by Fiona Archer
His upper body shook as she felt his cock twitch inside her. He threw his head back, extending the taut line of his body from his throat down to his pelvis. Slowly, his chest rose with, she guessed, much-needed air. His fingers eased their bruising grip on her knees to rub over her skin.
Look at him. Shaking. Fighting for air. She’d done this. Warmth—no, call it what is was—pride, filled her chest.
A long minute passed as Mike unclipped her cuffs and lowered her arms by her sides. With both hands he smoothed the damp strands of her hair off her face, dropping a tender kiss on her lips before raising himself off the bed.
With a gentleness that made her ache, Quinn eased out of her, then kissed each knee, bestowing an extra kiss on one angry red finger impression. Quickly tying off his spent condom, he moved away, grabbing his jeans as he left the room.
Mike lifted her feet and carefully straightened out her legs. “Okay, baby? No leg cramps?” He smoothed his hands down both thighs, massaging as he went.
“N-no.” She coughed out the word, her throat dry.
Quinn came back into the room wearing his jeans and carrying a glass of water. Placing the glass on her nightstand, he slid an arm under her shoulders, then raised her back up off the sheets. As Mike arranged the pillows behind her, Quinn lifted the glass to her lips.
A flood of emotions hit her at once. Happiness. Desirability. Closeness. She’d never shared a bond with a man like this before. Make that double.
She gulped down half the water.
“Easy there, sugar.” He removed the glass and used his finger to wipe away a stray trickle of moisture from her chin.
She huffed a little laugh. “I’ve worked up a thirst.”
“And you did it beautifully, sub. But it’s not over yet.” Mike stood beside the bed. His voice deepened. “Undo my jeans.”
Something deep inside her clicked into place. Her pussy, still tingling in the afterglow of Quinn’s dominance, throbbed. She wanted more. Now.
Chapter Four
Mike forced his expression to remain neutral, despite the thrill at seeing her accept this new challenge. Like a new colt taking her first shaky steps, Reagan embraced her natural submissiveness.
She scrambled over the sheets to kneel before him at the edge of the bed. His cock pressed painfully hard against the dark denim. Her fingers gripped the tab of his jeans zipper.
“Slowly, sweetness. I’m so damn hard, I’m liable to come from you undoing the fucking zipper alone.” His hand came out and gripped her chin, forcing her gaze up to his face. “And if I do, that’s ten swats over my knee.”
Seeing her open her mouth to argue, he raised a brow. She jammed her lips together, pinching the tiny muscles at the corners.
Damn, he loved pushing her.
The moment she glanced to the side and caught her breath, he knew she’d just thought up a reprisal. Maybe she wanted a little power of her own? Not at this Dom’s expense.
He snagged her wrists, enjoying her sharp intake of breath at his decisive action. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”
She tried to turn her wrists, testing her confinement. Flexing his fingers, he tightened his grip. A faint flush rose across her chest. Some women loved being tied. Held. Caught. Reagan definitely fell into that group.
She swallowed. “Yes, Sir. I mean Mike. Yes, Mike.”
He nodded, releasing his grip.
Was that a tiny kick of fear or anticipation that made her bite down on her lip? He’d say the latter judging by the sharp points of her nipples.
After one quick glance up at his face, she started pulling down the zipper’s tab. He sucked in a giant breath. The vibrations of the metal tines pinged against his cock like a wave of tiny electric shocks.
His sigh of relief matched the vision of his now-jutting cock as it strained against his cotton boxers.
With great care, she slid the denim down over his hips and buttocks. The back of her knuckles brushed over his ass. He gritted his teeth as his cock throbbed, testing his commitment to stand still. He ached, literally, to feel the wet warmth of her mouth on his cock. Would she suck hard? Be hesitant? Both he and Quinn had no doubt she had little experience. And every caveman cell in his body wanted to yell with pleasure at that fact.
She continued to tug on his jeans, down past his thighs. Christ, he should warn her.
He heard her sharp intake of breath. No wonder. A jagged scar, about six inches long, ran across his right knee. A deep plum color, it mottled with his tanned skin, which pitted in places along the top and side of his thigh. The IED injury.
He steeled himself against the usual pity whenever someone glimpsed his scar.
She gulped. “Oh, Mike.”
He cupped her chin and gently raised her gaze to his. He searched her eyes, encountering the open honesty of sorrow, and was that respect too? And thank God, no pity. Relief ripped apart the tightness of his chest like the Jaws of Life. “Just a bad day at the office, sweetie.”
Without another word, he stepped out of the jeans and took them from her hands. Once folded, he dropped them over a chair. His boxers followed. He walked back to the bed, giving her a chance to see him for the man he was, scarred, strong, and wanting her in every dirty, basic way a man can.
That’s when he saw it. The moment of diamond-sharp recognition when her eyes widened as her mind clicked into gear and she finally saw how much she was desired. Fuck. His cock stood at attention with more vigor than he’d ever managed on the parade ground. Yeah, he’d seen the way she’d fretted earlier when they’d demanded she strip. Why did the beautiful ones always doubt? This full-figured woman was a perfect fit for his arms, his hands, and damn, he’d make sure, his cock too.
He let his hand drift down from her chin to the base of her throat. “Have you taken a man in your mouth before, Reagan?”
Her pulse beat a flurry under his fingers. Excitement? Maybe a mix of fear? That pink tongue of hers darted out to lick her lips. He wanted it on his cock.
“I have. But, I’m not, you know, highly skilled.” Heat flooded her cheeks.
So proper. God, she was cute. Time to get her all dirty.
Quinn chuckled from his stance at the foot of the bed. “So you have some experience, sugar.”
She turned her head to face Quinn. “Every girl has her secrets.”
“Not for long.” His friend’s voice dripped with dark promise.
Their little sub couldn’t hide her shiver. Delightful. The idea of the threat, of their challenging her comfort zone, and she reacted beautifully. She was a Dom’s dream, his dream come true.
“I was going to give you a choice, seeing as how Quinn stated you were a tight fit. He’s a big guy. So am I. A tender pussy is one thing, non-erotic pain is another. But now that you’ve stated you’ve taken a cock in your mouth, the matter’s settled.”
She sat back and rested her bottom on the back of her heels, waiting for his cue.
He stood before her, his cock inches from her mouth. “Sometimes I cuff a sub’s hands in front of her when she gives head. If she’s a brat, behind her. I’ll allow you freedom of movement.” He ran his fingers through her hair, winding the strands around his hand. Tighter and tighter, until he’d forced her head back.
Her eyes dilated, and he imagined the delicious tiny pricks of pain that seemed to light her up inside. “Thank you, Mike.” Held immobile, she could only watch as he lowered his head, his mouth covering hers, pressing hard and forcing her lips apart. His tongue probed deep, tasting her with each swipe. By the time he ended the kiss, her hands were on his hips, her fingers digging into his ass.
She licked her lips.
His kiss had done the trick.
Mike released her hair, running his fingers through the strands, before cupping one hand loosely behind her head. He wanted to maintain contact with her when she gave head, not just for the control, but the intimacy. She wasn’t simply performing a service, but giving him pleasure, and he wanted to share tha
t with her, to let her feel his reactions.
As if guided by some unseeing instinct, she leaned in close, kissing the muscles of his abdomen, across to his hips, down closer to his groin. Like a kitten seeking approval, she rubbed her cheek against the skin near where the top of his thigh met his groin. Combined with her kisses, it was one of the most intimate acts he’d ever experienced.
The rustle of material at the end of the bed dragged her attention. She turned to check on Quinn.
His buddy favored her with a slow smile. “Don’t worry, sub, I’m more than a bystander.” He squatted down beside the bag. “As you’ll soon find out.”
She started, her eyes wide as her hands clenched against Mike’s hips. Little sub needed her attention back on the job at hand.
Mike applied a hint of pressure on her nape.
Turning back, she smiled up at him before focusing on his groin. She curled her hand around the base of his cock, gave it a squeeze, and then ran her hand up its length. A hot shiver of pleasure fired from his cock straight to his balls.
Pressing her thumb over the glans, she spread the droplets of pre-cum over the mushroomed head. The firm pressure was as erotic a massage as he’d ever had. Clenching his jaw, he cursed as she stroked the almost too-sensitive skin.
He watched as she bent her head, holding his breath in anticipation. His cock jumped as she kissed the hood. Fuck, that was hot. She ran her tongue over her lips, tasting him. Her face relaxed, as if she’d surprised herself with the flavor. Adventurous. Pointing her tongue straight, she poked on the hood’s opening, drawing out more pre-cum. Jesus, he’d lose himself before she took him in her sweet mouth. Each stab of her tongue revved him higher, made him harder. Almost unconsciously, he began to thrust with his hips.
With her other hand, she cupped his balls, weighing them, as if allowing herself to get used to the feel of his skin. Gently, she massaged his sack with her fingertips. The pressure was…just right. Firm. Confident. She kissed down the side of his shaft, licking her way back up on the underside.
Fuck, his chest burned like he’d run a marathon. Breathing was a chore, each intake shorter, more ragged.
She took him into her mouth, sliding his head just past her lips and sucking hard. Then soft. Then hard again. She repeated the pattern, taking in an extra inch of his length until—Jesus on a stick, he wouldn’t last—until she reached halfway down his length. As if mindful of keeping the same rhythm, her fingers massaged his balls with each drag of her lips.
From behind her, Quinn spread lube on his fingers. Mike checked his grip on her hair, ready to pull her away if needed. Once he’d received Mike’s nod, Quinn moved his hand closer, his fingers just about to circle her rosette with the cool—
“Ummpphh.” She yelped against his cock, the sweet hum making him catch his breath.
“I told you. No spectators,” Quinn said up close to her ear. His arm rounded her waist, anchoring her hip to his torso, preventing her from any kind of retreat. “Your cock makes an effective gag, buddy.”
Mike’s gruff laugh sounded winded to his own ears. “You thought I was the tough one, didn’t you, Reagan? I’m a demanding bastard, but Quinn’s no angel either.”
Quinn half kneeled, half sat beside her on the bed, forming a blockade on her left side. “We said earlier you needed preparation for Mike to claim your ass. No time like the present.” He pushed into her hole down to the first knuckle.
Now her breathing was shorter, harder. Her hands clenched around him.
“Fix your grip, girl,” Mike bit out, his voice harsh, his grip on her hair tightening with a sharp twist of his wrist.
Her eyes widened at the pressure. She raised her head and hurried out her words. “I’m so sorry.”
Genuine contriteness creased lines in her forehead. He nodded his forgiveness and guided his cock back into her mouth. Slowly, he relaxed his pull on her hair.
She grabbed his hips, drawing him in closer, but also keeping some small measure of control on his light thrusting. If that gave her comfort, he had no objection as she learned to trust in them.
“Adding another finger, sugar. Breathe in.”
She sucked in air through her nose. The vibrations of her soft groans against his cock forced his head back. If the sweet torture from her mouth wasn’t his undoing, then her reaction to Quinn’s exploration of her ass would be. A faint sheen of sweat covered her forehead. Her eyes closed as a shudder visibly raked over her body. She was sinking deeper into the pull of submission.
“Feel his fingers in your ass. Stretching you.” His hand pushed against her head. “So I can, ahhh, fill you up.” The last three words came out in a rush.
He watched through hooded eyes as she wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock. She flattened her lips over her teeth and pulled her mouth along his length, pointing her tongue against the underside as she sucked, over and again, squeezing blood into the head of his cock.
Mike cursed. His balls retracted, hugging to his body. “Reagan, let go now if you don’t want me to come in your mouth.”
Her fingers dug into his buttocks, refusing him room to move away.
No time. He threw back his head as a hot stream of energy pulsed from his cock, his groan lasting as long as the spasms of pleasure that threatened to take his legs out from under him.
His beautiful little sub had gotten him off like he’d never experienced before. And they’d only begun to explore.
When he slipped from her mouth, she kissed the head.
Mike shuddered at the sweet intimacy. He loosened his hold in her hair, then stroked from crown to base, wanting, no, needing, to remind her of her worth. Bending down close to her face, he kissed her swollen lips. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he said, his voice thick.
* * * *
Yes, she’d done it!
Pride warmed her chest. She’d made him come and she’d swallowed too. A first for her on both fronts.
Quinn’s breath tickled the back of her ear. “Your turn, baby.” He scissored his fingers deep inside her.
She gulped for air. Oh, holy heck.
The nerve endings of her back passage fired again. Her muscles contracted, gripping his fingers. More burn and a tugging need from deep inside. Her swollen clit ached for the rub of a Dom’s finger.
As if he’d read her mind, Quinn moved his free hand from her hip to between her legs, stroking over her clit.
Just there. Yes. Yes. Faster.
Her muscles clamped onto Quinn’s fingers, sucking him in further. She pushed back against his thrusts, driving him deeper. A sense of fullness overwhelmed her. With her gaze fixed on Mike’s legs, it was all she could do to stay on her knees. Like a riptide in the sea, carrying her off on a whim of its own, she was helpless to the power of Quinn’s touch.
Clinging to Mike’s hips, she cried out as her body shook from the force of her climax. Spasms fired along her back passage, electrifying her with their wicked intensity. This from just his fingers?
Warm lips kissed her cheek, then her mouth. “You’re gorgeous, sugar.”
Quinn lifted her up in his arms and carried her out of the room and down the hallway to the bathroom. The musky scent of sweat on his skin invaded her nostrils. She loved it. It was all man and sex and there was nothing wrong with that.
The sound of water drew her gaze. Mike stood at the opening of the shower, adjusting the water’s temperature. A shower large enough for two, but no more.
Quinn lowered her to her feet. She grumbled, wanting to stay close up against his warmth, and ignored his answering chuckle, instead leaning on him as he twisted up her hair and secured it with one of the clips from the basket on the vanity.
His gesture made her snuggle all the closer. These small unprompted acts of kindness rocked her more than any grand presentations of bouquets and chocolates.
Mike grasped her shoulders from behind. “Come here, baby.”
With a smile up at Quinn, she obeyed.
Mike circled h
er waist, dragging her close. The hair of his chest tickled against her breasts. He cupped her cheek, holding her face up for his study.
“Whatever you think about today, know one thing. This isn’t a one-night stand. Not for me or Quinn.” His kiss robbed her of the chance to reply.
She wanted to say it wasn’t for her either, but with so many emotions swirling through her, how could she think clearly right now?
When he lifted his head, he guided her into the shower. He soaped and rinsed her body with gentle care, then wrapped her in a warm bath sheet and sat her on the closed toilet seat before allowing himself a quick shower.
She felt pampered and cherished and oh, so confused.
The lovemaking was heavenly, and their aftercare? It took her breath away. She’d be lying if she didn’t admit how wonderful it all felt wrapped up in its sensual bundle. But these men moved through life on high-octane power. Compared to them, she was a horse-and-buggy kind of girl.
So say something. Tell him that she was taking her first steps in this brave new world. But yelling to be heard over the spray of the water? No, she’d wait. Her mouth dry, she grabbed a drink using an antique blue highball glass she’d found at a flea market sale in Sheridan. The glass’s splash of bright blue against the white-topped vanity always made her smile.
As she finished running a brush through her hair, Mike stepped out of the shower. He scrubbed a bath towel over his head, leaving short dark strands of hair standing up at odd angles.
Maybe it was her intake of breath, but his gaze sharpened.
“You okay?” He threw his towel in the cane hamper and, mindless of his nudity, stepped closer, wrapping his hand around her nape.
Oh, that firm touch. It was guaranteed to take the stiffness out of her legs every time. Damn, he never played fair.
Say it. Now. Before you give in. “I can’t be rushed.”
Mike’s mouth tugged at one end. “Spooked you earlier, huh?”
Yes. Or maybe I spooked myself. “This is all new for me. I’m not ready to make any declarations.”
