Regan [The Sisters O'Ryan 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Jenna Stewart

  Streaks of her moisture marked his leg. A sense of passionate inevitability stole over her, driving her senselessly forward. She sucked, tugged, pulled, and rubbed, bucking his leg like a bronco while giving all the pleasure she could with her mouth. It proved too much. A giant climax exploded over her like fireworks over the French Broad River on New Year’s Eve. At the same moment, Hay lifted her from his cock. With a cloth he found somewhere, he covered his erection and stroked with his hand a few times, then gasped.

  They lay like that for several minutes, she with her head on his stomach, while the world rocked back into its orbit and their breathing returned to normal.

  Hay stroked her hair. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, having no strength to speak. Lethargy settled over her, and she wanted nothing more than to sleep. Hay’s chuckle rumbled in her ear. “Come here,” he said, and as though she weighed nothing, he pulled her up over him, her legs straddling his, her head below his chin. She barely registered that he covered them with a sheet before she drifted to sleep.

  In the past twenty-four hours she had felt the best in all her life. And this was just the beginning.

  Half-asleep, Regan struggled to open her eyes and then gave up. She lay on gently moving sand that quaked beneath her naked body. A snake slithered up her thigh and tentatively explored the crease of her ass before a wave lifted her. Then somehow the snake found its way to her woman’s place. He rubbed his head along her lips, quickening her breath and bringing forth her moisture. A burst of anticipatory pleasure burst in her belly, and she wriggled her butt and brought up her knees, inviting him to probe her depths.

  She shouldn’t. The snake—the serpent—represented sin. She should resist with everything in her. Unfortunately for her soul, all that filled her was desire. The snake found her passage and slid in, riding her moisture. Firm hands grasped her butt, massaging her cheeks and lifting her, pushing her, screwing her back down onto the snake, which had come alive inside her.

  “Regan?” Hay’s sleepy voice penetrated the fog of her mind, and she came awake. “Sweetheart, you’re so hot, so good and hot on my dick.”

  She smiled. The snake was all Hay. She nibbled his shoulders and took over raising and lowering her hips. He helped her sit up. She spread her knees as wide as possible and felt the base of his cock meet her clitoris. All of him, she held all of him. Instead of rising and falling, she moved her hips in tiny circles. He reached to palm her breasts, pulling her nipples and pinching, sending out minute shards of pain to mix with the intense pleasure radiating from her pussy. Regan felt behind her for his scrotum. Slight pressure elicited a moan from Hay. He moved one hand from her breasts to tickle her clitoris.

  “Say something dirty to me,” Hay whispered.

  Normally she wouldn’t have said anything, lying under Davey and trying to match the rhythm of his lovemaking. But here in the pitch blackness, striding Hay’s hips and with the serpent deep inside, nothing could be more appropriate than saying something to fit the mood. “I don’t think I know how.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll teach you. For instance, do you like having me inside you?” He punched his hips for effect, sending her into the air and back down on his spear.

  “Very much.”

  “Then try saying this. ‘I love having your dick up my cunt.’”

  Heat infused her cheeks. Davey had said something about his “cock” and her “cunt” once or twice, but always to her when he was finishing, not as part of her desire. He never gave her the control, either, in position or in verbalizing her desires.

  “Go ahead,” he said, insinuating his thumb between them and stroking her pussy. “It’s just us.”

  Shivers of delight skittered up her spine. “I love it,” she said and meant it. He stroked harder. She gasped and moved her hips across his thumb.

  “What do you love?”

  “You. Your…your…”

  “Dick,” he prompted.

  “Your dick. I love it so deep inside me.”

  “Where is it inside you?”

  “My cunt.”

  He held her hips and poked up. “Good.”

  She could hear the smile in his voice, see his dimples in her mind.

  “Do you like being on top, having control?”

  “Yes.” She tightened her pussy muscles and smiled on his groan.

  “You’re a natural, sexual creature. Perfect for Seth and me. Come here. I can’t take much more of this.” He tugged at her until she lay over him, her mouth at his neck. He pulled her knees impossibly wider. She felt every delicious inch of him. Grasping her butt cheeks, he began an onslaught. Her breasts rubbed his chest with each thrust. Her clit banged into the root of his cock. Her breath came in harsh pants. She was beyond thought. There was no need to match his rhythm because they pounded one another in time without trying.

  Her muscles tightened before her orgasm. The thread of rationality that connected her to reality broke, and she spiraled out of control. With her last breath she ground out, “I love your dick in my cunt!” Then the world held nothing but pure, delicious feeling.

  * * * *

  “Koda, I know you’re tired, but this is only a quick stop while I catch some shut-eye.” The horse whinnied while Seth removed the Appaloosa’s saddle and blanket. His oilcloth poncho draped over some low-hanging branches of a fir tree would have protected man and horse from the raging downpour he’d been fighting for the past few hours, but under the thick boughs, no rain penetrated.

  He poured oats into his hat and fed them to Koda, then cut an apple to share. Only when the horse seemed settled did he take out a strip of buffalo jerky and gnaw on it until his stomach stopped rumbling. He’d ridden almost without stopping for two days, not quitting for weather, which had been a bitch, food, or rest. But now he had to sleep a few hours or he’d fall asleep in the saddle. Not that he hadn’t done that before, but with fate’s perverse humor, he’d probably fall off and break his fool neck, now that he had something to live for.

  And Regan was definitely a sparkling star in the black and empty sky of his life. Since the war he’d wandered pretty aimlessly, searching for something to make him a man again. Thank God he’d had Hay to travel with, or he would have lost his mind and done something foolish long ago. No question, the man drove him crazy at times with his damn Shakespeare and unending cheerful disposition, but Seth loved him like a brother. Better, even, for he chose to make Hay family.

  With a last stroke across Koda’s withers, Seth stretched out, Koda’s blanket over his body and his saddlebags under his head. Whereas a few nights ago he’d been uncomfortable sleeping on a cot off the ground, now he felt every pebble, each uneven piece of ground under his back. He already missed Regan’s warmth, her gentle breathing, the way she curled up to him, not caring that his scars reached beyond his arm and into his soul.

  He closed his eyes, trying not to think about the fact that he still had half a day’s ride before reaching home. Then he smiled because even thinking the word “home” made him happy.

  He could hardly credit Regan’s feelings for him. Part of him dreaded arriving at the farm only to find that she decided she wanted Hay alone. What would he do then? He’d already invested more emotionally in the concepts of home, wife, family than he’d ever imagined. He needed Regan like water.

  Sighing, he tried to shut off his mind. Thinking about losing what seemed only a breath away would do nothing but make him miserable. When he rode into the yard he’d know soon enough if he had lost it all by leaving the two of them alone so soon or if God smiled on him.

  Exhaustion pushed him into a fitful sleep.

  “We can be in Cold Springs in a day.”

  “That’s too big a town. It ups the risk.”

  That sounded like Hay, but what the hell was Hay doing here with him on the trail and who was he talking to?

  “They have a bank. And the railroad payroll is deposited there.”

  “I’m cogitating on it, but rig
ht now I don’t like it.”

  Cogitatin’. How like Hay to use a ten dollar word when a two bit one would do.

  “Well, hurry it up and cogitate. The money will be there on the fifteenth.”

  The voices faded into the blankness of his unconsciousness, and he slept without interruption until Koda nudged him awake. Day hadn’t broken yet, but like the Appaloosa, he wanted to head out. He’d already missed the deadline he’d set for himself by a day and a half.

  He led Koda out from under the tree and onto the trail south. The rain had let up, but dark clouds scudded across the sky. Based on the moon’s position, Seth guessed the hour to be around three. With luck, he could be home in time for one of Regan’s hearty breakfasts.

  “Come on, boy. I know you want your stall as much as I want a warm cabin.” He set off without giving the strange dream a moment’s thought.

  Chapter Ten

  “Seth!” Regan flew off the porch and launched herself at him. He caught her with one arm after dropping Koda’s lead. Even with one arm, she felt safe in his embrace.

  “Regan, darlin’, what’s wrong?”

  She kissed him with a passion that had built along with her anxiety over his lateness. “Nothing, now that you’re home.” She turned loose and slid down his body to stand before him. “We’ve been so worried!”

  “About me?” He looked over her shoulder where she knew Hay waited.

  “She’s been nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs ever since dinner last night when you still hadn’t arrived home,” Hay said. “I tried to tell her that being late was just like you, but it didn’t make her feel any better.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Seth said in a low voice.

  “You will if you make me worry like that again, Seth Pratt.” She smiled, hoping the nervousness she’d felt didn’t show in her eyes. “Now come inside for something hot to eat.”

  A slow smile spread across his face. “Yes, ma’am. Just as soon as I take care of Koda.”

  “I imagine the poor animal is sick of all your prattling by now,” Hay said. “I’ll take care of him.”

  He picked up the reins. “C’mon, boy. I promise not to say a word, not even one of the Bard’s quotes about proud beasts such as yourself.”

  Seth watched them head toward the barn for a few seconds. “Koda’s lookin’ forward to a dry stall and fresh hay.” He turned to her. “I should wash up. I probably smell worse than he does.”

  “You smell like a man who’s been riding hard to get home to his family. How can that be bad?” She tucked her arm into the crook of his right elbow and led him up the steps and into the cabin. “Why don’t you use the sink to wash your hands and face? I’ll put water on to heat for a full bath after you’ve eaten.”

  Seth shook his head. “So this is what it feels like.”

  “What?”

  He smiled, his eyes tired but clear in a way they hadn’t been when he and Hay arrived a week or so ago. “Havin’ someone care about you.”

  “Get used to it, Seth. For each of us there are at least two others who think the world of us.”

  His cheeks burnished pink. He pumped the handle at the sink until clear water flowed. Lathering a square of soap by bracing the bar against his shirt and rolling it with his hand, he covered his face with soap.

  When he finished washing, he pumped the handle to fill a couple kettles with water.

  “Where did you go?” Regan asked.

  “Pretty far up into the Washington Territory. I thought it might be best to go as far afield from Cold Springs as possible and still find a preacher who might come this way.” He set one kettle on the stove and Regan followed suit with the second.

  “Did you find anyone? Will we be married soon?”

  He smiled again, transforming his face from fatigued to happy. She smoothed her hand over his cheek and to his forehead, into his hair.

  “Did you miss me?” she whispered.

  “Like a cloudy day misses the sun.”

  “I missed you, too.” Standing on tiptoes she kissed him, gentler than out in the yard. Then she took his hand and led him to the table.

  “How did you and Hay…uh, get along?”

  She chuckled as she prepared a plate of scrambled eggs, sausage, and biscuits and gravy kept warm in the oven. “Fabulously. I am the luckiest woman in the world, with the two best husbands in the world.”

  She set the plate before him, and he dug in hungrily. She sat across from him and watched with amusement. “What did you eat on your trip?”

  “Naught but jerky, and precious little of that.”

  “Lord! No wonder you’re hungry. Want some coffee?”

  “Please.”

  Before she had the cup filled, Hay came through the door. “It’s starting to pour again. Glad you’re home, Seth.”

  “I am, too.”

  With coffee for the three of them, she set one cup at Hay’s place, one in front of Seth, and one at her seat. “When you take a breath,” she began, “please tell us what we’re dying to know. When can we expect to be men and wife?”

  * * * *

  Seth looked up, a fork of eggs and sausage on his fork. He set it down, looked meaningfully at Hay, and reached across the table to take Regan’s hand.

  “Regan Stone, will you do us the honor of becoming our wife on Saturday?”

  She smiled, turning her from a beautiful woman to one beyond compare, in Seth’s mind.

  “I would be honored.”

  “No more than we, sweet lady,” said Hay, and he bent to kiss her hand. For once Seth didn’t mind Hay’s courtly ways. It seemed fitting.

  He pushed aside his plate and wrapped his hand around the coffee cup. “I thank you for the fine breakfast, Regan. Now my stomach is as happy as the rest of me.”

  “Are you happy, Seth?” she asked. “Truly happy? I know you had doubts about this arrangement.”

  He gave it long thought. “It’s not how I ever imagined being married, but yes, I feel a contentment inside that’s been missing for a long time. And it’s because of you two, this place, this farm and cabin. I’m grateful.”

  Hay opened his mouth, but Seth cut him off. “And if you say one thing from Shakespeare, I’ll chase you out into the rain with a butcher knife!”

  Hay jerked upright, appearing affronted. “I was going to say, about goddamn time you’re happy. I’m happy, too.”

  It took Regan’s laughter to break the men’s glaring. Hay succumbed first, dipping his head and chuckling. But a moment later he jerked his head up. Laughter spilled from Seth, a deep rumbling sound that filled the room.

  When he quit, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, he noticed Hay and Regan staring. “What?” he asked.

  “I’ve never heard you laugh like that,” Hay said.

  “I’ve laughed.” Seth’s cheeks heated, and he took a sip of coffee to avoid Regan’s gaze.

  “I’ve heard you snicker, seen you smile—rarely—and chuckle, even more rarely. But I’ve never heard you let loose with a full laugh. And I’ve known you for years.”

  Seth squirmed in his seat. “You make it sound like I’m some kind of grouch.”

  Hay nodded vigorously. “Shakespeare didn’t say it, but he should have. ‘If the shoe fits—’”

  “I loved the sound of your laugh, Seth. I hope from now on we will all laugh and be the happiest…threesome in the history of the world.”

  “Hear, hear.” Hay held up his coffee cup in a toast. Seth and Regan tapped their cups against his.

  Seth sat back in his chair almost overcome with emotion. I’m just tired from the trip. But he’d been worn out from long rides before and never felt so unrestrained, so free to feel.

  “I musta stopped in every town between here and Walla Walla before I found a preacher. I figured as a territory, Washington might be freer in attitude. It wasn’t quite as easy as I’d hoped, but I found someone.” He looked to Regan. “Don’t know rightly what religion he is. I hope
that won’t be a problem.”

  “Not at all.” She took a breath. “Does he know our circumstances?”

  “He said it sounded like a fine idea to him.”

  “So he’ll be here, right?”

  “I paid him half of what Hay and I decided and told him he’d get the other half when he married us right and proper.”

  Hay wrinkled his brow. “Wait a minute. This man is a minister, right? Does he have a church?”

  Seth looked away, took a gulp of coffee, and stared into the cup.

  “Where did you find this paragon of virtue who thinks it’s all right for a woman to wed two men?”

  “I told ya. Up towards Walla Walla.”

  “And…?”

  He huffed out a breath and glared at Hay once more. “In a bawdy house, all right?”

  “What?” Regan looked shocked and then covered her mouth and laughed.

  “He was preaching to the girls.”

  “I’m sure,” Hay muttered.

  Seth had hoped he wouldn’t have to explain about the fallen minister who, though still ordained, had lost every flock but the lowest available. He figured that as long as he was ordained and willing to travel the miles to Cold Springs, he would do.

  “Wait a minute,” Regan said, frowning. “What were you doing in a whorehouse?”

  “Good question, my sweet.” Hay sat back and stared, amused.

  “Lookin’ for a surprise.”

  “Really? What is it?” She sat forward, eyes gleaming.

  “You’ll find out on our weddin’ night. I hope you’ll like.”

  “Speaking of the wedding night,” Hay said, regarding Seth, “that’s four days away.”

  “So?” Regan tilted her head and looked from man to man.

  “Regan, I think we should wait to have any further…uh, relations. What do you think, Hay?”

  “I agree.” He turned his gaze to Regan. “The chances of anyone finding out before Saturday are slim, but in case someone wanders by, it will be best if we’re not in flagrante delicto.”