Winners

by Allyson Young

  “Legs further apart. Give me room to work.”

  She widened her stance and flattened her back. Reece managed not to touch her pussy, the outer lips visibly moist and swollen, but he was sorely tempted. If he went there, his plans for the evening would fall apart, such was the draw of that sweet flesh.

  “A little cool, sweetheart.” He popped the lid on the lube and squeezed some onto his fingertips, dipping them between the curves of her buttocks to coat her anus. Aside from a slight intake of breath, Candace didn’t move.

  Setting the plug on the small of her back, her glowing flesh in competition with the shining metal, he worked a finger into her rosebud, adding another as she pushed out for him. “Tight. You’ll need some work before you can take me.”

  The clenching of the hot inner walls around his digits made him smile. Candace liked to hear what he intended to do to her, his sexy talk making her wetter. When his fingers moved without restraint, he carefully withdrew and quickly coated the plug with lube, adding another dollop at her shrinking anus. Setting the tip against it, he pushed the plug in steadily, urging her to breathe, watching for any signs of real discomfort. She took it all without complaint, and when he had the toy fully seated, he admired the jewel.

  “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

  “I’m pretty damn full, Reece.”

  “You hurting?” His hand was already reaching for the plug.

  “No. I just need…” Her voice was muffled against the bedding, but he heard the need, and moved to fill it.

  Slipping a hand beneath her shoulder, his knee braced against her opposite hip, he eased her over onto her back and she moved fluidly, eyes locking with his. Reece knew precisely what she required and took his place between her legs, setting a hand beneath either knee to lift and fold them up, grabbing hold of those damn stilettos. The heels made perfect handles, and the flood of desire that washed across Candace’s face told him she’d come to appreciate that fact. She was his to use at his discretion, just as she liked it. He was humbled by her trust.

  His cock glided along the seam of her pussy, its path facilitated by copious amounts of natural lubricant, and he savored the wet heat. But he knew he wouldn’t last, so let go of one heel to grab his anxious flesh and notch the cockhead against her opening. The slight stricture gave way against his push, and then came the battle. Reece took hold of the shoe again and arched his hips, working his way in tiny increments deeper into her channel.

  “Goddamn. You’re even tighter, sweetheart.” He panted, holding back from delivering his seed that very moment, Candace splayed and vulnerable beneath him. Lord, he loved her.

  She moaned and lifted into him, moving her hips despite his weight and her position, and, as always, he fell into the depths of her eyes, fixed on him with such telling emotion. His woman sometimes struggled to voice her feelings for him, taught early by her distant father, but she showed them with all of her heart.

  Ever so slowly he pressed deeper, warring for space against the unforgiving plug, knowing Candace would be experiencing such stretching and pressure that she’d have the mother of all orgasms if he could hold on. Gritting his teeth, he said it, put his niggling worry out there. “This is the closest you’ll get to being double-fucked, sweetheart. No other man touches what is mine.”

  A spurt of hot fluid drenched him and he slid in balls deep, coming up against her cervix, but it was the lifting of the haze in Candace’s blue orbs that he truly experienced. She pierced him with that one look, a sweet, burning, welcome arrow to his heart. “Yours, Reece. Only yours.”

  Reece reined in his rogue cock enough to make good on his promise, driving Candace up and over the cliff of release, her keening cry a signal for his own, strangling orgasm. Such a delicious agony. When her clenching sheath milked the last of his ejaculate, he slumped to the side, pulling her with him to bask in the closeness of body—and soul.

  ****

  Candy lay nestled against Reece’s solid form, his slowing heartbeat matching her own descent from the heights of sexual decadence. If she had the energy she might have something else to say, but instead contented herself with a press of her lips against his moist, brawny shoulder. Had her Sheriff harbored an insecurity? Did he think she needed more than him? Well, she hoped her total surrender tonight had quashed such nonsense, because she was his, as utterly as he belonged to her. A smile quirked her lips as she recalled how the brothers had hustled Sinclair out the door earlier. Their first social time together as a group hadn’t lasted very long, but felt comfortable, if fraught with certain sexual tension. She hoped that tension never dissipated, for any of them, that they’d all be old and grey and still full of passion for their mates.

  Stretching, she fit herself closer to her man, marking the way their bodies fit together, his toned muscles against her softness, little drifts and tendrils of sensation adding to her languidness. She’d tell him in the morning that she would meet with her daddy, to address any lingering issues Reece was concerned about—for her. Reece took in a deeper breath, falling further into sleep, and she suddenly ached with a sense of fierce protectiveness. All those years in the field, sleeping lightly, with one eye open for insurgents, had been a hard habit to break, he’d told her. But he slept the sleep of the just when they shared a bed, and she’d give him that for the rest of her life, having won out against considerable odds.

  Chapter Four

  Gripping the wheel to control his burgeoning need, Craig blessed the fact their ranch wasn’t too far from Reece’s home. Sinclair sat demurely between him and his brother, and they’d have her between them as soon as they got through the front door of their house. The state he was in, he wasn’t sure they’d make it up to the master suite. Sure, their ménage was new, but spending any amount of time away from their girl was painful, and not just sexually. He and Ashton worked hard—the cattle and a specialized breed of horses were their livelihood—but he really had to focus on his tasks, instead of wondering how Sinclair was doing, working with local vets, kinda like an apprenticeship. Working around all those damn big animals she seemed to regard as kittens and puppies. Okay, so that wasn’t accurate. Sinclair respected the power and unpredictability of farm animals, and he wouldn’t disrespect her intelligence. They had to stop challenging her about her choices. It was just that she was so little…

  Wheeling into their long drive, he marshaled his thoughts and tucked them away. He’d have a bruise on his shin tomorrow after his ill advised comment at the dinner table. Sinclair resisted all forms of stereotyping, and he and Ash loved her individuality, unless it stepped out of the invisible cocoon they’d automatically spun around her, for her safety and protection, sometimes forgetting she could take care of herself. Not that she needed to … and he was doing it again. Wanting to keep her at home, wrapped in cotton wool, waiting for them to come through the door and be with her. It was selfish and caveman style, and she’d pinch him—or worse—if he voiced those thoughts. She’d been a sweet and compliant child, and a reasonable teenager, but the time away at school had polished her a little. Still sweet and gentle, there was a core of steel beneath that exterior that came to the forefront when she required it. They were proud of her for that, too.

  His fingers automatically switched off the ignition after shoving the stick into park, and he fumbled with the door handle. Ash was already climbing out, tugging Sinclair behind him, and Craig hustled, reluctant to be late to the party. His brother now had their woman over his shoulder, tapping her rounded butt to the sounds of her laughter and mock protests. Craig faltered in his gait, the utter joy he experienced actually calming his libido. She was fucking perfect.

  Ruffling the ears of the two yard dogs as they frolicked around the humans, drawn by the frivolity, he then reached to turn the doorknob, allowing Ash and Sinclair access. He closed and locked the door behind him and raced up the stairs, his eyes fixed on Sinclair. All that ebony hair trailed downward in shimmering waves, and her shirt had ridden up to reveal a
tantalizing slice of skin. His brother carried her into the master suite where he dropped her on the bed. She bounced and made a little shriek, giving Ash a mock glare before turning her attention to Craig. He did his best “you are in deep shit” stare and was rewarded with a wary, assessing look. She skittered backward, bending her knees and using her heels and hands to move her luscious body along, and he abandoned all pretence of cool.

  Diving past Ashton, who was smirking, Craig caged Sinclair against the mattress, using his superior size and strength to imprison her. She engaged him in a spirited fashion, wriggling and then tickling his ribs, only to push her hands through his hair and pull him closer when he fused his mouth to hers. The faint, robust flavor of red wine was tangy on her breath, and then he lost himself in the taste of pure Sin.

  Her hands slipped to his shoulders and over his back to grasp at the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward. The feel of her strong little hands, work roughened and tantalizing on his skin, pushed a groan past his throat, and he rolled with her, her slight weight a welcome burden on his chest. Still sipping her lips, he felt the bed dip under Ashton’s weight as his brother made short work of stripping Sinclair’s boots, two spaced thumps signifying them hitting the floor. Her hips lifted, leaving his cock mourning the press of her mound, and he knew his brother had relieved her of her jeans, and probably her panties. For he could feel such sweet, localized heat when she again rested against him.

  At last he released her, and she elevated her head to meet his eyes, hazy desire reflected back, her mouth swollen from his tender assault. Ash eased her upward, tanned hands contrasting with the pale flesh of her forearms as his brother pulled her to straddle Craig, her knees tucked against his hips, wet, glistening pussy spread for his perusal. She had such a pretty sex, downy hair cropped close, the inner folds pink shading to crimson, and he’d become addicted to her taste.

  She set her hands on his abdomen and arched her back, knowing he was looking, aware of her feminine draw as she learned her sexuality at his and Ashton’s tutorials. Because Sinclair was initially shy, painfully so, he and his brother had made it their mission to cure her of that misguided attribute. He deliberately reached to work open the buttons on her shirt, slipping the small disks free with rigid self control, testing all three of them as Ashton gave him a look and Sinclair squirmed.

  “Patience, darlin’,” he warned, pleased when she stilled. He spread the panels wide, and Ash obligingly helped to remove the garment, his hands exhibiting a slight shake. Their need for Sinclair tended to rush things, but they’d talked about this night, and Craig was determined to take it slow.

  Her breasts were restrained behind a confection of lace, the upper slopes a smooth, tempting sight, and he drew down first one strap, then the other, to reveal two handfuls of mouth-watering flesh topped by those red nipples he swore tasted of raspberries. To refresh his memory, he tried one, nibbling on the tip as the tender bud elongated against his tongue. Sinclair shrieked, and Ash was there, having shed his clothing.

  “Quit hogging her.” Ash was smiling but he clearly was suffering from Sinclair withdrawal, and Craig relented, shifting her to the side into his brother’s welcoming arms.

  Sliding from the bed, he stripped quickly, watching Ash tenderly kiss the nipple Craig had tormented, and then giving the other bud the same attention. Ash was usually the more dominant with the women he and Craig got between them, but with Sinclair they’d evolved into equals. Craig sometimes wanted to puff out his chest like one of those darn bantam roosters that strutted the yard.

  Selecting the supplies he needed from the nightstand, Craig stepped close to the couple. Sinclair had her eyes closed, head thrown back as Ash feasted and suckled. She worked her hands in Ash’s hair, and Craig’s scalp tingled in memory. He waited until his brother released one nipple, and slipped the modified clamp on.

  “Owww!” Sinclair blinked wide and protested.

  “Breathe through it, sweetheart.” Ash blew on the distended bead, and she subsided. He leaned back, and Craig attached the other clamp, mindful of Sinclair’s narrowing look.

  “You like them once you get used to them,” he said, while Ash slid down her body. She opened her mouth again, perhaps to naysay him, but his brother must have reached his target, for her pupils dilated and she let out a breathy moan, and fell back against the pillow.

  Giving Ash a few moments to heat their girl up again, Craig soothed his raging cock with long strokes, twisting his grip at the head, taking in the erotic picture they made. His brother and best friend, and the love of his life … Ash’s dark head rested at the junction of Sinclair’s splayed thighs, her hands clutching the bedding in frantic movement as her head rolled from side to side. With both hands Craig freed the clamps, soothing the sting away, rolling each nipple as she processed the sensation all the way to her pussy. They needed to drive her higher than ever, in anticipation of what they had in store, but they wouldn’t let her come—yet.

  Sinclair cried out and tried to grind her apex into Ashton’s mouth. “Don’t stop. Don’t.”

  “Ash.” No need to say anything else. His brother’s head rose up, despite Sinclair’s immediate grab to hold him in place, his lower face wet with her juices, eyes hot with lust. Ash smiled at her, the tender expression underscoring his carnal desire and she glared back. Did she know what they planned? What they’d been preparing her for with anal play and teasing?

  “Not fair. So not fair. You can’t leave me like this.”

  Ashton flopped to his back beside her, cock straining toward his belly, and involuntarily, Craig looked down at his own pulsing, solid flesh. Sinclair called them her matched set, mischief lighting up her lovely face—and tonight she’d find out exactly what a matched set could do for her.

  “Fuck Ash, darlin’. Work that sweet little pussy on his cock.” God, the way her eyes flared when he used dirty talk with her.

  Sinclair wet her lips, and her glare faded, a flush of excitement replacing it as she first stared at Craig’s cock, which preened before her regard. Then she moved to straddle his brother. A curtain of blue-black hair swung to obscure her face and beautifully reddened nipples. Ash gently drew back the long strands and set them behind her shoulders to fall down the length of her back, a visual Craig stored for later, then cupped her breasts reverently. His gentle hold was apparent as his thumbs drifted over her, and Sinclair’s eyes drifted shut for an instant before she turned her attention to taking Ash.

  Taking a position to watch her place her sex over his brother’s cock, Craig held his breath as Sinclair lowered herself slowly to accommodate Ash’s size and length, Ash supporting her with a hand on either hip. She was so little … he gave himself a mental head slap. They wouldn’t hurt her, would bring her the best, intense pleasure, and hadn’t he already accepted she was made for them? Seeing her take all of Ash reminded him to breathe when a satisfied groan emanated from his brother’s lips, followed by a moan from Sinclair. Craig’s cock twitched in reminder that it, too, wanted in, and he grasped the base to squeeze hard and bring himself back under control. The urge to jerk off was strong, but he and Ash had other plans. He drew on the lubricated condom.

  With a hand on the middle of her back, he coaxed Sinclair to lie flat against Ashton. Ash cuddled her close and kept her from moving, their moves orchestrated by numerous such experiences, except this one was momentously different. They loved Sinclair, and she loved them. This was play and commitment.

  “We’re both taking you tonight, Sin.” Punctuating his comment with a kiss on her shoulder, he palmed a round buttock, squeezing to ensure she knew his destination. Aside from a tiny shiver, she didn’t respond, and Craig hurried to continue. Popping the lube open, he applied it generously against her star opening and on his fingertips, the bottle dropping to roll across the floor. Not his most graceful preparation, but he blamed it on his shaky hands, shades of Ashton.

  The firm tissue of her back entrance gave before the press of one finger, as she accepte
d the invasion the way they’d taught her, although her buttocks clenched.

  “Relax, darlin’,” he urged, and waited for her to adjust before adding another digit, parting the two fingers slightly, the hot, dark walls within grudgingly accommodating the additional width.

  Always a quiet lover, Sinclair muttered into Ash, who crooned against her temple. “S’okay, sweetheart. Let Craig get you ready.”

  Craig flashed back to the way he’d stretched her virginal channel in preparation for Ashton’s foray into paradise, the same night she’d eased his need with her sweet mouth, and eased yet another finger inside to join the others.

  “Too much.” He stopped instantly, rubbing her hip with his free hand until she again relaxed, her faith in him not to hurt her making his belly clench. There was no mitigating some level of discomfort when he would come to put his cock inside her tiny back hole, although the end result would be worth it. He might not be able to fully understand the pleasure of double penetration from a female perspective, but he intended for it to take Sinclair past every delight she knew thus far. His and Ash’s release had become secondary.

  “Touch your clit, Sin. Work your hand in there where you and Ash are joined, and play. Now.”

  A little shuffling and an adjustment allowed her to do as he commanded, and he took advantage of the distraction to stretch her further. “Don’t you come.”

  “Every time you order her around, she gets wetter, Craig.” Ash spoke through set lips, and Craig knew his brother was nearing the end of his patience—or control.

  “Bossy old man.” A thread of humor and petulance ran through Sinclair’s muffled comment.

  “You come before we say and I’ll redden this nice ass and start all over again.” He smacked her once to prove his point.