As she ran her tongue up and down Carson’s cock, as she suckled it and squeezed his balls gently, Michael inserted fingers into her pussy and sucked her clit into his mouth.
Unable to control her arousal, she let go completely, screaming against Carson’s cock and pressing her pussy against Michael’s mouth.
Rapture consumed her, waves of pleasure swamped her, and she drank her lover’s passion down as she erupted into a roaring climax that went on and on and on.
Abigail sighed when her men cocooned her between them. Carson pulled her to him, her back against his chest, as Michael settled himself facing her. She could smell her nectar on his face. Leaning forward, she extended her tongue to taste the two of them, together. Michael’s eyes widened, and then he laid his smile on her lips. The kiss, instantly carnal, drew her in and down, and she sank in the wonder of what she shared with the brothers Benedict.
“You might have the right of it,” she whispered. She used one hand to brush his blond hair out of his eyes. “We just might kill each other.”
“But what a way to go,” Carson said.
Abigail found that hilarious. Carson held her snugly then placed a kiss on her shoulder. “We’re not done with you yet, Abby,” he said. “Let’s shower.”
Abigail had to admit she loved showering with these two men. Hell, I love everything we do together, in and out of bed. The sensation of soapy hands washing her body or her hair or both, as was happening now, had to be the most luxurious pampering, ever.
The shower itself was a wonder of sybaritic decadence. She’d never look at the simple act of getting clean the same way again.
Once Michael rinsed the conditioner out of her hair, he turned her so that her back was to Carson. He leaned forward and kissed her lightly then handed her the bar of soap.
Abigail wasted no time lavishing foam and caresses on Michael Benedict. She loved the feel of his flesh under her hands and paid particular attention to being very thorough in her cleansing of him.
As she cupped Michael’s scrotum and washed his cock, Carson leaned close. “We want to fuck your ass, baby. Let me begin to prepare you for that.”
Both men had stroked their fingers over her anus as they’d made love, and it had been a shock for her to discover that she had tiny little nerve endings there capable of sending electric shivers of pleasure throughout her body.
Carson must have read the tension that entered her body. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the curve of her shoulder. “Do you trust us not to hurt you?”
Abigail couldn’t stop her grin. “I’ve discovered that a little bit of pain can be a wonderful thing.”
Carson chuckled. Then he turned her face toward him, his expression serious. “Yes, it can be. But only a little bit. Do you trust us not to harm you?”
“Yes.” Another woman might hesitate to extend such blanket trust on what really was a short acquaintance. Abigail couldn’t really explain why she felt so strongly that she could trust these men with her life. It wasn’t something logical. It was instinctual, maybe even a little spiritual.
She knew these men, and it was a knowledge that ran soul deep.
“Good girl. Now, lean forward. Let Michael hold on to you.”
She did as she was told as the water continued to rain down over them. Something cool and slick coated the fingers Carson ran over her anus. “Just lubricant,” he said. Then he began to press forward. He used a slow and steady pressure against her rosebud as he pushed his finger against it.
Abigail felt a burn as Carson’s finger penetrated her anus. “Oh my.”
“Was that a good ‘oh my’ or a bad one?” Carson asked.
“Good, I think.”
Michael kept hold of her with one arm securely supporting her while he reached down to her slit with the other.
“Definitely good,” he announced.
Carson began to move his finger in and out of her anus, and the burn eased, until he added more lube and another finger. The burn returned, and Abigail couldn’t help but push back against those fingers working her. They moved in and out, as well as in a circular motion, and Abigail closed her eyes and shivered as arousal sparked anew.
“Damn, you’re so responsive,” Carson said.
“I feel like I need more.”
“More what, sweetheart?” Michael’s voice echoed through his chest. She held him close.
“More everything.”
Carson eased his fingers out of her then wrapped his arm around her, helping her to straighten.
Michael cupped his face. “Then let’s dry off and go back to bed. Will you let me have your ass?”
Abigail didn’t even have to think about it. She stretched up and placed a kiss on Michael’s lips. “Yes, please.”
Chapter Sixteen
Lying flat on the bed, with a lover on either side of her, was Abigail’s new favorite place to be. Hands caressed and tongues lapped. Sweet, sultry kisses mixed with deep, drugging ones, and Abigail melted.
Carson released her lips and worked his way down her body, stopping to suckle her nipple, giving it a tiny bite before heading south. Michael turned her face toward him, cupped her cheek, and covered her mouth with his own. His tongue demanded her surrender, and she gave it to him, gladly. She sank into Michael’s kiss as Carson settled between her thighs, opening her legs even wider. She felt totally, gloriously wanton.
Carson’s tongue licked her from the base of her pussy to her clit, and Abigail arched her back off the bed. Arousal that had been languidly swirling within now spiked and began to grow. Firm male hands held her hips in place, and she cried out as the hot and wet lapping, sucking, and nibbling sent her higher, then higher still.
Michael’s lips left hers to adore one breast, licking and sucking as his hand kneaded the other. He pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger at the same time he drew the other into his mouth, a strong and steady pull.
“Oh, yes.” Abigail felt as if every part of her body connected along one shivery, sexy wire, that every part of her was on fire with tingling, electrifying arousal.
Carson fucked her pussy with his tongue, changing his rhythm up every time she drew close to coming. It seemed a marvel to her the men could read her body’s signals so well. She reached down between her legs and combed her fingers through Carson’s hair, arching her hips closer.
When she used her other hand to stroke down Michael’s body, he captured that hand, brought it to his mouth, and kissed it.
“No, baby. We’re in charge here, not you. Just take what we give you.”
Carson worked his way back up her body then gathered her in, close. On her side and on the edge, she wrapped her arms around him and rubbed her wet pussy over his hot, hard cock.
“Damn, woman.” His expletive, uttered in a strained-sounding laugh, pleased her immensely. She’d felt Michael move as soon as Carson had wrapped his arms around her. Now she felt him close once more, as he helped his brother position her.
She was still lying on Carson and still teetering on the edge of orgasm. Her right knee was bent and higher on Carson’s hip, held in place by his large and powerful hand. Abigail wanted to come so badly, but these men held her immobile. The sound of a condom being opened caused her to shiver.
“Baby, you keep your eyes open.” Carson’s tone brooked no argument. “Look at me, Abby. I want to see what you’re feeling as Michael fucks your ass.”
Abigail worried that he thought to experience the moment only that way. “But I want you to fuck it, too.” It never left her mind that she had two lovers to please, that she needed to show them equal affection, give them equal time.
“I will. And some day, we’ll both be inside you at the same time.”
“I didn’t know that was possible.”
He gave her a comic look that made her giggle. Then Michael stroked his lube-covered fingers over her anus, and her giggle turned to a moan.
“It’s not only possible it’s an event we’re very much
looking forward to.”
Abigail felt her nipples go hard as Michael inserted a finger into her back opening, as he began to ream that finger in and out of her and then added a second. The burning of his finger-fucking spread over her entire body, the edge of discomfort somehow taking her arousal and making it deeper and wider and more.
“Don’t let me hurt you, sweetheart. If it becomes too much, stop me.”
Abigail understood there would be pain, but right then, she didn’t care about pain. She needed his cock in her ass because it would mean that every single part of her belonged to him and, by extension, to his brother.
“Please, Michael, fuck me. I need you to fuck my ass.”
“Abby.”
Just that, her name said in near reverence. She felt his fingers withdraw from her body and something much bigger and much hotter take their place.
Michael used a hand to push on the right side of her ass, effectively spreading her cheeks wider, as he pressed into her. The burning returned, a steady, building sensation that morphed into an almost blinding pain. She felt her rosebud open, stretch, and gasped as the pain nearly, very nearly did become too much.
A tight, sudden glide announced the head of Michael’s cock was inside her anus. He moved, pushed in farther, and Abigail’s arousal began to race.
“Oh…oh, yes. Fuck me. Hurry! I need…” She wanted to push against him but couldn’t. Michael moved inside her, a slow, hot thrust that made every nerve ending in her body dance. Then he withdrew a little and pushed in again. And again. And again.
“More…oh, more, please!” Abigail met Carson’s gaze. Whatever he saw when he looked at her made him smile.
“You better do what our woman says, brother. Her pussy is gushing all over me.”
That must have been what Michael was waiting to hear because he began, in the next heartbeat, to really fuck her. Moving slowly then faster, he fucked her ass the same way he’d fucked her pussy and her mouth, and arousal gathered and soared, higher, faster. Abigail was so close to coming, nearly there, but was totally at the mercy of her hormones. She whimpered and felt as if she was clawing for purchase, reaching for a reward that kept inching just out of reach.
“Fuck, I’m going to come. Do it.” Michael’s impassioned words as he cried out and thrust even faster made no sense until Carson used his hand to stroke and then pinch her clit.
“Michael!” Abigail’s scream was torn from her, heart and soul, as her climax exploded, as the fire of Eros consumed her until she didn’t know if she would ever be the same again. Inside her, the pulsing of Michael’s cock, the heat of his cum inside the condom hitting her sensitive inner tissues, tossed her orgasm on a sea of sensation, making it longer, harder, and, to Abigail’s dazed thoughts, totally and completely life altering.
“Sweetheart?” Michael’s soft question in her ear, the way his hand caressed her hip and leg, stirred her.
He wanted something from her, something verbal. Only two words could emerge. “Thank you.” She simply couldn’t think of anything more to say right then. She’d experienced more passion, more completion, more…everything than she’d dreamed she ever would know.
Surrounded by soft male chuckles, sensing arms holding her safe and lips caressing her shoulder, Abigail dropped off into an exhausted sleep.
* * * *
Michael moved slowly, raising himself up and supporting his head with his hand. He felt mesmerized watching Abigail sleep. Curled into Carson’s chest, their woman appeared completely boneless as she used his older brother for her pillow. Michael had awakened when she’d turned over from where she’d settled into his arms after he’d returned from the bathroom. He recalled feeling her drop into slumber and happily following her. The red light of the bedside clock told him it was nearly three thirty in the morning.
They’d slept barely two hours.
Her softly whispered “Thank you” after he’d taken her ass had drawn a chuckle from both him and Carson. Michael ran his hand down her back. The mumbled “your turn” as she’d rolled over moments ago, unguarded and real, gave him pause. He’d have to think about those words, and what they meant, but for now, in this pre-dawn hour, he contented himself with simply drinking her in with his eyes.
Clearly, Abigail Parker had no idea how truly special she was, nor did she have any concept how deeply he and Carson both already loved her.
Michael sighed. Words in literature about being in love, the words and actions he’d borne witness to all his life as he’d grown up in Lusty, Texas, all paled when compared to the reality of the emotions coursing through him now.
He understood, and accepted as natural, he’d not only kill for her—he’d die for her. She stirred under his hand, and he froze. He didn’t want to wake her, even if the greedy bastard living inside him wanted to make love to her again and again and again.
Abigail settled down after a moment, and he sighed in relief. Because he knew she needed her sleep, and the chances were very good that he’d end up waking her up simply because he was having a hell of a time keeping his hands off her, Michael eased himself from the bed. After a quick detour to his own bedroom for a pair of pajama bottoms, he headed into the living room where he poured himself a glass of Tennessee whiskey from the bottle on the bar. The lights of Houston drew him, as they often did in the middle of the night. This building wasn’t the tallest one in this neighborhood, which was why he’d grabbed the pants. Completely comfortable in his skin, he nonetheless had no desire to flash the neighbors.
Michael’s thoughts returned to the woman sleeping just down the hall in the master suite. He never once imagined that falling in love could illuminate so many different things for him, things he’d either taken for granted or discounted entirely. How amazing that a simple emotion could change his perspective so completely about everything.
There’s nothing simple about love. No, there certainly wasn’t. He’d imagined being in love would solidify his world, and it had. But it also set his world on end. He felt both anchored and apprehensive at the same time. Would he ever feel secure in his love? Would he ever not worry about Abigail, her safety, her happiness…or hell, even her staying with them?
He and Carson had spoken earlier about whether or not it was fair for them to bind her to them when she was truly just beginning to experience life. He’d listened to Carson as he’d voiced his worry that they would be stopping her from exploring, from spreading her wings and taking advantage of being unfettered for the first time in her life. That tying her to them would, in fact, be a disservice to her.
Lesson one on love. It’s definitely a case of damned if we do and damned if we don’t.
As he pondered the lights outside the window, something his mother once said echoed in his memory. There was quite an age difference between her and his fathers Gerald and Patrick—ten and nine years respectively. His mother had been only twenty-one when she arrived in Lusty. He recalled the time one of his female cousins had asked her if she’d felt overwhelmed at such a young age. His mother had laughed. “Oh, I don’t know that age is any kind of yardstick at all for any situation. The real question is whether a person knows their own mind and their own heart.”
Did Abigail know her own heart? He’d already had some indication she certainly knew her own mind. Michael guessed that only time would tell. He longed to tell her just exactly how he felt about her. And he would. They would. He needed to speak to Carson about a plan going forward.
His love for their woman and his dreams for all their future could be were far too important to screw up. Carson was better at relationships, at knowing just what would work, than he himself was. He looked down at the amber liquor in his glass. He swirled the whiskey then brought it to his lips. The warmth and potency of the alcohol settled him and gave him the nudge he needed to think about the next thing. Speaking of screwing things up.
Tomorrow, perhaps over breakfast, he and Carson should talk with Abigail about one of the finer points of a ménage. He had a
sense that she felt she had to give them equal time. The words she’d mumbled, half asleep as she’d turned over to snuggle Carson said as much. They’d have to let her know neither of them was keeping score, nor were they ever likely to. He and his brother had been raised by a ménage. They’d seen up close and personal that it was not just a union of three but, in a very real sense, two unions of two. They would find their own balance, the three of them. Neither could he ever be jealous of Carson or vice-versa. Perhaps other men, other brothers, not raised in Lusty, and without the family history, might be challenged when it came to sharing a woman—sharing a wife.
He’d have to see if he could find the right words to let her know that the only thing he felt when watching Carson make love to her was gratitude. Michael Benedict felt profoundly grateful they’d finally found the woman meant to be theirs, a woman with a bottomless well of love in her heart. She worried about keeping things even? They’d never be even, but whether she realized it or not, she already loved both of them.
He was one of two of the luckiest men in the entire world.
Chapter Seventeen
Neil Farnsworth wiped the sweat from his brow before it could sting his eyes. His heart felt like it was pounding right out of his chest, and he wondered, for just a moment, if he was, in fact, having a heart attack. He held his handgun in a one-handed grip, pointed to the ceiling, the cold barrel of the Beretta resting against his cheek.
Getting the gun had been the easiest part of his preparations. All he’d had to do was ask a man in the street, who’d introduced him to another man at the other end of town.
Hundred bucks later, he was armed—and with an untraceable weapon.
Labor Day in Lusty, Texas [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Menage Everlasting) Page 14
