Sean: Quintessence The Sequel: Part IV

by Akeroyd, Serena

  They were both trembling, and Sean wasn’t ashamed of that. He could feel wetness on his shoulder and knew Dev was crying—fucking crying. Shit, it about tore at Sean’s insides to know that he’d made him cry, but Devon had to open his eyes, and Sean needed to make sure that when he did, Dev wasn’t looking out at the world through the eyes of a child born in an abusive marriage.

  Devon pressed his face to Sean’s shoulder and whispered, “I hurt her.”

  “Yes. You did,” he replied softly. “So did I. But her reactions to the way we did it are what differ.”

  “How can she like it, Sean?”

  There was an agony in his voice that cut him to shreds. He wasn’t talking to Devon at this moment in time, but the kid who’d found his mother bleeding out in the bath. The kid who checked in on Sascha when she was in the tub to make sure their woman was okay…

  There were so many things wrong in Devon’s past that there was no way to right them, not really, which was what hurt the most.

  He sucked in a deep breath and explained, “She likes how it makes her feel. You don’t have to understand it, Devon, to accept it. We’re not abusing her. She wants this, wants me, us, like this. The second she doesn’t, that’s when we stop. The onus is with her.”

  Devon cringed in his arms but after a few seconds, he nodded and began to pull away. When Sean turned to look at Sascha, he saw she was watching them both. Her eyelashes made the points of stars, and her eyes, while red, sparkled and shone with her tears.

  “I love you both. So much,” she whispered. “Don’t make me choose, Devon. Please. Don’t.”

  He stiffened, and Sean shot him a wary look, but when Dev released a sharp breath then headed over to her side, Sean relaxed.

  “Can I watch?”

  Sascha startled at that, then frowned as he sunk down beside her. She tilted her head to the side and asked, “What?”

  Dev huffed. “Thought it was self-explanatory. Can I watch him do that to you?”

  “Change the vocab, Dev,” Sean grumbled.

  The other man thought about his words for a second, then dipped his chin. “Can I see you get excited about what happens when you’re both in this headspace?” He licked his lips. “Maybe if I see your pleasure, then I won’t worry about your pain?”

  Sascha sobbed and hurled herself into Devon’s arms, and Sean? He just released a relieved breath and knew, even though the evening hadn’t started off this way, that they’d turned so many corners tonight that they were headed in a completely different direction than where they’d started.

  So long as the destination was brighter than it had been of late, Sean didn’t care where it took them, only that it was away from the shadows of the recent past.

  ❖

  “Maybe tomorrow, Devon,” Sean rasped. “It’s been a very long day.”

  Sascha scrubbed at the tear tracks on her cheeks and shook her head. “No.” Then, louder, more strident, she stated, “No, Sean.”

  She peered up at him from within the confines of Devon’s loving embrace and saw him frown at her then at Dev. He reached up and rubbed at his eyes, looking so gorgeous as he did so that she could have bitten him. Yep, bitten him.

  Jesus.

  In a pair of pajama pants, no man should look this good, and yet here he was. In the flesh. She knew he worked out, knew he and Sawyer went to the gym together and often drooled when the pair of them came back all wet after a shower. But staring at him, seeing him like this? She truly appreciated his efforts.

  “I wasn’t even going to do that much tonight,” Sean admitted, breaking into her lustful thoughts. “It’s been a hell of a day.”

  She gnawed on her bottom lip then nudged Devon in the side. He shot her a look. “What?”

  Wriggling in place and feeling like Tin when he was working up the courage to ask for candy, she nudged him again.

  “Sascha, what?” he demanded this time, grabbing her hand and lengthening her arm to avoid being nudged. “I’m getting the hint, Sascha, I just don’t know what the hint is.”

  Sean snorted. “Devon, you’re so blind sometimes.”

  Sascha cleared her throat. “Well, I mean… we’ve never. You know.”

  “No. I don’t.” He frowned. “Never what?”

  “You, Sean, and me.”

  His eyes widened. “Well, no. Sean doesn’t do that.”

  “Why doesn’t Sean do that?” Sascha asked Devon, and the question was aimed at Sean, but it was easier to ask Dev.

  “Because Sean’s a possessive arsehole who doesn’t like sharing,” was the man’s retort.

  Devon snickered, shooting Sean a look. “Don’t know what you’re missing out on. She has the best arse in the world.”

  Her cheeks were pink as she primly said, “Well, I think I should have heard that compliment first.”

  He winked at her. “You know I love your butt.”

  “Well, yes,” she said with a sniff, “but…”

  “No buts, unless it’s the butt,” he quipped with a quick grin. Then he cut Sean a look. “I’m game.”

  “When aren’t you?” Sean huffed. “Dammit, this conversation has derailed.” He rubbed his chin. “Sascha, are you sure—”

  “Of course.” And she was. Her blood was on fire at the thought of being shared by Sean and Devon.

  Sean only ever let Kurt get involved in the bedroom. Mostly because Kurt liked watching and Sean liked being watched—he’d probably never admit to that though. They didn’t cross swords, and there were never any sloppy seconds, a prospect that had her almost drooling.

  God, she was turning herself on here without even trying.

  Sean closed his eyes, blew out a breath, then stated, “Stand up.”

  On shaky legs, she did as she was told, using Devon as a prop. He helped her up too until she was toddling over to her man, a man that looked, without a doubt, conflicted, but his eyes burned with a fire she understood — a fire she liked to feel flicker against her skin.

  Gulping, she came to a halt in front of him. Her body bare for his gaze, his delight.

  “Bend over and touch your toes.”

  Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but he reached up and tapped her cheek. “Don’t question, just do,” he rasped.

  Her insides flip-flopped around at his stern tone, at his lack of give, and though something inside her rebelled at his sternness, something more powerful urged her to relent. To concede to this strong man who knew her better than she knew herself sometimes.

  She turned around, faced Devon, and saw he was studying her like she was a mathematical equation he’d yet to solve.

  Her cheeks were pink but she folded over so that her eyes were on her shins, her hands draping gracefully over her feet.

  A shudder wracked her as his hands dug into her hips, and he said, “Devon, she doesn’t always want to obey, but she usually does.”

  “Why?” Dev asked.

  “Come here,” Sean invited, and she heard Dev shuffle around as he got to his feet and moved to their side.

  That both of them were staring at her like this, all her flaws on display, her ass as wide as it was going to get, her thighs thick and round under their perusal, her belly squidgy and not as taut as it should be, made her both hot and cold. Cold because she was embarrassed even though she knew they loved her, warts and all—thank God she really didn’t have any warts though, because that might have been the final straw for her ego at that moment—but hot too, because they were studying her. Clinically.

  Sean was explaining. Instructing Devon, and that had her blood racing, surging through her veins so fast it was a wonder she didn’t feel faint from high blood pressure.

  Devon thrust two fingers into her pussy, making her jerk and tumble forward. Only Sean’s hands on her hips kept her upright, in place, and she shuddered as Devon noted, “She’s sopping.”

  Sean hummed. “Always.”

  Devon finger-fucked her as they talked, like she wasn’t even there, like he did
n’t even realize he was doing it. “But why? She didn’t want to obey you.”

  “No, but she knew I’d make it worth her while, and she also knew if she didn’t, I’d make her regret it.”

  Those words had Devon stilling, just as her body was starting to creep up toward a small peak.

  “That doesn’t sound good, Sean,” he responded. “Regret it? How?”

  Sean hummed. “Take your fingers out.”

  A mewl escaped her now that she was empty.

  “She wants your fingers, Devon. But why give them to her if she doesn’t behave?”

  There was the sound of a tongue clucking, like suddenly everything that was confusing in the entire universe made sense.

  “I do that too,” Devon admitted, and there was a note of caution in his voice that surprised her. Well, sort of. He did do that. He did deny her until she did as he wanted in the sack, and Sascha wondered if that was as much of a revelation for him as it was to her.

  He’d been controlling her orgasms for years, but they’d never put a label on it.

  Sean, inadvertently, had.

  She purred when Dev’s fingers returned to her cunt, but this time, he reached down and rubbed her clit.

  Sean sighed, but his fingers gripped her hips tighter as he moved into her so that she felt his cock rub her ass, the soft cotton pajama bottoms slid against her sensitized skin in a way that had her clenching her jaw.

  “Why do you tie her up?”

  “Because I like it,” Sean admitted. “I like seeing her that way, spread out for my pleasure. Sawyer and Andrei are the same. You know how she is — always moving. Sometimes it’s nice to make her still. It makes her pussy like a vise when she comes because she isn’t used to it, she’s used to freedom.”

  Devon sighed. “You can’t tell me this is all for her, Sean.”

  “No. Maybe not. I’m not that ambivalent or generous,” Sean joked, but his voice had deepened. “I like seeing rope against her creamy flesh, and I like spanking her. I love watching her butt jiggle and grow pink under my palm, and that’s for me. It’s my own personal porn. But knowing that she gets off on it? That’s what detonates me every time.

  “She wants this, Devon. Feel how wet she is. She isn’t running screaming for the hills, is she?”

  “No,” Devon agreed reluctantly.

  “Sascha?”

  She wasn’t pissed that they were talking about her and around her rather than, up until to now, to her, but their conversation was, she’d admit, making her even wetter.

  Sean’s own personal porn?

  Dammit, wasn’t that the most empowering thing she’d heard all year?

  “Yes,” she whispered, then jerked when his hand came down on her ass. “Yes, sir?”

  He hummed even as he rubbed where he’d just hit. “Did you eat today?”

  She released a thankful sigh at the question because she had a good answer for him today. “I did.”

  “All three meals?”

  “Yes. And a snack.” And didn’t her jeans fucking know it. But the kitchens here were heaven. Seriously. What they made would have Michelin-star chefs weeping in dismay.

  Sean’s delight was evident as he praised, “Well done, darling,” and like that, he was crouching down on his knees and before she knew it, her clit was literally in his mouth.

  It happened in a flash.

  From nothing to every-fucking-thing.

  He’d pulled her lips apart, spread them wide and even as Devon’s fingers were close to touching his head—she could see through the space between her legs—his mouth attacked.

  She immediately rocked onto her tiptoes and the move destabilized her, but she didn’t care. A forearm shot out and tunneled between her belly and thighs to hold her still, to keep her in place. Devon.

  There was no moving, no avoiding Sean’s attack. He slurped at her clit like he was a kid intent on decimating his ever-lasting gobstopper, and God help her, she wanted to be decimated.

  It should have been embarrassing how fast she came, but with Sean sucking on her clit like there was no tomorrow and Devon’s fingers thrusting into her, dragging down against that sensitive patch deep inside her cunt where her G-spot lay?

  Hell no, there was no avoiding this.

  She exploded. Burst into a million pieces, only for those pieces to be reformed, forged anew into a Sascha-shaped blob. Her cries were both agonized and delighted because the two of them didn’t stop, made no move to leave her alone to come down.

  They carried on.

  Dragging her higher and higher, taking her to the next level, a level that only existed when Sean, Andrei, or Sawyer were doing something deliciously wicked to her.

  Her second orgasm had her knees crumbling and she knew that was the only reason they stopped. When Sean helped prop her upright, he ceased slurping her juices down like they were a shot of tequila—and she knew that was a gross visual, but holy fuck, in the flesh? There was nothing hotter—and he got to his feet. Devon’s fingers made a retreat too and when Sean helped her straighten, he nipped at her ass on his way up.

  Her face was so beyond red that it might as well have been steaming. She groaned as she was hauled back against a strong, lean form, and moaned harder when Devon’s hands came up to cup her tits—she’d recognize those fingers anywhere.

  How he earned calluses when he pushed nothing more than paper, she’d never know, but Lord help her, she’d thank God every day for them.

  He tweaked her nipples, pulling at them, tugging until the muscles of her belly rolled and she arched up on tiptoe.

  “Pinch down, Devon,” Sean instructed, and he obeyed, and somehow that made it all the hotter.

  This was the sexiest class she’d ever been in.

  Bar none.

  A squeak escaped her and she shuddered as she stumbled back into Devon’s strength when he pinched down. Hard.

  Fuck, that stung.

  “W-Why?” she whimpered.

  “Did I say you could come?”

  Sean’s tone was cool, and it lashed at her like a whip. Her breath stuttered and she realized she’d walked into his trap.

  Two orgasms.

  Both not permitted.

  Fuck.

  She gulped, her eyes reaching his, but he was stepping away, heading for one of the many closets in his room.

  Devon nuzzled his nose into her jaw and he whispered, “Sascha?”

  A whimper escaped her. “Y-Yes, love?”

  “You have the best pussy in the world.”

  She couldn’t withhold the snort. “Thank you, honey.”

  “Seriously,” he told her. “It’s all wet and juicy—”

  Weren’t all pussies? Sascha found herself asking inwardly. At least, with the right men?

  When he groaned, his own words turning him on, her eyes about rolled back in her head because sweet fuck, what this man could do to her.

  She wasn’t entirely sure why all five of her guys found her so hot. She didn’t have confidence issues, but she wasn’t a skinny minny no matter how hard they warbled on at her about losing weight, and her ass wasn’t tight and firm, her tits were kinda saggy and, shit, not one bit of her was perfect, but the way they acted? It was like they had a Sports Illustrated model in their bed.

  Not that was she was complaining, of course.

  But still, it made her wish she could see herself through their eyes, because sheesh, she really must be banging the way they went on about her body.

  Dev grabbed a deeper hold on her tits and murmured, “I never want to hurt you, Sascha.”

  “This is a different hurt,” she assured him. “You like fucking me, Dev?”

  He stilled. “Is this a trick question?”

  She snickered. “Nope. Do you like fucking me?” Her attention split between him and Sean when she heard a zipper being opened.

  Distracted, she forced herself to focus when Dev murmured, “Of course I do.”

  “And when you’re really frustrated, and you
pound into me?”

  He grunted, and his fingers tightened around her flesh. “Yeah. Hard and fast, baby.”

  Her already-wet pussy got a little bit wetter. “Do you think that doesn’t hurt after?”

  Devon stilled behind her again. “That’s different.”

  “Is it?” She rolled her head on his shoulder so she could look at him. “I’m not complaining. It’s a good hurt, especially as many times as you make me come, but I’m still sore the next day.”

  He was frowning, and she didn’t want him to, but these things were food for thought where he was concerned.

  Devon was so certain she was being abused when she wasn’t, and he only believed that in the first place because of his past. But this wasn’t his past. It was his present, and his future, and he needed to accept that sometimes, and not every time, she liked a bit of pain with her pleasure.

  It was like adding salt to a dessert—it made it all the sweeter.

  Of course, they had to be her famous last words. Sean returned with something that looked like it belonged in someone from the Spanish Inquisition’s arsenal.

  “What’s that?” Devon asked, and she was grateful because it saved her from having to.

  “A Wartenburg wheel.” Sean pursed his lips. “Safe word time, Sascha.”

  She stiffened. “Really?”

  He shrugged. “It can hurt. Just say ‘red’ if you want me to stop.”

  Biting her bottom lip, she nodded and watched on as he spun the small device on his fingertip. It was a small tool. About eight inches in length, more handle than anything, but a wheel hung suspended between two points at the tip, and the wheel was covered in spikes.

  “Hold out her tits, Dev,” came the next instruction and Devon complied.

  Sean began to drag the spikes along her skin. “It can tickle if we move it gently. Or it can bite if we dig deep.” He gave her examples of each. “Then it can scratch if I want it to.”

  She absorbed each different sensation, and found it distinctly odd. It wasn’t nice or nasty. Neither pleasant nor unpleasant. But against her sensitive skin, it made her feel on edge. Antsy.

  Sean began to run the wheel over her tits, back and forth, digging a little harder down on her nipple, which made her yelp before he instantly retreated and dove around the dips and troughs of her flesh.