Lustful Intentions [Climax, Montana 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Reece Butler

  She didn’t realize the ropes had been released until she was flipped on her front and hauled to the edge of the bed. Someone spread her knees and entered her in one deep thrust. She hissed as he slid in, stretching her tissues. It felt so good to be filled with a hot, hard cock!

  Each stroke was different, aimed to slide along her flesh to hit hidden pockets of nerves. She panted, her tight fists gripping the sheet when he gasped, held himself still for a second, and then furiously pounded into her, roaring. She tried to catch up. She was so close to release when he pulled out.

  She smashed her right fist on the mattress in frustration. She tried to jerk up but a hand in the middle of her back held her down. Someone leaned close.

  “You weren’t going to complain were you?” It was Sam who murmured. “The other night was about you. Tonight is about us. We’re going to do what we like, unless you say otherwise.”

  He spread her back cheeks. Something wet and cold touched. She clenched tight.

  “Nuh-uh. Relax and let me in.”

  Trey rubbed his finger around her rim. Frustrated and furious she might be, but she wanted this. They both groaned when his finger breached her. He slid in and out as she gradually relaxed. Those fingers were the center of everything. Not just one, but soon two, and then three, with more cold gel each time. By then another hand caressed her pussy, stroking the inside. Now and then it touched her clit.

  “You’re ready as you’ll ever be.”

  His fingers pulled out. She missed them until the head of a cock breached her opening. It was huge!

  “Relax and push me out,” he ordered.

  She panted, but did as ordered. When she pushed, he slipped in. He waited for her to relax then, slowly and steadily, he continued. It was an invasion, something totally alien. He pulled back, the friction of his cock a reward. She felt far more sensation here than when a cock entered her pussy, though when they hit one of her special spots, it was as good. Back and forth, taking his time, Trey filled her, his cock deep and hard. He leaned over and kissed her neck.

  “Good girl,” he murmured. “You like that, don’t you?”

  She remembered just in time to nod rather than speak. He nipped her earlobe.

  “Very good, Katie. You learn well.”

  He pulled out, added more lube, and reentered even slower. She groaned at the sensuous glide.

  “I think Katie’s ready for both of us,” said Trey, his voice tight. “Too bad you already finished.”

  “I’m ready for more,” replied Sam. “If you’re up for it?” His hands sifted through her hair, caressing, then tugging. The short, sharp pain sent a dagger of need through her.

  “What do you say, Katie? Both of us at once?”

  Her mind raced. Marci said it would work, and she was no bigger. Katie’d never felt so wild and crazy, so needy. Who knew if she’d ever have a chance again? Her analytical mind clicked in. How could she ask how it would work if she couldn’t speak?

  “Lift your head.”

  She obeyed Sam’s order, then blinked when he removed her blindfold. He settled on the bed beside her.

  “You’ll sit on me and ride for a while,” he said with utter seriousness. “When you’re ready, Trey will kneel behind you. You’re on top, so you control everything. Got it?”

  She opened her mouth to reply, then shut it with a snap. Instead, she nodded. Trey tossed Sam a condom, and he covered himself. Trey helped her to stand over Sam, feet at either side of his hips. A slow smile reached his eyes. He shook his head, sighing.

  “Damn, Katie. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

  She pointed at his fully erect cock. He laughed, far more relaxed than she’d heard him before.

  “Yeah, I guess that does give a clue. Come here, sweetie.”

  He cupped his hands, gesturing for her to sit. She waited, thinking. She couldn’t talk, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t communicate. She leaned forward and shimmied her shoulders. Her suspended breasts jiggled.

  “Oh man, one of these days I’ll put my face right there.”

  It was Trey, from behind her, who spoke. Sam didn’t seem to be able to get his tongue working. She considered stepping closer to his shoulders and then sitting, demanding that he lick her. He must’ve realized she had something in mind because he set his hands on her calves and tugged. She wavered, arms flailing. Trey held her from toppling. Sam tugged again. Trey, the traitor, helped her to land in the right spot. As in his cock sticking up between her back cheeks.

  “You ever ride a man?” asked Sam. She shook her head. “I think you’ll like it.”

  She liked the idea of being on top, in control. Or as much control as she could with two strong men guiding her. She reached behind and took Sam’s cock. She rose up and, shuffling backward, positioned him. He crossed his hands behind his head as if he was on the beach. His expression said she was to go for it. She sat down, moaning as her tissues stretched around his cock.

  She rocked back and forth, trying different angles until she found one that was just right. She leaned forward, placed her palms on Sam’s chest, and gripped his cock with her inside muscles. She ground her clit into his groin. She could feel the coiling, the tension of release tantalizingly close. She leaned forward until Sam’s cock was almost out. A pair of hands grabbed her hips and stopped her from moving.

  “My turn.”

  She turned her head to watch. Trey applied more lube before slowly entering her ass again. She closed her eyes, dropped her head, and just felt. Sam’s cock was barely an inch inside her pussy. All three of them groaned. She’d thought she was full before. That was nothing to now.

  With their help and guidance, she moved back and forth. They moved in and out like pistons. Tension piled even higher. She panted, eyes screwed shut. Nothing existed but their touch. Trey released her hips.

  “Go for it, baby.”

  She did, grinding and pounding forward and back, one man and the other, until finally her coil of tension burst. She stopped, unable to move. She heard a distant bellow, then another. All that mattered was friction from the pair of men who filled her, meeting her needs before theirs.

  Sometime later she slumped onto Sam’s chest. She couldn’t see, nor could she hear over the rushing in her ears and the pounding in her chest. She hauled air in great gulps. Then…nothing.

  Chapter 22

  “Mrs. Winterbourne, unless you retire there’s a good chance you won’t make seventy-five. You need to relax. Your family is worried about you.”

  Hildy lifted a haughty eyebrow. She was short and female, and all her life she’d been surrounded by arrogant males. She’d used whatever advantages she could, and would continue to do the same. Her family wasn’t worried about her health. They were upset at waiting to get their hands on the power she held. They were the ones who caused her the most upset, not the business.

  “Doctor Graham, I married a very determined man when I was sixteen and had Walter at seventeen. When my husband died suddenly just before I turned thirty I took over a floundering company while raising five sons. I’ve built Winterbourne’s Fine Furniture into the success it is today. I am not going to retire to bake cookies and knit socks!”

  He leaned forward, clasping his hands on his maple desk. She noticed small irregularities in the finish. It was not one of their pieces. Her refusal to tolerate imperfection had put the Winterbourne company above the rest.

  “Let me put it another way, Mrs. Winterbourne. Your eldest son is fifty-three years old. Don’t you think it’s time Walter has a chance to run the family business? Or do you need to be in a grave first? Because that’s what you’re facing with another heart attack.”

  Walter had no vision, and he was a pompous fool. But he was the eldest. He would not tolerate one of his brothers taking over. They’d known that all their lives. Not that any of them had vision. Only one person in her family had that, and Katie would never hold any meaningful power. She was young, female, and didn’t have the cutthroa
t abilities her dear sons valued.

  “Walter’s been whispering in your ear, has he?”

  The doctor didn’t try to hide it. He knew not to lie or pussyfoot around her.

  “If I may be so bold, you are an attractive, vibrant woman of seventy. You’ve been without a companion for forty years. Why don’t you take a cruise, go dancing, and meet some men who are not the least interested in furniture?”

  “A cruise? You wish me to surround myself with a thousand noisy people cramped into a floating theme park hotel?”

  “I happen to enjoy cruises. But each to his, or her, own. Do whatever you like, as long as you get away from the business, and the Internet.”

  “What, go to the Australian Outback?”

  She was acting like a teenager, flailing out. No wonder, as she had the same frustrations. Her family wanted to control her, saying they knew best. But they didn’t know her, her needs, or her dreams. They wanted what was best for them, not for her.

  “You have the time and money to go anywhere you like. You will also have your health if you take a good break and do something entirely different from what you’re used to. But you don’t have to go to Australia. There are cabins in the Rocky Mountains where you can have all the luxuries of home, without the world intruding.”

  Hildy sat back and thought. She’d had to be aware of so much, for so long. A forest fire or typhoon in the Philippines would affect her supply chain. So would an insect infestation or a country changing its export conditions. So much she had to know to keep her company ahead of the tidal wave. At least, it always felt like a tidal wave about to crash down and obliterate her.

  She’d come close to crashing with her bout of pneumonia, which her sons were using as an excuse to clear her out of the way. She’d known it was coming. That knowledge didn’t make it any easier. She’d felt like the Queen of England, knowing she could not hand over her crown to her son, so she’d hoped for an excellent grandchild. While England’s Elizabeth had a pair of grandsons who could each make a good king, she had mostly weaklings.

  “I’ll think about it.” She gathered her energy and stood.

  The doctor rose as well, looming over her. “Please do more than think about it, Mrs. Winterbourne. If you end up back in my hospital we’ll tie you to the bed this time. Now get out of my office, get healthy, and get a life. That’s an order.”

  “I don’t take orders well,” she replied, narrowing her eyes.

  He leaned forward and lowered his voice, making her strain to listen. She knew those tricks though she could never do the height thing since she was barely over five feet.

  “I will say this quietly, and only once. Walter’s making noises about you standing in his way. If you don’t take care of yourself, your family will. You know that phrase about your children choosing your nursing home?” He nodded, emphasizing the point. “I’ve been asked if you are mentally competent. Another doctor who didn’t know you as well might assume your outbursts were signs of dementia, rather than frustration.”

  Hildy swallowed hard. She didn’t doubt that her sons, aided by their wives and children, were eager to put her away. Far away. They were all money-grubbing, backstabbing hypocrites, except the youngest. Dear Katie had never fit in. The girl was smart, but no shark. That’s why Hildy sent her away, hoping she’d find something better than being devoured by the family business.

  From the reports Katie sent to Hildy’s private e-mail account, her true personality had burst forth, along with her riot of red curls. The last photo, taken long-range by her chief of security, showed her at a cattle ranch, laughing as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Two tall, handsome cowboys were with her. Hildy had experienced a stab of jealousy when she saw the photo. She’d grown up in the country and had always wanted to return. As for having a cowboy of her own…Gentlemen friends had been impossible, until now.

  “After my husband died I had no time to be with my children,” she admitted. “I regret that, but had little choice. I blame myself for the way they’ve turned out.”

  “I doubt Walter would be much different no matter how he was treated,” replied the doctor drily. “As for you, your body has been stressed to the limit. You may live a long time, but you won’t enjoy much quality of life unless you do something drastic.”

  A brisk knock announced the next patient. When the door opened, Walter’s wife was waiting for her. The shackles of family obligations closed around her. The invisible chains dragged her down. She suddenly felt all seventy of her years, plus another twenty.

  “Mother, you must tell us where you are going.” Stephanie always spoke shrilly to her, as if she couldn’t hear. “It’s very upsetting when you disappear.”

  “This appointment was on my calendar, Stephanie.” Not that it was any of her business.

  “You need to take things easy in your old age,” continued Stephanie, ignoring what she did not wish to hear. “I’ll help you find a retirement place. You will be able to relax.”

  “And do what?”

  Stephanie’s eyes flicked around as she desperately searched for an answer. She didn’t frown because she couldn’t, thanks to Botox.

  “Whatever old people do.” She flipped a hand. “Cards and shuffleboard? My mother loves her bingo. She won twenty-five dollars last week.”

  Hildy kept her face blank. “Thank you, Stephanie. What an excellent idea. I will certainly consider that.”

  Shuffleboard and bingo? Win a paltry amount of money when she had millions invested? Why the hell would she want to subject herself to boring old people?

  A few games of cut-throat poker might be fun. Or strip poker? Oh lord, wouldn’t that get Stuffy Stephanie’s girdle in a twist! She needed interaction with people who were alert and alive, not old fogies. And, considering her children and their spouses, ‘old’ had nothing to do with biological age.

  Harry, her chauffeur, opened the door for her. They shared an eye roll. He was a huge man, bald and covered with tats. He was also a pussycat. He and his buddies volunteered with Bikers Against Child Abuse. They’d roar up on their bikes to the child’s home like a gang, all dressed in their colors. They made sure everyone knew they cared, and woe betide anyone who even thought to harm the child again.

  Hildy had made plans so Harry would get a good pension when she left the company. Walter would immediately fire him, and anyone else who had close ties to her. The man was such a paranoid control freak that he didn’t trust his left hand with his right.

  The concierge, Jacob, had been with her from the beginning. She’d shocked many when she’d promoted the black man. He was the only one who called her Hildy, and only in private. The only hugs she’d received in years were from Harry, Jacob, and Katie. Her personal assistant and her chief of security would also be well taken care of.

  Yes, it was time to let go. Nothing would stop her from continuing to help the charities she’d believed in. She might finally get a chance to put on a helmet and boots and ride behind Harry on his Harley! He’d been offering for years, but she hadn’t dared. She sat up straighter. It was damn well time she lived her life instead of watching it go by!

  She ignored Stephanie, who chattered on about how wonderful her children were, and how Walter would make sure they did well in the new corporate structure. As in, when Hildy was gone, or dead.

  The feeding frenzy of sharks smelling her blood had already begun. She had to disappear, quickly. When she took the family portrait from her office, Benson, her chief of security, would instigate the Trojan horse program and retire. She’d do nothing to damage the company, but it would protect the things important to her. Walter didn’t realize that not everything he saw belonged to the company. She’d kept a few things for herself, including those barns of old and beautiful wood.

  ’’She felt old and tired but she would not give up until she had a plan. She wanted…joy. Laughter. Snuggling. The strong arms of a man who said that everything would be all right and meant every word. She wanted to be cherish
ed and loved and treated as a precious flower by a man like the ones in Katie’s photo, only much older. A silver fox with a personality even stronger than her own, who would sweep her off her feet and into his bed.

  She wanted…a cowboy.

  Benson had investigated the town of Climax, and the Elliott family in particular. He reported there were some colorful personalities, as well as unusual lifestyle choices. All that mattered to Hildy was that Katie seemed quite happy. She sounded so in her e-mails. Keith Adams’s project intrigued her. Katie didn’t say what they were building, other than it would never interfere with the Winterbourne Fine Furniture Company. Benson said Mr. Adams had quite a forceful personality, as did a number of other ranchers. He’d added, with a wink, that there were a few interesting gentlemen at the senior’s facility, as well.

  Harry slowed at the guardhouse for the heavy, black, wrought-iron gates to open. As they drove through, Hildy felt the bands around her chest squeeze the breath right out of her. Her heart fluttered. She had to escape this mausoleum.

  Benson said the seniors’ residence took guests as well as locals. They allowed well-behaved pets, such as Socrates. She’d go there, using her maiden name. Her family would never think to look for Ms. Hildy Janacek. She’d book accommodation for three weeks and see how it went. Maybe one of those unattached older men would court her…

  Stephanie raced off to change for her tennis luncheon. Hildy told Harry to keep the car handy as she may go out. She put her feet up and had a cup of tea in her favorite chair, cuddling Socrates. Unlike most of her Minton teacup collection, the flowers on the Spring Blossom pattern seemed wild. Hildy took it as a sign to let go.

  An hour later she stood in the office where she’d spent most of her life. Her desk had been cleared. Everything had been put neatly in a box. That would’ve been done by Abigail, her personal assistant. She’d told Abby to follow Walter’s orders when it came time. She walked over to the wall and lifted down the family portrait. She’d leave it behind and look to the future, rather than the past.