Triple Threat_An MFMM Romance

by Daphne Dawn

  “Fuck me!” Her voice is a breathy whisper. “Fuck me hard!”

  I keep my eyes on her as I start to drive my hips into her, again and again, as hard as I can. The force of my thrusts bends her back, bucks her hips. She grips my arms for leverage and thrusts back just as hard.

  Her eyes don’t leave my face. She stares me down as I fuck her.

  Her face is still composed, but I can tell from the heat and clenching in her pussy that she’s loving my cock. She loves my hard thrusts and my cock slamming into her.

  “Faster,” she whispers.

  I can’t keep the slow rhythm anyway. I grab her ass, flicking her legs up over my shoulders as I slam into her, hard and fast. She moans, writhes, and claws at the couch around her like she’s trying to get away.

  As I hold her tight to keep that deep wet cave right where I want it, she starts to really moan. As I increase my pace and strength, it becomes a scream. I’m focused on the pumping of my cock, and I don’t notice for a second what she’s screaming.

  She’s screaming my name.

  “Antonio!”

  I breathe hard, puffing like a racehorse after a few miles, cock twitching deep inside her, head spinning. She looks up at me, and the warmth is not just in my cock.

  It’s in my chest.

  I care about her. I want to know what’s going on behind those eyes.

  The next thought is not so pleasant. Do my brothers feel the same way?

  38

  Sofia

  I’m wrapped around Antonio as he comes.

  I stare into his face. I want to hide, but as always, the only place I have left to hide is in plain sight.

  I tried retreating—both when he asked me to get nude and when he started fucking me. But the current of discontent in me runs too deep.

  I’ve been having too much fun here. I’ve done very little work. I don’t know if I trust the brothers so much that I believe I won’t find anything dirty on them—or if I just don’t want to find something.

  Tears almost come to my eyes now. I know I don’t want to believe it. Even if I’m scared to look, I need to have the courage to find out the truth.

  Antonio slides out of me gently and falls against the lounge, throwing my legs onto his lap. He leans his head back, his eyes closed.

  His quiet manner and thoughtful gaze would unnerve most people. They would see it as an arrogant defense, but I know better. He has a sweet soul.

  All the brothers do.

  My pussy’s aching deep inside, missing that hard fury that was just there. I’m not done—no way. The misery in me as I examine the choices I must make very soon only fuels my lust.

  I slip forward, folding down between Antonio’s knees. He looks down at me, strokes my cheek, and looks like he’s about to speak.

  If he penetrates me with that soft gaze, I’ll break. I know it.

  I do the only thing I can and lean down. I push his hands away and get my lips around his cock. I suck the head into my mouth and roll it across my tongue.

  Immediately, he starts to get hard again. I feel his hands softly on my hair.

  I take my time, licking down the shaft and exploring every edge with my tongue before sucking him down deep into my throat again. I bring up a hand and rub his balls, gently pressing them between my fingers, cupping him and grazing my fingertips along them to feel them clench back up to his body covered in gooseflesh.

  The shivers run down his legs, and I feel it through my hand on his knee. Slowly, I caress his cock with my lips and tongue. He’s getting even harder than the last time.

  He pulls me up by the shoulders, and I slip up into his lap. His cock is pointing straight up, and I’m so wet he slides straight in. He puts his hands on my lower back as I grab his shoulders.

  We begin to rock, looking into each other’s eyes. He leans forward to kiss me.

  His lips are still wet from my pussy. We slide together in such small intimate movements, our bodies pressed together. Our lips slide over our tongues, and I can hear myself making small, short cries of need.

  I can’t do this. I’m going to cry. I’m going to break.

  I push him away hard with my hands on his shoulders, leaning him against the couch. I can’t look into his shocked blue eyes, so I get up quickly. I turn around and lean back, one hand down to guide his cock into my pussy.

  I grip his knees, looking out into his art studio as he grabs my hips and thrusts. He grabs one shoulder and leans forward.

  It still feels too intimate—our hearts and breaths coming together with the rise and fall of our chests. I stay reversed on his lap for a few minutes, enjoying the change in angle and the purchase his knees give me.

  As he starts to pull me back toward him while kissing my neck and playing with my hair, I push myself forward onto that hardwood floor on my hands and knees. I poke my ass high in the air, my pussy juices dripping down my legs.

  I hear Antonio gasp as he comes forward on the floor, reaching his tongue into me as he gets down. Then he grabs my hips and guides his cock in.

  I point my ass up as high as I can and swing from my knees in response to his hard thrusts. The force is so great I go down on my elbows. Harder and harder he thrusts, as he begins to moan.

  I fall on my chest, hands scrabbling at the floor as he rams me harder and faster. He holds my hips steady so I can’t slip away as he forces his cock in as deep as it can go, again and again.

  As I’m grasping at the floor and trying to get a grip so I can thrust back, I realize I’m whispering his name. All my attempts to remove the intimacy have been futile. The heat within me is not just in my pussy—it’s in my heart and in my mind.

  I love this. I love him.

  We slip down as his weight and passion keep slamming me until we lie flat on the floor. Antonio reaches out and covers my hands as he comes, gasping, laying against me.

  His hot and throbbing cock twitches deep inside me. He kisses my neck and strokes my hair.

  They must be getting sick of me by now—all of them. One woman is only hot and irresistible for so long. They’re going to want to hunt for fresh pussy soon.

  I can’t give them the emotion and intimacy they crave. I have too many secrets, too many years of working as a cold, emotionless killer.

  Any moment now, they’ll close the door on me: So long, thanks for the sex, but we found something better now.

  They deserve better. Who could love a messed-up killer like me?

  Not a gentle artist, a fiery daredevil, or a fun-loving party boy. They need a real woman—a warm one. It’s only a matter of time before I have to kiss each of these gorgeous boys goodbye.

  I’m not sure, but I think a lone tear rolls down my cheek.

  39

  Sofia

  The night is dark and quiet, and I can’t sleep.

  The air is cool, but my skin is hot. I toss and turn, feeling like fire is crawling under my skin. My temples are wet, and my mind is well and truly alight.

  How long can I stay here? It can’t be long now. They’ll either kick me out because I’m a cold, emotionless statue that tells them nothing…or I tell them the truth, and they kick me out for being a spy and a liar.

  That’s the best case scenario. If they find out what I’m really up to, I could be killed.

  I don’t want to think any one of these beautiful boys could hurt me, but it’s a fact of my life. I’ve been deceiving them. And I know they’re not squeaky clean.

  Anything could happen.

  They show no signs of losing faith in me, but I just know it’s coming to a point soon. Life isn’t a fairytale, and I know that even the best of things comes to an end. It seems the more I love something, the shorter time I have to enjoy it.

  I sigh as I roll out of bed. I might as well find something warm to drink. A poor attempt to soothe myself. Maybe a slug of brandy will settle my nerves.

  I quietly slip through the shadows of the wide hallways, trying not to make any sound. I don’t want to dis
turb the brothers. I don’t even want to see them, not really.

  It’s a feeble attempt to put off the inevitable.

  As I turn towards the kitchen, I see a soft light further down the hall, and a soft whisper of voices drift toward me. Feeling like doom is creeping up inside me as I stalk up the hallway, I pause near the open door.

  All three are in there, speaking softly. I strain to hear.

  “Definitely time to do something—” Marco said. He sounded firm and determined.

  I can’t move or they’ll see me.

  I’m as close to the door as I can get. I strain to hear more.

  “—time to show our true colors.”

  Antonio! What are they talking about?

  “—been going on long enough. Can’t take the lies anymore.”

  Franco.

  “Soon. I can’t take another day of this.”

  Marco again.

  I crumple against the wall, putting my face in my hands and trying not to sob.

  It’s me. They must be talking about me. Did they find out I’m a spy?

  Are they going to murder me and dump my body somewhere?

  This possibility hurts me far less than the thought of their eyes as they accuse me of lying to them. The hurt in their faces as they remember the intimacy we’ve shared in the face of my betrayal. The idea of hurting them is cutting into my chest.

  I would rather have them just kill me, I think, than accuse me. I don’t want to explain myself. I truly don’t understand my own actions.

  And I can’t answer for them. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.

  I run down the hall softly and quietly, trying to hold myself together. As I get back to my room, I close my door softly and crumple down to the floor, letting my tears flow.

  I don’t sob, or gasp, or do anything that might alert the brothers.

  I don’t know what to do. Sit here and wait for judgment?

  Flee in the middle of the night?

  I can’t leave. I can’t just slip out of this place, like a shadow that never was.

  If I must play this out, I at least owe the brothers my honesty. Such as it is.

  We’ve shared too much for me to just walk away.

  Painfully, I admit to myself that even this is selfish.

  I just want to see them again.

  To look into the beautiful eyes of Marco, Franco, and Antonio.

  To see them light up as they look at me.

  To try and prove to them that maybe, just maybe, I’m a woman worth having.

  I slip back into bed and wrap the sheet around myself. Tears still slip unevenly from my eyes as echoes of misery hang from my heart. I haven’t checked my phone for some time, as I’m avoiding the big boss.

  I haven’t done my job. I have next to nothing on the brothers and their operations, and I can’t give up what I have learned so far. I know there’s no explaining to him that the business isn’t what it seems.

  The senator’s world is black and white.

  I reach for the phone anyway, not planning to reply to him but to see if there’ve been any updates. Perhaps the government and tax checks have come back clean on the brothers.

  This would legally prove they’re not criminals.

  I know this is a reach. Still, it’s possible that the old dog is calling off the hunt.

  I can hope, at least.

  There’s one email flashing quietly and is marked urgent. It’s from Sammy, an old friend of mine who had disappeared on a mission some time ago. I haven’t heard from her in ages.

  It’s such a shock to see the message. She’s used our private code in the subject field, a collection of symbols we invented to ensure secrecy between our channels.

  No one can crack it, not even a tech expert. It’s definitely from her.

  I flick in to the message, and it isn’t long.

  Beware of The Old Dog. He knows new tricks. He wants to be his own master.

  I stare at the phone in stupefied disbelief. I’ve just referred to the senator in my own thoughts as ‘The Old Dog.’

  Strange—that’s what Sammy and I used to call him.

  The old hunting dog.

  It can’t be about him. He’s the cleanest guy I know.

  He even goes to church regularly and helps out at charities.

  He detests bad guys. One of the reasons I work for him is his passion for stamping out injustice. This doesn’t make sense.

  Where did Sammy go? What happened to her? Why message me now?

  The old dog knows new tricks.

  Can this really mean what I think it means?

  40

  Marco

  I’m lingering over a fine breakfast when Sofia walks in. She looks terrible—like she’s been wrestling demons all night. Instantly I’m worried.

  I’ve never seen her looking less than composed.

  “Good morning,” I speak brightly, with a smile.

  It seems to go right over her head. She takes a stool at the bar, just like our first morning in this very kitchen. On that day, she was grinning at me, her eyes sparkling.

  Just reeking of sex—literally and figuratively.

  She’s still beautiful and sensual, and as I look her over, I can feel my cock getting hard immediately. I don’t indulge myself in the desire though; she looks so fucking sad.

  “Good morning.”

  Her voice is quiet and raspy. Maybe she’s sick.

  “Do you want coffee? Or tea, maybe with lemon?”

  She looks up at me, eyes watery as she rubs at them.

  Big dark circles cloud those lovely eyes. There’s a strain around the edges of her mouth. I stop fucking about with coffee and cups and come to the counter across from her.

  “Sofia,” I gently take her hand. It’s very cool, but steady. So are her tired eyes as she looks deeply at me. “Are you alright?”

  “Huh? I mean, yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You look like you didn’t sleep well. Can I get you anything? Why don’t you go back to bed, and I’ll bring you something.”

  I try my best cheeky grin and point a thumb at myself.

  “Just call me Nurse Marco,” I say.

  She smiles, and the look in her eye softens just a little.

  There she is. The goddess.

  “I’m okay, really. I don’t want to go back to bed. I think I’m having trouble with the mattress. I’ve got a nasty headache.”

  “We’ll buy a new one today. I could rub your neck for you? Or you could take a bath to relax?”

  She shakes her head softly.

  “No, none of that, thanks. I’ll just have a coffee.”

  I pour her one quickly and bring her a couple of aspirin. She wraps her hands around the cup and swallows the pills.

  “I kind of have an ulterior motive, wanting you to feel better.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  She grins at me, raising an eyebrow. I have to laugh.

  “Nothing sexually sinister, I assure you. I’m organizing a big charity event—a gala dinner for all of society’s elite. It’s going to be the place to see and be seen. Everyone is going to want a ticket, just for the clout of being involved.

  “I’ve been working hard on raising the prestige of the event. Not only are the tickets ridiculously expensive, there will be donation opportunities available at the event. I’m still researching those. The point is, I’ve slowly been gathering information on this so that I can help out all the local charities.”

  I stop for a sip of coffee, watching Sofia’s reaction.

  It’s strange, but she doesn’t seem as excited about this as I’d hoped.

  She seems, if anything, a bit conflicted. Upset, somehow.

  “Well, all of the money raised is going to go to the under-privileged. We have plans to set up programs for the homeless and the troubled youth. It’s on in two weeks.”

  She sets her coffee down, staring at it like a fortune-teller looking for answers.

  “Sounds like fun.”<
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  She doesn’t look up, and I feel that darkness settling around her again.

  I want to ask her what’s wrong, but she doesn’t talk about herself.

  I don’t want to pry. It’s not my business to go chasing after her trauma. If she wanted me to know, she’d tell me. I reach out and squeeze her hand.

  “Sofia. I want you to run it. The whole thing. I’m making you promotions manager of our new branch. This is something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. I can’t run the business and organize this at the same time.”

  I squeeze her hand again, and she looks up at me, her dark eyes shining and completely locked onto me. Her soul doesn’t show from these doorways.

  God, how I wish I could know the thoughts running behind those eyes right now.

  Her lips are slightly parted, her gaze serious, as if she’s trying to imprint my features on her memory. It’s scary. It feels like a goodbye.

  Like she’s miles away from me. What she says next shocks me to the core.

  “You wouldn’t hurt me, would you Marco?”

  I’m frozen for a moment.

  It’s like being under water. Hard to breathe; impossible to move.

  “Sofia! Why would you ask me something like that?!”

  I reach up with my other hand to touch her face. “I could never hurt you. I…I—”

  I can’t finish that sentence. Not with so much between us not known.

  My brothers are in this as well.

  Fuck! Today started out so good.

  “Honey, look. I don’t know what kind of bad dreams you had last night. But I couldn’t ever hurt you…in any way. I want you to know that. I want you to go and get dressed, because I’m taking you in to the city to meet the managers of the separate charities. I have a venue and a plan in mind, but I want you to mastermind the whole thing. This is your job now. This is your home.”

  She’s still looking at me, and her eyes are too dark. She smiles softly.