by RG Alexander
Instead of calming her desires, the thought actually made her more impatient to get to Henry and Peter. Made her think about sex with them in the limo.
She was twisted.
“In a hurry yourself, I see. Mr. Vincent told me how much you loved your job.” Roy was grinning when he pulled out her other bags and set them down beside her. “This is where we part, Ms. Ruskin. Mr. Vincent wants to bring your things in himself so he can show you around. I get the feeling I’m not invited.”
He tilted his driver’s cap and got back into the Hummer, and she watched him drive away before she turned to face Peter’s house.
She stepped back instinctively and her throat started to close. This wasn’t a big house. Not even a mansion. This was the set of a sweepingly epic historical…or a horror movie. The sound of organ music or thunder rolling in at any minute wouldn’t surprise her.
It was beautiful craftsmanship. Three stories and possibly two city blocks worth of beautiful. There were even—she squinted her eyes as she looked up at the awnings—yep. Gargoyles. She knew the Faradays had been rich since the states were colonies, but she hadn’t been able to wrap her head around what that meant until this moment. The Hummer was child’s play. This estate was Jane Austen’s Pemberley, complete with a brooding hunk in residence.
This was where Peter grew up?
She looked back down the long road they called a driveway again, thinking she could still flag Roy down. Her feet weren’t getting cold…they were frozen.
“Holly.” Henry jogged down the steps as she turned, a wicked smile on his face. “We were wondering when you were going to show up.”
Too late to run. Holly pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, choosing to ogle his rippling biceps instead of looking back at the haunted mansion. “No ninjas required. Hey, are you sure we don’t want to go back to my place? I have electricity and running water and I’m pretty sure it’s ghost-and gargoyle-free.”
He laughed, carrying her bags back up the stairs. “It’s an old monster, I know. Trust me, it’s better on the inside. He’s had so much work done in there you’ll think you’re at a four-star resort. There’s an indoor swimming pool and sauna, a gourmet kitchen, a living room you could go roller-skating in, and at least eight bedrooms…that I’ve seen. Hell, he even turned the basement into a fully equipped recording studio a few years back. I have a feeling I’ll be using it before our research project is over.” He winked at her as they reached the door. “That dress is already doing things to inspire me.”
She reached out and put her hand on his strong forearm, the feel of his hot skin making her fingers tingle. “Before we go inside, I wanted you to know how great it’s been talking to you again. It meant a lot to me.”
Henry looked down at her arm and shook his head. “Working on your goodbye already, Betty? How about you open the door for me and give us all a chance to say a proper hello?”
She opened the door and followed him inside. “I was only trying to—”
“Holly. Finally.” She saw a flash of dark blue eyes and a smile before Peter had her pressed up against the wall beside the door, kissing her until her toes started to curl. She could feel his impatience, his arousal, and it fueled hers. This was what she’d been dying for since last night.
Her arms wrapped around his neck and she moaned into his mouth when his hand slipped beneath her skirt and caressed her inner thighs as she’d been doing only moments before. This was so much better. His touch. Yes. She lifted her leg and wrapped her calf around his, opening herself up for him, inviting him to take more.
Peter lifted his mouth with a growl. “You’re soaking wet, Holly. Did you come before you got here?”
“No. I wanted to but…no.”
“Are you willing to agree to my conditions?”
Holly bit her lip when his knuckles pressed teasingly against her clit. “Damn, I like the way you say hello. And I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”
“Say it, Holly.”
“Yes,” she gasped. “I agree. Three months and you set the pace. I’m your willing research slave.”
She felt the pull and heard the rip as he tore her underwear and let it drop at it her feet. “That’s good. Exactly what I needed to hear. Now I can welcome you properly.”
“Thank God.”
Chapter Five
Peter Faraday was a danger to her equilibrium.
He kissed her again, tangling his tongue with hers in a dance that made her wild. His hand was cupping and massaging her sex, his fingers slipping through her arousal as she pushed herself against him greedily. This was crazy. What she was feeling, it was too much. Last night he’d kissed her and it was like something had turned on inside her that she couldn’t turn off. Didn’t want to turn off.
All she could think about was Peter inside her. Henry and Peter taking her. She wanted him. His fingers. His tongue. His cock. She slid her hand down his chest toward his pants but he caught her wrist in a firm grip.
“No, Holly. We’re going to make you come for us first.” His skin was flushed with desire, his eyes narrow as he pulled back to study her. “Henry? I got my kiss last night, now it’s your turn. Consider it payment for this morning’s revelations. Why don’t you give her the welcome she deserves?”
Peter moved to her side and she looked away from him in time to see Henry dropping to his knees in front of her, the sunlight shining in from the open door and glinting in his sable hair.
Oh God, the door was still open and she didn’t care. She knew what Henry was going to do, what she needed him to do, and she didn’t want to stop it.
“Did I mention I love this dress?” Henry murmured, lifting up the skirt until he could see her bare skin. “Jesus, Holly, you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Sweet black curls and pink skin begging for my tongue. Will you hold this for me so I can have a taste?”
She held the skirt and whimpered in surprise when Henry lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and leaned in. Peter wrapped his arm around her, holding her steady against the wall as Henry groaned and opened his mouth on her sex, his tongue curling around her clit, his beard scratching her sensitive lips in a way that made her shudder.
“Fuck.”
“That’s what you get when you dress like dessert and offer yourself to two starving men.” Peter’s voice was deeper. Turned on. “You make us want what’s under the frosting even more.”
“Food again,” she gasped. “You two and your—oh God, Henry.”
“Can you blame us, Holly? You are delicious.” Peter reached behind her neck and untied her halter-top, dragging the fabric down to the snug high waist. “You’re… Fuck, Holly it’s been too long since I’ve seen you like this outside of my dreams. Would you like to know how often I’ve dreamt about these breasts? What I’ve done to them in my mind?”
Peter dropped his head and covered her nipple with his mouth, sucking hard.
“God,” she moaned. “Yes, oh yes.”
She dug into Henry’s back with her heel and pulled him closer, rocking her hips against his face and leaning her head back against the wall for balance. Henry made a sound of approval, reaching up to cup her ass and tilt her toward him so he could thrust deeper into her than before. God, he was setting her on fire.
“Yes.”
Peter lifted his head, breathing in rough pants as he cupped her breast and lifted it, flicking and caressing her nipple with his thumb. “Do you like it, Holly? How hungry we are for you?”
“You know I do,” she moaned. “You know I love it.”
When he scraped his teeth along her neck, she shivered. “I remember how much you loved everything. You were wild with us. I remember how good that sweet little mouth was at sucking my cock as Henry fucked you. How tightly you squeezed me when I was deep inside that ass. The sounds you made when you came for us.”
His words were almost like sex, each memory a deep thrust inside her, making her groan as Henry’s talented tongue brought her closer to the
edge. “I’m close. Fuck, it feels...”
“Tell me what he’s doing now, Holly. Tell me how it feels.”
She forced her eyes open to look into his. The expression on his face took away what was left of her breath. “Oh God, Peter, I can’t…I…”
“Disobeying me already? Tell me.”
“He’s fucking me with his tongue. It’s so good. I need to come, I’ve been ready since last night, but I don’t want it to be over. I don’t want him to stop.”
Henry made a pained sound and pressed harder against her, moving his tongue faster inside her. It felt wicked. “Oh God. Oh my God.”
Peter pinched her nipple and tugged. “Come for him, Holly. I promise it won’t be the last time. This is the first time. Come for us now.”
She couldn’t help herself. She shouted, rocking against Henry’s mouth as her climax crashed over her. It was the sexiest thing she’d experienced in years, her men on her as soon as she walked through the door, unwilling to wait before taking her. Her only complaint was it was over too quickly. She shook against them, already wanting more despite her release. Wanting both of them.
Peter lifted her in his arms again and she forced herself to focus as he handed her to Henry. “I’ll the take her bags upstairs. Go to the living room and make sure she’s comfortable. Try and wait for me.”
He was leaving? She frowned fuzzily as he climbed the stairs and disappeared. She was still coming down from her climax and he was gone. Didn’t he want to continue what he’d started? “What’s going on?”
Henry kissed her head and carried her down the marbled hall. There were paintings on the foyer ceiling. Actual paintings. Maybe Peter’s mother had been an Austen fan, because this was ridiculous.
“Where is he taking my bags?”
“To his room,” Henry answered as they entered the high-ceilinged living room that did indeed look big enough to skate in. “I suppose I should say our room, because we’ll all be in there for the next few months.”
“We will?” Sleeping together. All of them. Not just wild and wicked sex but morning hair and blanket stealing and the possibility of snoring. “But there are so many rooms.”
Henry set her down on the couch, a mysterious expression on his usually open features. “From what little I’ve gathered, he has an immersive experience planned. Peter rarely does anything halfway. I don’t imagine any of us will be getting a lot of privacy, but believe me when I say we won’t be too crowded. He had that bed custom made, and you could sleep six comfortably on that baby.” He knelt down in front of her, cupping her still-bare breasts in his hands. “Not that I’d mind cuddling with these as I fell asleep. They feel as good as they look.”
Oh hell. Holly covered his hands with her own, still reeling from her climax. The calluses on his fingers from a lifetime of playing his guitar were making her squirm. “Henry you were…that was incredible.”
He licked his lips. “Only incredible? I obviously need to work on my technique. I blame you for distracting me. You were so sweet on my tongue. So wet. I don’t know how Peter stopped last night without letting you come, because there was no way I could have. You might be my new habit, Holly. I already want to do it again. I’m thinking about lying on the floor right here, you straddling my face and taking a little joy ride.”
“Henry,” she whispered, blushing. “Stop.”
“You don’t want me to,” he rasped. “You’ve always loved the dirty talk and I was tongue-deep in that pussy when Peter was talking. You loved it as much as I did, and you’re as ready as I am for more. You told him you didn’t come, but I know you wanted to. Did you touch yourself, Holly? Think about all the things we were going to do and touch yourself before you came here?”
She nodded, pushing his hands down to her stomach, beneath her crumpled up dress. Henry’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”
“Showing you.” Holly leaned back on the couch and slipped one hand under his. She looked into his eyes and started to touch herself, mimicking Peter’s earlier caress. Her knuckles were brushing against his palm, and when he tensed as if he might pull away, her other hand covered his and held it against her. “This is what I did in your Hummer, Henry. How I touched myself, wishing it were you.”
He flinched, pulling her hand away and replacing it with his own. She moaned as Henry filled her with one finger, then two, as if he couldn’t help himself.
“Holly’s grown up into a bad, bad girl,” he murmured. “We’re supposed to wait for Peter, you know.”
She wrapped her wet fingers around his wrist and pressed him deeper inside her. “We are, Henry. We’re waiting. We won’t—oh, like that—we don’t have to do more than this.”
Henry leaned down and bit her shoulder, making her whimper with need. “But I want to. Jesus, what I wouldn’t give to bend you over this couch and fuck you right now. You have no idea how hard it’s been for me to hold back. When I saw you six months ago. Last night. It’s all I’ve been able to think about.”
“Yes,” she whispered, too aroused to pretend patience. “Do it, Henry. Right now. I want you to. He’ll understand. He told you to make me comfortable.”
He snarled and pulled away from her touch. “Not without Peter. That’s the deal.”
Peter’s voice startled them both. “It’s good to know you can keep your word, Henry. But I’m here now.” He walked over and tossed a box of condoms on the couch beside them. “She obviously wants you to finish what you started and you’ve definitely shown a lot more restraint over the last year than I would have. It’s only fair. Bend her over my couch and take her the way you want to.”
Henry got to his feet, eyeing his friend warily. “Peter?”
Peter crossed his arms. “I’m the one setting the pace. This isn’t the race it was when we were young and afraid we’d never get another chance. She’s not going anywhere for the next few months, and there are certain elements of a ménage relationship we never had the time to explore. This is one of them. Fuck her while I watch. For our research.” His voice changed subtly. “Holly? Look at me.”
His eyes were so damn blue she felt like she was drowning. She saw something in them that she couldn’t turn away from. “Peter?”
“Stand up and take off your dress.”
God help her, he was impossible to resist, with his shirt partially unbuttoned and his erection once again straining against his pants. She wanted to tell him to take his clothes off, but his command had silenced her. She remembered him being a little aggressive in the bedroom the last time they were together, but there was something she recognized now after her training at the BDSM club. He had it. That quality her instructor taught her to recognize, a personality that would make him the perfect Dom. Holly wanted to please him. To obey him.
And she really wanted Henry to fuck her.
Standing up, she undid the side zipper of her halter dress and let it pool at her feet. She started to step out of her shoes but Peter shook his head. “Leave those on and kneel on the cushion.”
He moved behind the couch, right in front of her as she followed his instructions. Her breasts pressed against the brown leather and she studied the belt at her eye line, tempted to reach for it. “What now, Peter?”
He caressed her cheek with his fingertips and she leaned into his touch like a cat, needing to be stroked. Needing him. “Now Henry is going to take what you’re offering before I’m tempted to show him how it’s done.”
She heard the sound of clothes rustling behind her. “Far be it for me to ignore an order like that,” Henry muttered hotly. “Trap or payback, I don’t give a damn. I want her too much.”
Peter was still touching her skin, distracting her. He traced a line down her neck and to her shoulder, which was covered in cherry blossoms and dogwood flowers. “Were these for your research, Holly?”
She licked her lips, nodding. “I worked in a tattoo parlor for a book. Receptionist.”
Henry gripped her hip with one hand and slipped two fin
gers inside her again from behind, making her gasp. “Oh lord.”
“What do they mean to you?” Peter’s fingers pressed into her shoulder hard enough to get her attention. “The flowers—why did you get them?”
Was he kidding? She held onto the back of the couch and rocked against Henry’s hand, silently begging for more. “Peter…”
Henry groaned, removing his fingers and pressing the head of his cock against her sex. “Tell him, Holly. Give the strange man what he wants while I give you— Ah, Jesus, Holly your pussy’s so hot and tight.”
His cock filled her and she cried out, “Yes, Henry! God.”
“Holly.”
She shook her head. Tattoos. He was asking about tattoos while Henry was stretching her with his big hard cock. “Empathy,” she groaned when Henry started to move. “Impermanence. Henry, yes. Yes—oh, renewal. They look similar, mean almost the same thing but they’re not—oh fuck, I can’t—they’re not the same.”
Henry was moving inside her with long, deep strokes that made her crazy, and Peter’s hands were both cupping her shoulders now, his pants the only thing stopping her from taking his erection in her mouth. She was ready to yank off his zipper with her teeth.
“Did you like it?” Peter’s voice was aroused. Rough. “Henry says it’s like good kink. Some pain and a big adrenaline rush that lasts for hours. Was it like that for you? Did you want more as soon as you were done?”
“I liked it, damn it,” she cried. “Peter, what the fuck are you doing?”
“Distracting myself,” he growled. “So I don’t ask Henry how it feels to be balls-deep inside our fantasy girl after all this time. So I don’t fill your mouth with my cock or take myself in hand while watching how perfectly you’re taking him. How greedy you are for more.”
