by Gayle Riley
“You want a taste before we take her, or you just want to get inside her now?” Jack asked.
Jack pulled her hair and kissed her upside down, biting and tugging her lips, swallowing her screams.
“What will it be?” I wondered out aloud. Her writhing body was too much temptation rolled into one.
I reached down and pulled up cock near her entrance. She looked up and bit her lip, waiting. She was sweating and breathing hard. She’s exactly how we wanted her—exhausted with pleasure and impatient.
“Fuck me,” she panted.
I sank into and buried myself to the hilt and her head dropped back. With her mouth open, Jack slid his cock into her mouth and thrusted, matching my motions.
My breath catches as I hold my cock, not moving inside her yet, letting the sensations flow through me.
“Ah,” she moaned, her mouth filled and her cunt fucked.
“I’m cumming,” Jack choked. “Swallow me,” he ordered when she tried to move her head away. Her eyes shone and she took up the challenge.
I was close, thrusting harder and harder. I gushed, my seed flowing into her. Jack spurted into her mouth.
We were all panting and I moved my hand up and untied her wrists.
Chapter 10
Jack
After a few seconds, I gasped out, “My turn.”
Olivia closed her legs, denying me, and whispered out, “I can’t take anymore.”
Reese and I switched positions and I forced her legs apart. “You will.”
“I’m too sore. I’m used up.” She probably thought her body can’t handle another one. But, she’s wrong. I won’t stop until my cock is deep in her cunt. I need that pleasure of her pussy clenching around my cock.
I cupped her leaking cunt juiced mixed with Reese’s seed. “This is never off-limits to us.” I viciously thrusted into her. She was slick and my cock slid all the fuck way home.
She was still tight. And I went brutally fast her pussy clenched around me.
Olivia grabbed my head and pulled my hair. “Harder!”
My arms were threatening to give out with how hard I drilled into her soaking, wet cunt. I bent her knees and continued my furious thrusts. She was my kryptonite. The bed vibrated against the wood floor with each frenzied thrust.
Reese cock sprung up again wanting to play again. I lay across the bed with her, still thrusting. I was face to face with her and I reached behind and spread her ass cheeks. Fingering her there to loosen her up, while Reese stroked his cock and entered her.
She tensed and stop moving with me. I grabbed her hips, pulled my legs over and moved her, while Reese thrusted into her asshole. I placed my finger near her clit and gave it one flick.
She came and Reese and I followed. With our faces flushed and our bodies sweaty, Reese dropped down next to her and wrapped her in his arms.
It was fucking amazing every single time. She was perfect for us. When it came to her, we acted like Neanderthals rather than powerful men who rule with utter control. All that control slips away when it came to her. It was frustrating and exhilarating as hell. We couldn't get any work done when she’s around and when she's not around we, still, can't get any work done.
It was an odd mix.
I glanced at Reese over her head and he nodded. We were on the same page.
“Olivia,” I began.
“Hmm…” she said, lazily trailing her fingers across my chest.
“We’re serious. Move in with us.”
“What do we tell everyone?” She was worried.
I scoffed, “Fuck everyone.”
Unfortunately, Reese was more pragmatic. “If Olivia wants to be accepted and make friends, that won’t work. Society is filled with norms and traditions. We announce she’s going out with one of us and, slowly, when she’s integrated with the employees, we tell them she’s ours. Completely.”
She thought about it and shocked us when she said, “okay.” She agreed with us.
I smiled and kissed her. “God, I love you.”
She froze in my arms.
I froze.
She was supposed to say it back. Did I misread her intentions?
She looked over at Reese and he whispered it to her also.
After the longest seconds of our lives, she said, “I love you, too.”
Then she took both of our hands and placed it on her stomach. Leaving it there. That could only mean one thing.
Shouts and exclaims filled the room. Her stomach soon became inundated with kisses. I cradled her in my arms and placed her under the shower with four jets on each wall.
“Sit here on the bench, babe, and we’ll clean you up.”
“Prop up your feet. Let us clean all of you.”
Reese soaped her body. She, wordlessly, allows us to tend to her and leaned her back against my shoulder as the steam surrounded us. I gently washed her pussy with my fingers.
He breath hitched and she arched her back. “Easy there, love. We’ve got the rest of our lives.” It gave me a pure male satisfaction that we could turn her on with a simple touch.
We had to be careful now that she was pregnant.
Reese filled the bath and we moved into the jacuzzi. I sat behind her, pulling her between my legs. Her legs wrapped around Reese’s as she faced him. We were all connected and joined.
Whole.
She completed us and made us happy. Forever.
Olivia
I never felt more deliriously happy than now in that moment wrapped up in my men’s arms in the jacuzzi.
I felt loved and cherished. My every desire was their goal to fulfill. I never found myself lacking for anything.
When I found out I was pregnant two weeks ago, I was scared. I didn’t know whose baby it was. But when I looked at them, I didn’t need to know whose baby it was. All I knew was I loved them both, equally. Irrevocably.
I knew they would love this baby as their own. It didn’t matter anymore whose baby it was. All that mattered was that this baby was loved by all of his parents.
I couldn't wait for the laughs and cackles that would surround us.
Reese
“You’ve made me so happy,” I murmured, placing soft kisses on her lips. Tendrils of her fair framed her face and she looked gorgeous as fuck.
More so now because she was glowing with her afterglow and pregnancy. It gave me immense pleasure to know we’ve had our seed growing inside her.
She was bred with our baby.
The bond between us kept growing stronger and the love more fierce.
This was wild, insane, and crazy but it worked for us.
Fuck what everyone else said.
We worshipped her body slowly in the bathtub, giving her everything she wants, fulfilling her every need.
THE END
Bonus 29 of 30
Wild and Free
Description
Julie never imagined that life in New York City would be so difficult. She had such big dreams when she arrived from out West. She would have it all: success, a loving husband, beautiful children. She would be looked up to by her peers. But things haven’t quite turned out like that. Yet despite the setbacks, after five years of living in the city, she is finally on the cusp of a major career breakthrough. And her relationship also seems like it is moving closer and closer to marriage.
Little does she know that a storm is brewing. Within twenty-four hours, her entire life will be upended and she will be left in a state of despair.
But that's when a certain sexy, tall, blonde, green-eyed professional quarterback gallops into her life. The way he looks at her, the way he smiles, the way he licks his lips, it all drives her wild with desire.
Is this the man she's been waiting for? Is he the one that will sweep her off her feet and away from her safe, dull life and introduce her to pleasure, danger, and adventure?
Yes! Yes! Yes!
Chapter 1
Trent stretched his arms high into the air and grimaced. The season had
ended a couple weeks ago. He was slowly recovering from all the hits he’d taken throughout the year. But every muscle in his body still felt sore. No matter how banged up he got, he never complained, never asked to be rested. That’s not what quarterbacks did.
“I’m glad you finally got your head out of your ass,” Glenn said. “There’s only so long that you can play the field.”
“Is that right?” Trent said skeptically.
As the wedding drew closer, he could feel his entire body filling with doubts. Was he really making the right decision? Was he doing this for the right reasons? Those were the questions that had swirled around his head for the last several days, weeks, months.
So many people had pushed him into it, at least that's how he felt at the time. Everyone in his life had said that getting married would be the best thing for his career and for his life outside of football. It was time to settle down. That's what they’d said. Time to finally grow up, leave his bad boy, playboy ways behind. He was sick of hearing it.
“Listen, I'm not going to lie to you,” Glen said.
Trent frowned and groaned. He hated when people said things like that. In his experience, “I'm not going to lie to you,” was always followed by a lie.
“Don't give me that look,” Glenn said. “It’s not like you’re going to jail or anything. You're getting married to a beautiful…” Glenn's voice trailed off and he turned his eyes away.
A wry smile formed on Trent's lips. Yeah, he's not sure what she is either, he thought. Every week it seemed like she was launching herself into some new creative career: modeling, acting, photography, dance. She’d dabbled in all of them, flitting her wings from one project to the next, leaving all of them half finished, quickly losing her enthusiasm once she realized how hard she would have to work. That's how it had always been with her. Hard work, sacrifice, dedication, and commitment just weren't in her blood.
She’d been spoiled, too damn spoiled, all her life. Parents, boyfriends, sugar daddies, everyone seemed to beg and bow before her. It was hard to blame them. There was something about the way she carried herself, head held high, long blonde hair flowing down her back, emerald green eyes, confident, imperious, alluring. She was a stunner. No question about that. The kind of woman that oozed sexual energy, especially those eyes and those full, pulpy lips. For all of her flaws, and they were certainly legion, Trent had to admit that he still found her incredibly sexy. Whenever he thought about calling off the marriage and moving on with his life, the image of her large pink nippled tits spilling out of her lingerie, as she sauntered around the house in the a.m., surged into his mind.
Could she even be trusted to cook, clean and maintain the fort while he was at practice, working his ass off, grinding to the bone, either on the field or in the film room? Nope. It didn't take long for Trent to figure out that there was no way that he'd ever be able to trust her to do those basic traditional wifely duties.
His mother and grandmother had both been strong-willed women who weren't afraid to speak their minds. Neither one would hesitate to put a man in his proper place if he dared step out of line. But despite their strong wills, they never raised any objection to fulfilling a woman’s more traditional role when that was called for.
“She's out of town,” Trent said. “Another acting role.”
There was a tinge, or maybe even a little bit more than a tinge, of bitterness and sarcasm in Trent's voice.
It wasn't that he wanted to control her, make her submit to his will, stay in the house all day baking cookies. Nope, he wasn't that sort of guy –jealous, weak, and insecure, constantly worrying about where his woman was and what she was doing. He didn't have any problem giving her the space she needed to be herself. He just wished that there was a bit more balance in her.
He wished that she was one of those women who took pride in how well they performed duties around the house, as well as their career ambitions and accomplishments. He’d hope that the prospect of marriage and starting a family would help Pamela slow down her fast Lane lifestyle, just a little bit. If she did, then it would make it easier for him to finally break away from his own wild, over the top ways. Everything he did made the news, the blogs, the podcasts, trended on twitter, and became a hot topic on everyone's burning tongue. He’d always loved the attention, the fame, the adoration, and of course the girls. Girls, girls, girls. They were always around, always offering, tempting, promising so much with their lust filled eyes.
“I saw the last movie she was in,” Glen said, looking up and away from Trent's piercing eyes as if he were searching for an answer on the ceiling. “What was it called…you know the one I'm talking about.”
Trent couldn't remember the name of the film either. There was nothing memorable about it, absolutely nothing, except for how amateurish the whole thing seemed. He couldn't remember the name, nobody could, but he had no problem remembering how enthusiastic Pamela had been when she came home with the reel. She wasn't onscreen along, barely had two lines of dialogue, but the director had made sure that she would be half-naked for the duration of the cameo.
Trent was past the point where he would bother to get angry or annoyed about that kind of stuff. He’d always known that she had a touch of sluttiness in her. He knew that from the moment he laid eyes on her. He could see it in the way she moved her hips, could hear it in her sultry southern voice. He couldn't help himself. He'd always been attracted to those types of women. The wrong types. That's what his mother had always told him. He loved his mother but never spent much time listening to her dating advice.
He'd always been attracted to women who vibrated with a wild, unbridled feminine energy, the type of woman who would scream, kick, hurl objects and insults, and then fuck your brains out. It was common knowledge: crazy women had the best pussy. And that's why they could get away with unpredictable, erratic behavior. They were the kind of women that men would try to break away from, only to be dragged back between their magical thighs by the undeniable power of the pussy. They were the worst and the best. They were the bane of his existence. They were also the only type of women that seem capable of holding his attention.
“I don’t remember what it was called either,” Trent said. “But don't worry about it. By this time, she's probably forgotten the name too.”
“Trent, you’re becoming a little too cynical,” Glen said. “That’s not good for your image I'm afraid. The fans want you to smile and succeed. No sweat on the brow. Cool as ice. That's what they want. The fans and the sponsors.”
That word sponsors always got a rise out of Trent. He didn't need the fucking money. Not one dime of it. He hated all that image stuff. He was sick of having to worry about his image. He just wanted to be free.
He could feel the desire for a road trip welling up inside. Maybe he needed to get out on the open road. He was sick of having to walk around on eggshells, like the next wild stunt he pulled would bring his whole career crashing down, even though that was certainly a possibility. He couldn’t continue getting into trouble and relying on other people to drag him to safety. He'd already done that one time too many.
“You guys are going to be a power couple,” Glen said. “I'm sure of that.”
Trent was relieved when the meeting with his agent was finally over. Everyone in his life seemed to be saying the same thing. There was only so much that he was going to be able to tolerate.
He spent the rest of the day at the practice facility, attending team meetings and watching a ton of film for the next game.
He hadn’t heard from Pamela all day. He’d sent her several texts and hadn’t yet received a response. Not a word. It shouldn't have bothered him, at least that's what he tried to tell himself. But it wasn't true. All throughout the film session, he’d been checking his phone, expecting to hear from her at any moment. He was her freaking fiancé. Maybe he was getting a bit of his own medicine. Over the years, he hadn’t been the nicest in his dealings with women, ignoring them, getting on with his hectic, hedo
nistic life, pretending as if they didn't exist, until of course he needed something, wanted something from them again. When Trent got home that night, his two pit bulls greeted him enthusiastically, barking, wagging their tails frantically, and jumping up on him.
He smiled and petted them. He didn't know what he would do if those dogs weren’t in his life. Their love, their enthusiasm, their dedication, their commitment was unconditional. They would never betray him. That was foreign to their nature. They were the exact opposite of the women that he constantly found himself entangled with.
Trent pumped his fists in the air. He still had his strength, his mojo, his fighting, warrior spirit.
Actually, he'd already started doing that, investing in real estate in the Southwest. This was another source of tension between him and Pamela. He would have preferred that she limit her modeling and acting and focus on growing his business. But she didn't have the discipline to sit down and work all day.
After struggling in his first few years in the league, most people had given up on the notion that he would ever be successful. So many people had ridden his coattails for so long, kept their hands out and their mouths open, always willing to receive something.
Trent didn't know where his career was going. He had no idea. Just a couple of years ago everything had seemed so clear to him. He was going to be a top draft pick. Number one overall. He was going to be the star of that night at Radio Music Hall in the heart of Manhattan. His 6 foot five, muscular frame, and perfectly tailored suit, caught all the eyes.
There was an energy, a charisma that just seemed to emanate from him. He was the type of guy that made women swoon and made men red in the face with jealousy and envy.
That's who he was. The big man on campus. He'd always been that. It was his daddy, Big Daddy Daniels, oil tycoon, billionaire, mogul, who had given him that confidence and swagger. And unfortunately, for Johnny, his daddy had also passed on a few vices as well. Drinking and women. And on some occasions he would mix and mingle with some harder stuff.
