, her arms wide. “Like this?”

  He chuckled. “Your enthusiasm overwhelms me.”

  “Not too much that you can’t continue, I hope.”

  He bent to kiss her. “Hell, baby, you suck like a witch. You could ruin a man.”

  Could I ruin you? For me?

  And why? Why would you want him?

  She leaned up on one elbow, watching him, learning about herself. I’d want him for the fun of sex. The dirty talk. The intensity.

  He walked to the sink counter, opened a cabinet drawer, took out a condom package and tore it. Dressing himself for their party, he laughed lightly as he came to her on the chaise, sat, then bent, kissed her nipple and hauled her legs up over his forearms. “Still wet for me?”

  Still besotted by you. Sure. “How will I ever go dry?”

  The two of them were chuckling like kids as he drove himself inside her and came to one searing, smoldering, stunning halt.

  “Jesus,” he shot out, his cock now balls-deep inside her.

  “Oh sweetie,” she heard her own voice and swore she sounded ten years younger. Giddy, madly in love with raunchy sex with Jed MacRae, she felt filled to the top of her cunt, to her begging breasts. Damn, she was filled to her eyeballs! “You are the finest man I’ve ever had.”

  He moved inside her, watching her face, ramming her, gazing at her pussy as she took him inside her cunt and never wanted to let him go. “There are more where this came from.”

  * * * * *

  More men where this came from. That had been his implication.

  “Unmistakable,” she told herself as she fastened the buttons on her white shirt the next morning. “Shall I pinch myself with my good fortune now or do I wake up from a really risqué dream?”

  Go with the good fortune version.

  Yeah. But how? Without experience in how to handle one highly sexed man, she was skeptical she could handle more. She gazed at herself in the mirrors on the wall of the guest bedroom. Like the bathroom, the place was enormous and sported a huge circular bed in the middle of the room. The bed too stood atop a dais. Two walls of the room were nothing but floor-to-ceiling mirrors. And the linens on the bed were pale earth tones in the finest, softest thread count, the pillows—numerous, sumptuous downy things in all kinds of interesting shapes.

  She licked her lips, trying to focus on what she had to do now to face these three men. Jed in particular. God in heaven. She closed her eyes. How they had made love. Twice more. Once against the wall of the shower, the warm water insistent and thrilling on her open pussy as he filled her up again with his talented cock. Then he’d dried her off, a towel around her hair, and pulled her into this room. Here she’d had little time or inclination to notice the appointments because of his desire to eat her juicy, greedy cunt once more and then fuck her until they both fell asleep.

  She shivered in remembrance of the hours wrapped in his arms, her naked ass against his body, spooned like familiar lovers. Her nipples rose and puckered at the recollections. Her channel gushed with need.

  How could that be?

  You’re sated, that’s why. By a man. And when were you ever? Jeff never bothered to try to help you reach exhausted bliss.

  But this man made love as though he had all the time in the world. And knew all the ways to make her come.

  So of course you’re enthralled.

  Her fingers drifted to the crotch of her jeans. And I want more.

  Time to go home. Time to figure out if I can risk my emotions again.

  She whirled for the door, the hallway and the big kitchen.

  The storm had abated to a constant drum of rain on the roof. But the kitchen was bright with the glow of the fire in the hearth, the gold and white granite countertops, the rich, dark rosewood of the cabinets and only one man pouring himself coffee.

  “Morning.” Harry turned as she walked toward him. “How are you?”

  How to answer that one? He had to know that his brother had fucked her brains out all night long, so how could she look him in the eye without being embarrassed?

  But his friendly expression told her that he was only being congenial. That eased her worries and her shyness. With a toss of her hair back from her shoulders, she smiled at him and took note of how yummy he looked this morning. He had on a yellow and white plaid work shirt and jeans, both of which accented his baby-blue eyes, his hunky bronze tan and his shining black hair that again was caught in a strip of rawhide down his back. Her mouth watered.

  How could she want him too?

  This is crazy. You’re becoming a horny slut, kid. Too long without a good lay and you’re ready to open your thighs for another man within hours of having his brother?

  Harry reached over and lifted her chin. “What’s the matter, darlin’? No need to be scared. We’re going as slowly as you want.”

  At his use of the word “we”, she nearly squeaked with excitement and awkwardness. What to do? Hope that the implications of Harry’s and later Jed’s words last night were a valid offer to be every man’s partner? Ignore it? Finesse for the first, cut my losses and never look back if I’m wrong? Or I fail to please one? “Where is everyone else?”

  “The storm washed out the road into town and that means our lower pastures are under water. Jed and Will went down to see if any of our herd needs to be driven out of the flood zone. They’ll be back, but god knows when. I was able to tow your pickup to the maintenance barn, but I haven’t looked at the damage yet.”

  “Ah, thanks for that. Are the phones working?”

  “Spotty. Give it a go though.”

  “I will.” Where the hell was her purse? Oh swell. In the truck. “Do you mind if I use your landline?”

  “Go ahead. But I called your Aunt Bree for you about an hour ago. She’s happy you’re here and well.”

  “Thank you. Was she worried?”

  “She said no. When she saw that you had taken our two boxes from the supply room, she figured you had come here and hoped you arrived before any flooding.”

  “Hmm. I’ll call the senior center too, to tell them I can’t make it in for my volunteer day.”

  “What do you say to coffee? Shall I pour you a cup?”

  “Please.” She cast her eyes to his hands, large but deft. The fingers long, the nails short, his skin a deep tan. A dusting of dark hair on the back. Gentle, agile. Would he use them on her? Her breasts. Her nipples. Jed hadn’t touched them much last night, concentrating on her pussy, her G-spot and finally—she shuddered in remembrance—her clit. Her breasts filled in the skimpy little French bra, her skin abraded by the constraint. God almighty, all of her ached for this man’s touch. “Cream?”

  He noticed her eyes on him and paused mid-pour. “Sure. Got it. Half and half?” He strode to the refrigerator.

  “Yes.”

  “Here you go.”

  She busied herself with her mug, took a large sip and closed her eyes. “I love my coffee in the morning. Can’t think without it. Unusual twist. How did you make it?”

  “Regular Colombian. I put in a dash of cardamom. Adds flavor. Come sit down. Hungry?”

  Taking a chair at the table, she glanced at him through her lashes and wondered if he was asking her deeper questions about how she liked making love to his brother. “Very.”

  “I can make you eggs. Bacon? Toast?”

  “Cereal is good.”

  “Aw, come on, darlin’.”

  She stiffened as he put a big, warm hand on her shoulder. “It‘s cold outside this morning. And you need something to stick to your ribs. You went through a lot yesterday.”

  She nearly choked on her coffee. “You mean­—”

  “Now, now.” He kneaded her shoulders and she went with the power and sensuousness in his hands. “You are stiff. Sore too?”

  She made a little sound of agreement and rubbed her labia against the wood of the chair. Why, oh why was she not satisfied with Jed? Why did s
he want Harry too?

  Because he is spontaneous. A complement, a foil to his older brother.

  “I can help you feel better.” He leaned down, his gruff voice against her ear, his breath on her skin and her desire rising like a floodtide. “Let me feed you.”

  “Okay.” She tipped her head and smiled at him. So close, my god, so close, she made love to his blue bedroom eyes.

  “Eggs?”

  She stared at him, dumb as a stone for a second. “Un-huh. Two. Scrambled.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  Could I want to be Harry’s girl too? Maybe Will’s?

  Her nipples poked at her silken bra. Her pussy soaked her panties. All in agreement, say aye!

  “Good. You’re smiling,” he remarked as he patted her shoulders and began to make her breakfast. “Tell me about what’s in the box.”

  Happy for the topic of business, she described her add-on to her Aunt Bree’s clothing shop on Main Street. “Knickers will concentrate on lingerie and be a nice mesh with the current merchandise. But eventually, Aunt Bree hopes I’ll take over the management. She wants to step back, have more time to grow her flowers.”

  “And smell them too, eh?” he joked as he cracked eggs in a bowl.

  “Right. She wants to ease out of the business and travel more. And since she has no children, she and I have come to an agreement that I will gradually buy her out. When I came back to town to visit last fall, she made the offer. I looked over the shop, her stock and her balance sheets and that’s when I decided to add fine European lingerie to her offerings. She agreed that Bravado’s women would love the sophisticated styles.”

  “Yep. There is a call for sexy lingerie wherever females roam.”

  She frowned into her coffee cup. “I worried at first that there just weren’t enough women in town to support a new expensive line like that, but I took a look at the wealth in the town, the real estate, the per capita income and education levels and such, and decided that this might just work.”

  “I think so. We might not have as many women here as men, but we do have money. A damn lot of it.”

  “I thought I’d supplement whatever I sell in the store with an online shop. That way, American women can have their silks and satins more quickly than ordering from Paris or Milan. And I’ll make Knickers unique by offering discounts with each purchase. Five percent off on every one hundred dollars, ten percent off when a customer orders two hundred dollars’ worth or more. That way I’ll stand out from my competitors here in the States who offer the same goods as I do online.”