“You certainly haven’t lost your fancy for pretty boys,” Robert drawled. “Does he taste as sweet as he looks?”
“Stay the fuck away from him,” Devon growled. “Whatever your game is, I’m the only one you’ll play it with. Don’t pollute him or the rest of the cast with your insinuations.”
“You don’t think he’d appreciate my attentions? I’m hurt,” Robert replied, amused at the protectiveness the big blond was showing toward the pretty chit he’d seen on set that afternoon. “I bet he’d beg for it with the right encouragement.”
Devon couldn’t help but feel a flush of pride and arousal at remembering the times he’d made Kit beg—followed by an immediate wave of disgust so raw that for a moment he was afraid he was going to vomit. “You make me sick,” Devon hissed. “Say what you’re going to say and then fuck off.”
Robert laughed. “Who’s going to make me? You? You couldn’t do it before, sneaking away in the middle of the night like a fucking coward instead of facing me like a man. I think I’ll drop by one of these nights and put him through his paces, see if you’ve gotten any better at training them. You sure as hell couldn’t get it right with Blaine.”
“You come anywhere near him or anyone else on this set and you’ll find out how much of a man I am,” Devon snarled. “Don’t tell me I hurt your feelings when I left—is that what this is about? I didn’t think you cared so much.”
“Tell me when and where,” Robert answered. “We’ll see if you still remember how to crawl.”
Shouldering open the front door, his arms full of steaming cartons, Jonathan stopped in his tracks at the expression on Devon’s face as he held the phone to his ear. That bastard, he realized, his rare temper flaring as he watched Devon’s hand clench around the receiver. It must be that bastard Robert.
“Devon?” Kit called softly to get Devon’s attention. He gestured for Devon to hang up.
“Is he there?” Robert asked, hearing another voice. “You’re generous, giving him permission to call you by your name. Tell him I’m looking forward to meeting him. Soon.” He set the receiver into the cradle and leaned back against the headboard of the bed in his hotel room, well satisfied with the way things were turning out.
Jonathan dropped the food on the table and pulled the phone from Devon’s hand, squeezing his shoulder as he held the receiver to his ear. “Listen, you prick,” he started, but only the hum of a dial tone answered him.
“Bastard hung up,” he fumed, setting the handset back in its cradle and turning to Devon. “What did he say to you, babe?”
Offering silent support, Kit ran his hand up and down Devon’s arm. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to deal with him alone.”
Devon leaned into Jonathan’s embrace, shaking his head. “Just more of the same shite he’s been spreading all week,” he answered, unwilling to repeat the innuendos about Kit. “I shouldn’t let him wind me up that way, but he still knows exactly how to set me off.”
Nodding to Kit, Jonathan guided them to the couch, settling Devon between them. “Maybe so, but remember you beat him. You walked away,” Jonathan insisted. “You don’t owe him anything, least of all conversation. Just hang up the next time he calls.”
“That’s right,” Kit agreed. “Whatever it was he did that drove you away, focus on that. He doesn’t have a hold over you anymore.”
“Kit’s got the right idea.” Jonathan rubbed soothingly over the tense muscles at the base of Devon’s neck. “What made you leave him back then? Maybe remembering that will make it easier for you to turn your back on him again this time.”
Devon sighed, twisting his head to work out the kinks as Jonathan’s touch turned into a deeper massage. “Aren’t you sick of listening to me blather?” His lovers had been nothing but accepting of everything he’d revealed to them about his past, but a part of him couldn’t help but wonder when he would reach the limits of their acceptance.
“No,” Kit declared. “This isn’t a game, where we give up just because things get difficult. If something’s bothering you, we want to know about it so we can help.” Kit glanced at Jonathan as he spoke. It wasn’t something they’d talked about, but Kit couldn’t imagine Jonathan not feeling the same.
“Nothing you tell us is going to make us think any less of you,” Jonathan insisted. “Especially anything that made you decide to leave that ba—” He bit off the epithet, knowing Devon needed support, not anger. He wished he dared to admit the truth of what he really felt, why the thought of Robert’s abuse made him angrier than he could ever remember being in his life, but he wasn’t sure how Devon would react, and his control was so precarious now that Jonathan couldn’t risk a confession that might be unwelcome. “No matter what you tell us, we’ll be here for you,” he said instead.
Devon rested his elbows on his knees, dropping his head into his palms. “I thought the—the knife play—would have driven Blaine off, as badly as he’d been hurt, but it didn’t.” Devon shook his head, falling deeper into the memory. “Robert said since I’d already marked him, we ought to make it permanent, something he could never forget. And I wouldn’t do it—I couldn’t.”
“More permanent?” Kit repeated with a shudder as he thought about the cutting Blaine had endured. “Like what? A tattoo?”
Devon tried in vain to think of some way to soften the confession. “A brand,” he said flatly.
“That’s sick!” Kit cried, his outrage getting the better of his self-control. “I’m glad you told the bastard to take his twisted ideas and shove them up his arse!”
Jonathan might have smiled at Kit’s vehemence if he wasn’t so shocked. He wasn’t averse to the idea of tattoos—each of his own was linked to a special memory—but to brand someone like a horse, as a sign of ownership… no wonder it was more than Devon could bear. “So you left?” he asked quietly, squeezing Devon’s hand.
“Aye, but it wasn’t in any burst of righteousness,” Devon muttered, dropping his eyes from Kit’s. “I didn’t confront him and tell him off; I didn’t even fucking tell him I was leaving. When filming wrapped the next day, I just packed up and left. I hadn’t seen either of them again—until today.”
“You left,” Kit repeated. “You knew he was wrong and you left. That’s all that matters.”
Jonathan suspected that not having faced Robert when he left was part of the reason he still haunted Devon now, but he wasn’t going to let the sadistic fucker anywhere near his lover again, not if there was any way he could stop him. “I’m sick of talking about that cocksucker,” he said crudely. He leaned forward and ran his tongue up the side of Devon’s neck and around the shell of his ear. “I can think of a lot more pleasant ways to spend our time.”
“I’ll second that notion,” Kit agreed, grabbing Devon’s and Jonathan’s hands and pulling them to their feet. “Let’s go someplace more comfortable.”
Devon reached over to turn off the phone’s ringer before facing them. “Let him call now,” he said with a twisted smile, wishing he could turn off the echo of Robert’s voice in his head as easily.
They would never be able to truly relax with the tension still hanging in the air, Kit knew. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the other two men. “Race you!”
Jonathan met Kit’s eyes in a silent message of approval before breaking into a wide grin. “Last one naked has to blow the other two,” he challenged, already pulling his shirt over his head.
“Not fair, you’re already halfway there,” Devon protested, glancing at Jonathan’s bare feet as he struggled to kick off his shoes and unbutton his slacks at the same time. “And I happen to know you’re not wearing anything under those jeans.”
Kit thought Jonathan’s “punishment” sounded pretty damn appealing. He sprinted for the bedroom, determined to lose the race and win the challenge.
Chapter 5: Breaking Free
DEVON LEANED back against the headboard of the king-size bed, enjoying the view of Jonathan’s lean arse wriggling out of his jeans. H
e cocked an eyebrow at Kit, still struggling with the buttons of his cargo trousers. “What’s this, Percival? Can you not match the deeds of your king and your fellow knight?” he drawled in Lancelot’s most prideful voice.
Kit’s face broke into a wide grin. “I have not your years of experience,” he pointed out, taking his time with his clothes as his gaze raked Devon’s naked body and Jonathan’s nearly naked one. “Of course, I shall reap the fruits of that experience.”
“How so?” Jonathan answered in Arthur’s deeper tones, kicking his jeans free and dropping onto the bed next to Devon, “when by the terms of our wager you must now serve our pleasure? I would say it is we who have the advantage of you.” He winked at Devon, glad to see the lines of tension that had creased his forehead eased away by their banter.
“You do not think it will be my pleasure to serve you?” Kit asked smoothly, reaching out to stroke the two knights’ swelling cocks. “I find myself rather eager, suddenly, to be of such service.” He dropped to his knees. “May I see to you, my king?”
Unable to stay in character, Jonathan contorted in laughter. “Devon should really have the honor of your attentions, since he was the first one naked, but if I tell you to see to Lancelot first, one of us is going to wind up making that corny ‘uses his lance a lot’ joke,” he said with a chuckle.
Kit laughed too. “Well, Devon,” he asked, still grinning, “where do you want me?”
The touch of Kit’s hand and the thought of that laughing mouth closing over his cock brought Devon to full, straining hardness. He slid forward, spreading his thighs to bracket Kit’s shoulders. “Between my legs, of course,” he answered cockily, leaning back on his palms.
“Of course,” Kit repeated in a mocking voice, though his grin belied the tone of his words. He scooted forward a little more so he knelt at the foot of the bed between Devon’s widespread thighs. He dipped his head and nuzzled the inside of one leg, nipping lightly at the skin. “Was that what you had in mind?”
Jonathan settled back against the headboard, his hand gliding gently over his own erection as he watched his lovers teasing each other. They were such opposites in so many ways—light and dark, north and south, rough and smooth—but they complemented each other perfectly. Once again he wondered how he’d ever gotten lucky enough to have not one, but two such incredible men in his life.
Devon drew a hissing breath, his cock jumping at each pinch of Kit’s teeth on the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. “Take your time,” he muttered, his voice deepened with arousal. “I’m sure you’ll find it eventually.”
Kit laughed again, darting his tongue to dampen Devon’s bollocks before resuming his leisurely exploration of his lover’s legs.
“You have done this before,” Devon reminded Kit, arching his hips into the teasing flicker of Kit’s tongue over his bollocks.
“And why is that a reason not to take my time and enjoy it this time?” Kit inquired, looking up at Devon.
“Because you have another lover waiting for his turn?” Jonathan chimed in, his voice playful. “Take your time. Just remember I expect at least as much attention when you get around to me.”
Kit lifted his head and licked his lips. “I can’t wait,” he replied huskily. “Devon won, though, so he gets my undivided attention first. I’m sure you can figure out a way to keep yourself entertained while I see to him.”
“Don’t entertain yourself too well,” Devon warned, threading a hand into Kit’s curls to gently encourage him to return his mouth to where it belonged. “I want to watch him bring you off when we’re done, my king.”
Kit let himself be led, curving his lips around the breadth of Devon’s cock, inhaling deeply the scent of the soap he had used in the shower and of the arousal that was so much a part of their lives. He worked his way slowly toward the head, then lowered his mouth over the tip and sucked in the entire length.
A deep moan rumbled in Devon’s chest as the velvet softness of Kit’s mouth enveloped him. Leaving his hand resting lightly on Kit’s head, he trailed his free hand down his abdomen, his muscles trembling at the dual sensations.
The sounds from Devon’s lips were music to Kit’s ears. He smiled around the cock in his mouth and hummed deep in his throat, letting the vibrations add to the sensations already assailing Devon.
Devon’s fingertips followed his pale treasure trail downward to the patch of hair that surrounded his cock. His hips arched upward involuntarily, pushing him deeper into the warm cavern that surrounded him. He played through the short curls, moving his fingers closer until they could brush against Kit’s cheek.
Kit tipped his head into the tender caress. He looked up at Devon, letting all the love he felt show in his eyes. He could not say the words with his mouth full of Devon’s erection, but he gave the emotions free rein on his face. It no longer seemed like a risk to open himself up that way, not when Devon touched him so lovingly.
The pressure in Devon’s chest had nothing to do with the sensations Kit’s mouth was creating and everything to do with the expression in his bottomless brown eyes. He wanted to speak the words that would tell Kit how much he’d come to feel for him—to love him—but he was too overcome by the strength of the emotion to find his voice. He settled for tracing his fingers over Kit’s lips, the caress as close to a kiss as his current position would allow.
Jonathan’s breath caught as he watched the look his lovers shared—a look that was clearly one of mutual love. A few months ago, he might have been devastated to see them gaze at each other that way, but his feelings for both of them had deepened so much, it gave him only joy to watch them sharing this moment. He knew they would welcome him if he moved to join them, but he was content to give them this time together, knowing he had his own place in both their hearts.
Kit’s eyes fluttered shut when Devon’s fingers traced his lips. He opened his mouth a little wider, catching the tip of one finger between his lips and Devon’s cock, returning the kiss as best he could in his current position. Then he turned his attention to his lover’s pleasure, bringing his hands into play, one on Devon’s bollocks, the other farther back, ghosting across the tight pucker of flesh.
Devon’s head fell back as Kit’s hands joined his mouth, escalating the pleasure. He quivered as the slender hand drifted between his cheeks and over the muscle that clenched at each gentle touch. “Kitten,” he gasped, the nickname all he could manage before another moan was wrenched from his throat.
Taking the diminutive and the moan for approval, Kit repeated his caress, the tip of one finger probing more deliberately at Devon’s entrance as he continued to bob his head on the thick cock in his mouth. Without lube, he wasn’t going to do more than tantalize, but he had no qualms whatsoever about teasing Devon to the limits of his endurance.
Spasms of need shook through Devon at each press of Kit’s finger. He fought not to thrust wildly into his mouth, his hips rocking in between the wet suction on his cock and the penetration he craved. “Please,” he groaned as the pressure inside him grew nearly unbearable, “need to, God, please.”
Kit’s eyes flicked to the tube lying on the bedside table, well out of his reach. If he’d been closer, he would have grabbed it so he could finish Devon off the way he so obviously wanted.
Devon’s plea and Kit’s sidelong glance drew Jonathan from his loving reverie. Retrieving the lube from the nightstand, he slid forward to place it at Kit’s side, pausing to drop a kiss on Devon’s stomach and another on Kit’s cheek before leaning back against the headboard again, his hand settling around his growing erection.
Sending Jonathan a grateful look, Kit popped the top on the lube and coated his fingers quickly, then slid his index finger slowly but firmly inside Devon’s body, crooking the tip to find his sweet spot. The yelp that escaped let him know he found it. Meeting Devon’s eyes, he pressed again, sucking hard as he silently asked his lover to come for him.
Kit’s long, slender finger pushing into him was all Devon neede
d to lose himself completely. Circling his hips to rub against the invading digit, he cried out hoarsely and gave in to his body’s demand for release, clenching his fists in dark hair as he pulsed into Kit’s insistent mouth.
Kit swallowed all Devon had to give him, relishing the tangy, slightly bitter flavor as he continued to work his prostate, prolonging the climax for as long as he could. Devon needed this release of tension after the day they’d had. They all needed it. He’d taken care of Devon. Jonathan was next…. Then he’d see about getting them to take care of him.
After bestowing a last loving lick on Devon’s softening cock, Kit lifted his head and met Jonathan’s eyes. “Well, my king?” he drawled.
Watching Devon come undone under Kit’s loving ministrations had left Jonathan achingly aroused, but before he claimed his prize, he needed to kiss Kit. Opening his arms wide, he beckoned Kit to come to him where he leaned against the headboard.
Devon rolled to the side of the bed as his breath steadied and his pulse slowly calmed to a normal level. The tension that had wracked him for the past days was gone, and a warm smile spread across his face as he watched Kit crawl up the mattress and into Jonathan’s waiting embrace. Jonathan immediately pulled Kit into a heated kiss, and Devon knew Jonathan was tasting his own release as his tongue plundered Kit’s mouth.
Kit settled easily against the familiar warmth of Jonathan’s body, giving his mouth willingly. Jonathan’s tongue was a welcome invasion as it sought out every last taste of Devon’s come. Kit had pushed his own desire to the side while he was taking care of Devon, but now, with Jonathan in charge, his self-control wavered, and he arched his hips forward, rubbing shamelessly against Jonathan’s thigh.
Savoring the mingled flavors of saltiness and sweetness, Jonathan could have lost himself in feasting on Kit’s kiss. The temptation to pull Kit’s hips against his, to drag their swollen, leaking shafts together until they both found release, was nearly overpowering. But that wasn’t what they’d wagered, and reluctantly he eased back from the kiss, trying to rein in his rampant emotions with a light response. “Don’t think you can get out of the second half of your forfeit by distracting me this way,” he teased, circling the base of his shaft in a tight grip as he willed back his all-too-eager reaction. “In fact, I think I deserve something special for my patience.”
No Limits Page 6
