Five Weeks In December

by Blue Kincaid

  Raphe joined him on the bed and followed Harry’s lead, hand sweeping slowly up the back of one long leg. December’s breath quickened now that both of them were touching her and she turned onto her back with feline grace, body supple and arching under their hands.

  She took his breath away. His hands covered her breasts and he knelt at her head to lean over her, nuzzling her mouth. Farther down her body, Raphe smoothed his hands over her hips and down her thighs, turning his face into her calf where she rested it against his shoulder.

  Under him, December’s hands sought out Harry’s hard cock through his pants and nimble fingers worked the button and zipper open. He trailed kisses down her neck to her breasts and lingered there as Raphe spread her thighs and turned his attention to her pussy. December moaned under him, stroking Harry’s now freed cock with both hands and stretching to lick the tip.

  He knelt up, his knees on either side of her head now, he and Raphe facing each other over her. “You want to suck my cock, don’t you, beautiful?”

  December’s lips parted breathlessly. “Yes,” she whispered, breath hitching at something Raphe did down between her long legs.

  “Who do you belong to, December?” Oh he wanted to hear those words, her soft, desirous voice whispering his name.

  Her eyes flickered open and she slid her hands up his thighs on either side of her, nails lightly raking on the way back down. “You, Harry. I belong to you.”

  He believed her, oddly. A week ago he couldn’t have and it drove home to him how right he’d been to cancel their arrangement. Whatever happened a few weeks from now, in this moment December belonged to him. All of her. He rewarded her answer with his cock, slipped between her lips. She moaned and sucked him deep immediately and Harry bit off a curse. Fuck, she was good.

  He leaned over her, down toward Raphe, and watched as his friend’s tongue flicked her hard little clit, the smooth folds of her pussy spread wide by his fingers. “Delicious, isn’t she?”

  He felt December shudder, and he loved how turned on she got by being spoken about as if she weren’t truly there…an object for their pleasure. It took a special kind of woman to embrace that feeling, to not only embrace it but revel in it. His December did.

  Raphe lifted his head, grinning. “I might be a hell of a chef, but nothing coming out of my kitchen tastes this fucking good.”

  Harry couldn’t look away from Raphe’s mouth suddenly. His friend’s lips glistened with December’s arousal and Harry knew what her flavor tasted like on his own tongue – Raphe’s tongue tasted like her right then. Raphe seemed to catch his train of thought and a slow, sensual smile curved his December-flavored lips.

  “Want to taste, Harry?”

  And Harry realized that yes, he did. He leaned in a bit more and took Raphe’s mouth in a kiss, tongue sweeping over his lips, savoring the flavor of the woman he’d rapidly become addicted to. It wasn’t even like kissing Raphe…more like feeding off his mouth, getting his December fix.

  December whimpered under them as they pulled back and Harry grinned, licking his lips. He rocked his hips, sinking his cock deeper into her mouth. “Dirty girl, were you feeling neglected for a minute?”

  December pulled her mouth away for a moment. “No, Sir…just wishing I could see you kiss him.”

  Harry grinned. “He tasted like you, I couldn’t help myself.” He shifted off of her and stretched out beside her, fingers brushing her cheek as she moaned and writhed under Raphe’s talented mouth. “You’re so beautiful like this. Is he good?”

  She nodded, breath panting softly. “Yes, Sir…very.” She turned her face into his palm and kissed it, eyes sinking closed with a low moan. “Oh my god…”

  Harry slid his hand down to cup one plump breast, rolling the firm nipple between his fingertips. “That good, hmm? Raphe, my girl thinks you’re very good with your mouth.”

  Raphe lifted his head and gave him a wicked grin. “Want to find out?” he teased, licking his lips.

  Harry laughed. “No, thanks. Come here, don’t you want to find out how good she is with hers?”

  He didn’t have to ask twice, as Raphe shifted up beside December on her other side and turned his hips toward her, cock tapping her soft lips. Harry slid one hand into her soft, tumbled hair and guided her forward. She made the most delicious, decadent sounds as she let him in – like a woman being fed her favorite dessert. Harry had never met anyone with such an uninhibited soul. Shame didn’t seem to exist in her, only an openness welcoming whatever pleasure came her way. Harry wanted to offer her everything.

  December felt as if she was drowning in the scent and taste and touch of these two men. Where one ended, the other began and yet even with eyes closed she could sense which was Harry. His mouth, the brush of his fingers, the taste of his cock…there was no hesitation. She’d know him blindfolded.

  A niggling little voice wondered at that, asking why she was so in tune with a man she’d known barely a week and a half, but she ignored it, easily done when pleasure swamped her from all sides.

  She looked up at Raphe, drawing deep on his cock, and the reaction he had, the look on his face made her giddy inside. She wanted to please him, wanted to show him her skills, blow his damn mind…because that’s what Harry wanted. Harry wanted his best friend to envy his possession of her, even just a little. Oh, this was about pleasure, too, for everyone, but deep down it came down to Harry coming face to face with another man who wanted what he had…and him not being betrayed this time.

  He’d chosen his best friend for exactly that reason, because he trusted Raphe. And it meant, on some level, that he trusted December too. And that made her glow inside. It also made her crave with everything in her to give him what he wanted, to please him and make this experience everything he needed it to be.

  She could hardly call it a chore. Good lord, how did she get so lucky to be the sole focus of two such beautiful men? So different in so many ways, but in one they were matched – sheer masculine appeal.

  Raphe’s big hands, the knuckles etched with letters tattooed on them, sank into her hair, guiding her mouth in a slow sensual rhythm before he eased his grip and let her simply follow the lead he’d set. His eyes were a piercing, intense hazel, more green than gold and when they met her own, she felt that gaze like a physical touch. She realized abruptly that Raphe, like Harry, was a Dom. Harry had mentioned knowing him from a club – BDSM club most likely – but for some reason the clues hadn’t added up that Raphe was a Dom, too.

  But right now he wasn’t, he deferred to Harry and December couldn’t help but like him for that. He must care very much for Harry, to know him so well and know how not to trample the trust he’d been given. December pulled off his cock briefly to smile up at him, then kissed the head before taking him deep again. A moment of mutual understanding passed between them, sort of ‘Harry is important to me, let’s not let him down’ on both their parts. A conspiracy to help Harry together, almost.

  She put all of her effort into that blowjob, and then Harry nestled himself down between her thighs and she whimpered…so much for concentration. Harry stole it all for himself, greedy man. She smiled inwardly. God, she liked him so, so much.

  Raphe seemed to sense Harry was about to become her sole focus and he eased his cock from her mouth, moving behind her and sitting her up so he could kneel behind her and fondle her breasts, toying with her nipples while Harry worshipped her clenching, wet pussy.

  “Ohhh…Harry?” she whispered, panting.

  He flicked her clit with his tongue and lifted amused blue eyes to her. “Yes, beautiful?”

  “Will you…will you fuck me instead? Please?” She’d been waiting forever. Days of his presence taunting and tormenting but always leaving her unsatisfied at the end of the day, nights alone in this hotel room wishing he’d stayed and helped her turn the sheets into a sweaty, sex-scented tangle. She licked her dry lips, hips shifting in his hands. “Please, Harry… I need you.”

  Something in h
is eyes shifted at those words and it struck her to the core – how long since someone had needed him? How long since someone had needed her? Harry did, though and god help her, she needed him too in a way she wasn’t really prepared for. He looked at her and she suspected he knew she might not be talking about just sex. She kind of hoped he did know that, because every day it became so much more.

  He became so much more.

  He had her in his arms then, drawing her close, falling back on the bed so she straddled him and lay atop him. Their lips met and the kiss was possessive and demanding and sweet all at the same time. When it broke, the whole world seemed a little fuzzy, a little hazy, but then Raphe was there, behind her, over her and her heart pounded as they both rolled on condoms and lube got passed back and forth.

  And then there were fingers. So many big, blunt fingers pushing into her, stroking over her most sensitive parts. Harry’s dipped inside her pussy, filling her up, her body stretching around them easily. Raphe’s…his stroked over her back entrance, lubing her up before one finger pushed slowly inside. She exhaled heavily, leaning low against Harry’s chest, her cheek against his shoulder as she struggled to relax her body to let them both in. Ohhh…it’d been years since she’d had two at once and her heart raced in anticipation. She felt so full already, with two of Harry’s fingers and one of Raphe’s inside already, and then Harry eased in a third while Raphe thrust his, not going for a second yet.

  They were both infinitely gentle, yet at the same time she never lost that delicious feeling of objectification. Their pleasure was foremost here, Harry’s in particular, and she couldn’t explain why it turned her on so much to know she was the vessel for it. It just did and she had long ago stopped questioning why certain things aroused her. Acceptance was her default, so long as no one was getting hurt.

  “Good girl.” Harry’s lips feathered against her forehead. “Just relax, we’ve got you. I’ve got you…”

  Her fingers curled against his strong, lightly-furred chest, body easing even more and Raphe took that moment to slip a second finger inside her. She gasped, breath catching, and both men froze until she relaxed again, trembling. They overwhelmed her, the sensations bombarding her endlessly. When one would withdraw, the other sank deeper and in a few moments it’d be that times a hundred when cocks, not fingers filled her.

  And then it was cocks, slippery and hard, nudging against her and almost seeming to ask permission. She gave it with a long breath of relaxation as one, then the other sank home, taking her breath away. They didn’t move and Harry’s voice hovered on the edge of her consciousness, a soft, foggy comfort as she struggled to not fly apart at the seams. Who moved first, she didn’t know, but December suspected she did and before another heartbeat passed all three were rolling and thrusting and sliding together, a symphony of body parts and breaths and passion-filled sounds.

  Halfway through, December pushed up onto her elbows and met Harry’s eyes. Neither spoke, but they shared the same breath and they shared the same space and the communication between them happened almost on another level. His eyes told her ‘Don’t leave, stay, be mine’, and hers begged ‘Don’t ask that, I can’t say no, I can’t say yes’. His chanted ‘You belong to me, you belong to me, you belong to me’ and hers answered back ‘Yes, Yes, Yes’. There were no answers, there were no conclusions drawn, only needs and wants and each grasping for each other in the hopes what they could give would somehow be enough.

  The orgasm almost came as a surprise, she’d been so engulfed in the emotions. Pleasure was having none of that, though, and drew Raphe back into their circle as if he’d somehow been operating separately for a few minutes. Not anymore. Now it was all of them or none. December’s pleasure hinged on Harry who hinged on her who hinged on Raphe who hinged on them both and when it came it was an explosion the likes of which December thought she’d never experienced before and maybe never would again.

  Then Harry kissed her, deep and possessive and so, so tender…and anyone else in the world disappeared because he was her entire circle of existence in that moment. She belonged to him and nothing would ever be the same.

  Chapter Ten

  Raphe was gone, the hotel room was dark, December was in the shower and Harry was left alone with his thoughts. Not a great idea at the best of times. This was not the best of times.

  Oh, he didn’t regret the threesome. It’d been amazing and sexy and December was flawless as always…he just hadn’t planned for the aftereffects. How he felt sitting there on the bed, listening to the shower running and picturing December half an hour earlier. Naked and slick with sweat, come on her body that wasn’t only his, her beautiful breasts moving heavily with each panting breath as the three of them recovered from their exertions.

  It all tangled inside him at the moment. Pride – because she belonged to him and any Dom would be proud to call her his. Slivers of jealousy remembering Raphe’s hands on her, the way she’d moaned when Raphe went down on her, the eagerness with which she’d sucked the other man’s cock. And another emotion, lingering in the background but stronger than all the others, one he hadn’t expected at all – relief.

  Harry wasn’t even one hundred percent sure what he was so relieved about. That she hadn’t run off into the night with Raphe? It was absurd because he’d known that wouldn’t happen and yet he felt this immense relief that she was here, she still wanted to be here. She didn’t have to be anymore. She owed him nothing. December was in that bathroom, in that shower, and she was there because she chose to be.

  It stirred every primal, caveman sort of instinct he possessed, whipping those instincts into a frenzy. By the time the shower shut off, Harry was halfway dressed. He was completely dressed when she stepped out of the bathroom, warm and flushed and wet from her shower. December stilled, eyes widening and an almost sad expression crossing her face.

  “Oh…you’re leaving.”

  That tone, all disappointed and soft, ratcheted up his possessiveness even more. She didn’t want him to leave. He shook his head, striding across the room and pulling her into his arms. He didn’t care that his suit got wet. “No. We’re leaving. Get dressed, quickly.”

  She blinked in surprise when he let her go, but immediately obeyed, though she cast him sideways looks as she tugged the dresser drawer open. “Where are we going?”

  “My house.” He wasn’t making things very clear for her with his short, bitten off answers, but he was having a hard time not simply using the tie on her robe to bind her to the bed and stake his claim on her then and there. But no. Not here in this impersonal hotel room. He needed to do it in his home, on his turf, in his unused playroom.

  December hesitated for a moment before a little smile curved her lips. “Yes, Sir.”

  She knew. She knew what he wanted, why he wanted her there and she accepted his right to make that claim. His stomach clenched hard, and he had to shove his fists into his pockets to keep from hauling her against him and having his way with her right there.

  It took fifteen minutes to get downstairs, into the car and drive back to his house, but it might as well have been forever. Neither spoke on the drive. They didn’t need words when every glance they cast each other spoke volumes.

  His heart pounded in a steady, heavy rhythm as he shut the front door behind them. December turned slowly to face him in the entryway and then very deliberately slipped out of her coat, letting it fall to the floor. Followed by the soft, snug sweater she wore.

  Harry watched, leaning back against the door as she made the simple act of undressing a sensual affair. She bent at the waist to unzip her boots, glancing up at him through the silky fall of her hair. The shadows of the unlit entryway – he’d forgotten to turn on the lights – made her smile more sultry, more mysterious. Then she flipped her hair back and straightened, toeing the boots off. Before she could reach for the button and zipper of the jeans that appeared deliciously painted on, Harry brushed her hands aside and hooked a finger in her belt loop.

>   “Follow me.”

  He kept that finger hooked in the loop of her jeans, leading her along behind him to the stairs leading down to the basement and his playroom. When he pushed the door open and flipped on the low overhead lights, December let out a soft gasp behind him.

  “Harry.” She turned in a slow circle. “It’s not a tomb anymore.”

  It wasn’t. He’d spent the last day or two returning this space to its original purpose, its original atmosphere. Every surface gleamed, new toys and ‘tools of his trade’ hung on the walls and the bondage gear on the table looked new, too. The pulleys and suspension hooks were cleaned and oiled to perfection, the leather of the spanking bench shiny.

  More than just the playroom had been revived, though. She was slowly but surely dusting off all the abandoned places inside himself as well.

  He drew her into his arms, hands sinking into her hair. “I’m starting not to feel like one, either.”

  Harry turned her to face away from him, propelling her forward to stand in front of the spanking bench.

  “Lean over, put your hands on the top of the bench.”

  She obeyed.

  Harry reached around to pop the button on her jeans, lowering the zipper very slowly, one notch at a time. He could hear her breath kick up, tremors rippling through her with every rasp of the zipper. When it was down, Harry sank down to his knees behind her and peeled the tight denim over the lush, round curve of her ass.

  At first, it didn’t want to move, clinging to her body like a lover. Harry couldn’t blame the material for being so reluctant to let her go. God, he could relate. Then, abruptly, it gave and Harry drew the fabric down her long, long legs. She wore no panties and he paused with her jeans around her thighs, hands sliding up over the pale, plump flesh of her ass. He let out a breath, eyes closing as he laid his cheek against her skin.

  “Harry,” she whispered, trembling.

  “Shhh,” he urged. “Let me.”