by Mari Carr
Christian had obviously had some practice. Their mouths opened at the same time, their tongues touching. It was a rough kiss, powerful, masculine. The two of them held nothing back, didn’t attempt to soften it. It was a claiming, plain and simple.
As they kissed, Charlotte continued to stroke them. At some point, he and Christian turned toward each other more fully. Vincent kept one hand on Charlotte’s head, stroking her hair, as the other rested on Christian’s waist.
He jerked slightly when Charlotte brought his dick alongside Christian’s. With two hands forming a circle around their cocks, she added an entirely new dimension to the hand job. As she worked their flesh together, he and Christian began thrusting their hips toward each other, just slight movements, but enough to add even more pressure to a pot that was too fucking close to boiling over.
Time to get control. Time to take over.
Vincent broke off the kiss and took a step back, out of Charlotte’s reach.
“Get on the bed, Christian. Sit with your back against the headboard.”
Christian reacted to his deep command without question.
Once he was in position, Vincent turned his attention to his other lover. “You’re a clever architect, Charlotte. And one night we’re going to explore some of these grand designs of yours. But not tonight. Get on your hands and knees in front of Christian. Suck his cock like you mean it.”
She grinned, and then, halle-fucking-lujah, she did as he asked.
Christian groaned as she engulfed him in her mouth, his hands flying to her hair. “Easy, Charlotte. Too much of that and I’m going to come.”
She released him, then gave Christian a quick kiss. “Isn’t that the point?”
“It is, but something tells me Vincent’s got a lot more in mind. I’d hate to miss it.”
Charlotte giggled, but the sound died when Vincent climbed on the bed, kneeling behind her.
“Birth control?” Vincent asked. He’d use a condom if he had to, but damn if he wouldn’t resent having the rubber between him and her.
“Yes. It’s safe.”
He waited, wanting more of a response. It was her decision to make.
“We’re going to be married,” she finally said. “If we don’t need to use condoms, I’d rather not.”
“I’m clean,” Christian said.
“Me too,” Vincent added.
“Then it’s all systems go,” Charlotte replied with a wicked, sexy grin.
Vincent fell in love with her. Right there in that moment.
Charlotte turned her attention back to Christian, whose head fell back against the headboard with a thud, his eyes closing in bliss.
Vincent gripped Charlotte’s hip, then used one hand to guide his dick to her opening. She moaned as he pressed in, that sound driving Christian even closer to the brink.
“Fuck. Me,” Christian gritted out. Then his eyes opened, locking on Vincent. “You better make this fast, friend.”
Vincent chuckled, but made no promises as he slowly drove deeper into her body. He wasn’t going to rush a damn thing.
Or at least that was the plan. Until Charlotte took over once more.
She was there to meet Vincent thrust for thrust, adding her own strength and speed, forcing him to keep up. And Vincent could almost feel sorry for Christian, for the way she was taking him deep into her mouth, sucking him roughly.
Endurance was tossed out the window in this race. All he and Christian could do was sprint toward the finish line in a weak attempt to keep up with her.
Christian fell first, his hands gripping her hair tightly as he came. Vincent was helpless to stop, to give way. He pounded harder, the image of Christian coming causing his balls to tighten.
“Fuck,” Vincent said through gritted teeth.
Charlotte had released Christian, which only made things worse. Her cries, her curses, her praises were unhindered.
“Oh my God, Vincent. So hot. You’re so fucking hot. Harder,” she begged.
He tried to give her what she wanted, but increasing the pace only drove him closer to the end. “Charlotte. Beauty.”
Christian reached for Charlotte, kissing her as Vincent fucked her from behind. Vincent grasped her hands, tugging them behind her back and caging her wrists in his hands.
Charlotte cried out, her back arching. She tried to break free of his grip, but he tightened the hold.
Her forehead rested against Christian’s chest. The fact that she loved being rendered helpless wasn’t lost on either of them.
Christian’s gaze met his. “Ours,” he mouthed.
Vincent nodded, even as he continued to fuck her.
Christian cupped her face, pulled it up to his.
“You like that big cock inside you, don’t you, baby? Filling you up. Taking you hard,” Christian murmured.
If Vincent had had any strength left, he would have groaned. Christian was a dirty talker. Now, he was well and truly fucked.
“You belong to us, Charlotte. We’re going to tie you up, make you come. With our mouths, our fingers, our dicks.”
“Yes,” she hissed. “Please.” Her voice broke on the last. It was the greatest thing Vincent had ever heard. Because it set him free.
“Charlotte…” Vincent said, trying to warn her. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t…
She came. Loudly. Her pussy clenched tightly, milking every drop of come from him as his body jerked roughly.
Vincent wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when he’d managed to get a drop or three of blood back to his brain, he found himself lying on his side, spooning Christian, who was cuddling with Charlotte.
He listened to the two of them kiss, imagining a lifetime of this, of them. Vincent had always thought it would be hard at first, making a trinity work. He was a demanding son of a bitch, too used to getting his way. He had assumed that making his life fit with two other intelligent, successful people would be trickier than this.
His ruminations were cut short when Christian rolled away from him, coming over Charlotte. He’d clearly recovered from the blowjob and wanted his own opportunity to consummate the relationship.
Charlotte gasped when Christian pressed in. No doubt she was a bit sore. He’d taken her like an animal. Vincent tried to work up some guilt over that, but nothing came. He’d take her exactly the same way the next time, and the time after that. He wanted her too badly to go the slow and easy route. Maybe in a few years they’d be able to burn through some of this insatiable lust.
Maybe.
But he wasn’t betting the house on that.
Christian seemed to have better control on his baser needs. He rocked inside their partner gently, lovingly. It was beautiful to watch.
Vincent wasn’t content to remain apart. He scooted next to Charlotte as she lay on her back. He ran his hand along Christian’s side before taking a second to grip his tight, firm ass.
Christian glanced at him. “You’re killing me, man.”
“Get used to it,” Vincent warned.
He pressed his finger between Christian’s ass cheeks and ran it over his anus. It was just a tease. They weren’t there yet, but Vincent suspected it wouldn’t take them long to get to that point.
“Fuck me,” Christian murmured.
“Soon.” Vincent cemented that promise with a soft kiss to Christian’s shoulder. Then he turned his attention to Charlotte, who’d watched the interchange between her lovers with great interest.
As he would have expected, her silence on the matter was short-lived.
“You guys are so fucking hot together.”
It was then Vincent realized there was no jealousy at play. That was the other thing he’d always worried about prior to the binding. He didn’t share his things well. Curse of growing up with nothing. Once he obtained something he wanted, he held on to it with both hands, tenaciously, viciously.
Sharing Charlotte with Christian—and Christian with Charlotte—felt completely natural to him.
“
Is that right?” Vincent said, moving closer to kiss her. He hadn’t had enough time with her lips. It was amazing how just one day could feel like a lifetime and mere minutes all at the same time.
As they kissed, Christian continued to move inside her. Vincent reached between them to rub Charlotte’s clit. It was like pulling the trigger on a gun. She began to move, pressing herself upwards toward Christian, whose thrusting grew faster.
Vincent released her lips, letting his mouth travel downwards to her breast. He hadn’t had any time with them, an oversight he planned to correct. He took her nipple between his teeth, increasing the pressure until she hissed.
He waited for her to ask him to stop, to protest, to say the safe word, but she did none of that.
Instead, she placed her hand on the back of his head. “Do that again,” she said.
Vincent lifted his face to hers. She had enjoyed the bondage. And she liked the pain, but she had serious issues submitting.
The tune to “Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad” drifted through his mind.
Charlotte gave him a quizzical look. “Why are you smiling?”
He shook his head. “Just planning all the ways I intend to punish you for trying to take over tonight.”
She gave him a sassy grin. “I wouldn’t say I tried. I’d say I succeeded.”
He chuckled, then turned his attention to Christian, who groaned. “Jesus. I’d like to laugh, but I’m too fucking close.”
And just like that, the humor turned to passion, the fun to hunger.
Vincent rested his head on his elbow and watched his lovers reach their climax together. They were both incredibly beautiful. Charlotte with her pale complexion touched with a handful of freckles, bright blue eyes, and shimmering red hair. Christian’s skin was darker, though Vincent suspected his tan was more natural coloring than tanning bed. His dirty-blond hair was just a touch too long, not because Christian needed a haircut, but more because the shaggier style suited him. His expressive light brown eyes sometimes appeared green.
When Christian withdrew, he climbed over Vincent, his two lovers flanking him, each of them rolling toward him as he lay on his back. They both wrapped an arm around him, Christian claiming his waist, Charlotte his chest.
Vincent was their polar opposite. His dark brown skin was the direct counterpart to their white. And the contrasts didn’t stop there when he figured in his black hair and eyes. He was dark to their light. It was a beautiful blend.
Sleep wasn’t too far off for any of them, exhaustion setting in. Regardless, none of them seemed ready to part, even in slumber.
“You have a nickname, Charlotte? Anybody ever call you Charlie or Lottie or something?” Christian asked.
Charlotte shook her head. “No. None of those. My dad has a nickname for me, but I’m not telling you guys. You’re both just ornery enough to adopt it, and then I’d have to kill you.”
Christian lifted his head to look at her across Vincent’s chest. “Well, now you have to tell us.”
“It’s a really silly one, not even worth repeating.”
“Tell us anyway,” Vincent prodded, his curiosity piqued.
Charlotte sighed. “Okay, but I am not giving you permission to use it. He calls me Chuck.”
Christian laughed. “Seriously?”
“I have no idea how he made the leap from Charlotte to Chuck, but once he did, he never crossed back. Worst part is my mom has recently picked up the habit.”
“Chuck,” Vincent said, grinning. “I like it.”
“Vincent,” she warned.
He placed a kiss on her forehead. “Don’t worry, Charlotte. I much prefer the nickname beauty.”
She nuzzled closer to him, her cheek resting on his chest. “You can use that name as much as you like.”
Christian reached over him to cup Charlotte’s hip. No matter how physically close the three of them got, it was never close enough.
“I think we should make a quick trip to New York tomorrow,” Vincent said, when he recalled the tasks the Grand Master had assigned. The sooner they accomplished them, the sooner he could claim these two as his. Forever. He wasn’t in the mood to wait.
“Why?” Charlotte asked.
“I’m a member of a club there. It’s larger than the one here in Boston and because it’s in New York, it caters to locals as well as people in the city on vacation. I think it’s our best shot at learning more about Caden Anderson. I know quite a few people there and they trust me. It’s the perfect place to dig.”
“Sounds like a good idea. Plus, it’ll give me a chance to stop by my apartment to grab some more clothes. I only packed enough for a week, but it sounds to me like we may be in Boston longer than that. Depending on the extent of that blueprint the Grand Master wants Charlotte to study.”
“New York it is,” Charlotte agreed.
Vincent watched her eyes drift closed, but he felt the need to clear up one more thing. “Charlotte.”
She looked at him with sleep-heavy lids. “Hmmm.”
“I know it might be difficult for you, but at my club, I’m…” He hesitated, trying to figure out how to explain without frightening her.
“You’re the Dom. I’m the sub,” she whispered.
He nodded, the words giving him no comfort. She could say it, but she didn’t seem capable of walking it. “Yes. I have a reputation as a strict master.”
“Okay.”
Her tone proved she didn’t have a clue what he truly meant.
Christian’s hand returned to Vincent’s chest. “Don’t worry, Vincent. I’ll show her the way. You just follow my lead, okay, Chuck?”
Charlotte rolled her eyes, then laughed, then agreed. “I won’t mess this up, Vincent. I know how important this is…for us. And our future.”
Vincent kissed her. And then Christian.
And then the three of them gave in to sleep.
But it wasn’t as lonely as Vincent expected. Because Christian and Charlotte were still there with him. In his dreams.
Chapter Four
Christian walked a couple of steps behind Vincent as they entered his club, Iron and Ice. Charlotte was beside him, holding his hand just a touch too tightly. She was nervous.
The trip to New York had been an experience in and of itself. Vincent owned a private jet and initiated Christian and Charlotte into the mile-high club. In serious fucking style.
Christian had slipped away from his lovers at first light after a text from Sebastian. At his brother’s request, Christian met with him and Juliette at the Starbucks near the library. Christian filled them in on what the bartender had told them.
“Did the bartender know Darling’s name?” Juliette had asked. She was disappointed when Christian said no. It was clear Darling was as much of interest to the Trinity Masters as Caden. He told them about the planned trip to New York, and Juliette had told him that they shouldn’t approach Caden if they saw him. She repeated Sebastian’s comments from the previous day, warned him that Caden was a dangerous man.
While they were drinking their coffee, Juliette had gotten a call from some man named Price who confirmed that someone named Cobb was alive.
Ever since learning there was an insidious underbelly to the society he’d grown up in, grown up vowing was the most incorruptible, most respectable group of patriots, Christian had been reeling.
Seeing the strain in Juliette’s eyes and the almost angry determination to right a very evil wrong on Sebastian’s face, Christian had picked up the cause. He knew Juliette well enough to know it gave her no pleasure putting the members in harm’s way. But obviously, this problem was too big for her and her counselors to handle alone.
Christian wouldn’t let these so-called purists continue to harm the Trinity Masters. The purpose of the society was simply too important. Without it, he genuinely believed the country would stumble, falter, possibly even fall. The United States needed the Trinity Masters.
This BDSM club was indeed much larger than the Boston one
, just as Vincent had said. And given the number of people who had already acknowledged Vincent, either with a word of welcome or quick nod of the head, he hadn’t exaggerated his popularity here.
They hadn’t had much time to get ready. Though it was a short flight, Vincent had decided they should come right to the club. They planned to get there early and stay all night in order to get the most possible exposure and to ask as many questions as they could. That meant the car service that picked them up from the private airfield had to first stop at an adult store. Vincent had told him and Charlotte to wait in the car, then returned with a large bag.
It wasn’t until they’d arrived at the club and checked in that they found out what was in it. If the club in Boston felt almost like a speakeasy, this one felt like a dangerous underground fighting ring. The club was located on the upper floor of a warehouse in Hell’s Kitchen. Heavy security guarded the large bay doors on the first floor. The driver pulled in after speaking to a guard and parked on the empty first floor, clearly prepared to wait for them. Christian had wondered how much that would cost.
They climbed one flight of stairs until they reached the foreman’s loft—a low-ceilinged room mounted midway up the gable wall of the warehouse. There, Vincent ushered them inside and opened his shopping bag. Charlotte hadn’t balked, but Christian almost had. Only Vincent’s calm, stern commands had allowed him to follow through with it.
When they’d emerged, Vincent had been wearing the same thing as yesterday—black from head to toe, the garments deceptively casual but so well made they screamed of money.
Charlotte was wearing a sheer black teddy with glossy black straps that crisscrossed her upper and lower back and her chest. The fabric of the garment started just above her nipples and finished just below her crotch. She wore black, lacy boy-cut shorts, which he knew from her shocked exclamation were crotchless. The fabric covered her breasts, but was sheer enough that in the normal lighting of the foreman’s loft, he could see her nipples. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and just long enough that it provided some extra coverage. She’d brought the black stilettos from Boston.
