Jonathan could feel himself being stretched, but he’d been this open before—more, even, with some of the larger plugs from the toy box. With four fingers in him, Devon couldn’t help but brush over his prostate with every movement, and Jonathan focused on that, the heady buzz of pleasure coming as regular as a metronome with each unvaried stroke. It was just enough to keep him on edge and too little to satisfy, and after another few thrusts he whimpered softly, trying to find his voice to ask for more.
Devon had just poured more lube over his hand, folding his thumb in between the longer fingers, when Jonathan’s moan made him pause before pressing in. “Still doing all right, love?” he asked, bending close to Jonathan’s face. His lover had closed his eyes when he’d come, but he hadn’t given any hint of being distressed until now. Jonathan whimpered again, and Devon froze, ready to pull out completely if he needed to, when Jonathan shook his head.
“M-more,” Jonathan whispered, forcing his eyes open to meet Devon’s. “Please—don’t stop.”
Devon closed his lips over Jonathan’s as he eased all five fingers in slowly, pausing when the widest part of his knuckles rested between Jonathan’s cheeks. Rotating them slowly, he watched for any sign of pain, but Jonathan’s moans were only ones of pleasure as Devon stroked inside him. “You’re doing so well, Jon,” Devon praised, spreading the furled fingers as widely as he could. “Just a little more now. Are you ready?”
“Now,” Jonathan panted, willing himself not to push or clench in his need to feel Devon inside him. “Want you—all of you—”
Upending the bottle, Devon drizzled lube generously over his hand and Jonathan’s crease, pressing inward as he twisted with excruciating slowness. It seemed as if he could feel himself, cell by cell, sliding inside Jonathan, the clinging slickness welcoming him, drawing him in.
Jonathan wanted to keep his eyes open, wanted to watch as Devon filled him, but as the stretch continued, he found he needed all his attention just to keep breathing, in and out, biting his lip to keep from letting any sound escape that might make Devon stop. Yes, it burned, but not more than he could bear, knowing that he was opening himself for his lover. There was a sudden moment of fierce pain, and then it was gone and Devon was sliding inside him, easily, it seemed, and Jonathan cried out in relief and sudden joy. “Devon! Oh fuck, Devon….”
Bracing himself with his free hand above Jonathan’s head, Devon kissed him wetly, messily, wildly. “Love you,” he whispered against Jonathan’s lips, “love you so bloody much….”
“I… can feel you,” Jonathan murmured, awe tingeing his voice. “Feel your pulse, your heart beating, inside me.”
Kit flinched. He could hear the emotions in Jonathan’s voice as clearly as if he felt them himself, and he knew that however bothered he was by everything he’d seen, Jonathan wasn’t. And the love, the dedication he heard in Jonathan’s voice drew him like a lodestone. He had already shifted his weight, starting to walk in and join them, when he realized what would happen if he did. They’d freeze up. Devon would withdraw quickly so he wouldn’t make Kit uncomfortable, possibly hurting Jonathan in the process. Jonathan would be all apologetic about having needs Kit couldn’t meet, and it would destroy the very thing he wanted to join. Better to wait until they were done, and he could deal with everything he’d learned today, about them and about himself.
Jonathan stretched to reach Devon’s lips again, driving his tongue deep into Devon’s mouth, wanting to fill his lover as completely as he was filled, an unbroken connection of body and spirit. If only Kit were with them—he pushed the thought away and cupped Devon’s cheek in his palm, surprised to find moisture there. He brushed at the drops with his fingertips, hoping he’d managed to replace at least one of Devon’s painful memories. “I love you. And I want you to make love to me.”
“Be a bit of a tight fit,” Devon said shakily. “Maybe I’d better pull out first and see how you feel after that, eh?”
“No!” Jonathan cried, his muscles clenching in involuntary protest around Devon’s wrist. Losing Devon’s fullness now would be a thousand times worse than the momentary emptiness he felt when his lover pulled out after prepping him.
Jonathan squeezing around him made Devon pause. He hadn’t planned more than this, but he had to admit he wanted to feel Jonathan shuddering in bliss at his touch, feel the pressure when he made Jonathan come while still deep inside him. “As you wish,” he said unsteadily, twisting his fingers with infinite gentleness until they brushed the spot that made Jonathan cry out again. Devon’s other hand found Jonathan’s cock, curling around it, pulling with firm strokes over the wax-embellished length.
Kit shuddered in the hallway, his cock reacting to the desperation in Jonathan’s voice even as his mind recoiled at the sight of Devon’s arm buried in Jonathan’s arse. He couldn’t reconcile the two, and he had no idea how to even try.
When Jonathan had thought about this night before finding the courage to make his request, he’d dreamed of coming with Devon deep inside him. He’d tried not to feel disappointed when Devon had made him come before they started, grateful that Devon had agreed to indulge his dark fascination at all. He certainly didn’t expect to be able to come a second time in such quick succession, but Devon’s hand on his cock, his hot breath against his ear, and most of all the stir of almost unbearable fullness inside him, of Devon touching him, loving him with such intimacy, set a wave of liquid heat roiling in Jonathan’s core, spreading outward with each minute twist of Devon’s fingers. The sense of connection was so strong he could feel his pulse beating in time with Devon’s as the rapture bubbled through him and poured from him, his roughened voice calling Devon’s name as he came.
Devon’s cock twitched hard when Jonathan clenched around him, the rippling contraction of muscle seeming strong enough to bruise his wrist. He shunted his other hand through the hot splash of come over Jonathan’s shaft, easing him through the aftershocks of his climax, his own need to come muted at the wave of love and pride he felt for Jonathan in this moment.
When Jonathan slumped in sated exhaustion, Devon began to work his hand free, nearly as slowly as he’d worked it in. They were both breathing raggedly when Devon finally slid out and wiped the lube from his hand on the bathroom towel. Jonathan rolled onto his side, wincing at the emptiness as much as the pain, then pulled Devon between his legs and into a heated kiss. Only when Jonathan worked a hand between their bodies to grasp Devon’s cock did Devon draw back from the embrace, turning his head to look over his shoulder at the shadowed doorway.
“Kit?” he called. “Maybe you’d like to join us now?”
Chapter 13: Bottoming Out
KIT FROZE, caught like a deer in headlights, when Devon called his name. His first instinct was to recoil, to deny that he’d been watching them—spying on them. He didn’t figure that would pass muster, though, so he stepped into the bedroom, determined to brazen out their reactions. “I didn’t want to interrupt,” he said, shoulders hunched defensively.
“Kit?” Jonathan’s gut clenched, his cheeks heating as he stared at their lover, his feelings in conflict. A part of him had wished Kit was with them, even at the height of his connection with Devon, but the thought that Kit had seen—or worse, heard—things Jonathan knew would disturb him was making his stomach roil. “How long have you been here?”
Kit paused to consider the question. He hadn’t noticed the time, nor, he imagined, had his lovers. “I saw Devon get the paintbrush,” he said finally, figuring that would give them an idea when he had arrived.
“And you didn’t see fit to announce your presence?” Devon demanded, his voice sharp. He’d been aware of Kit watching from the shadows since just after the first time he’d brought Jonathan to climax. It didn’t bother him that Kit had watched them—though he suspected Jonathan didn’t feel the same—but that Kit hadn’t respected them enough to let them know he was there angered him. “We’re not a bloody peep show for you to get your rocks off watching.”
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“I didn’t see anything to get my rocks off with!” Kit retorted sharply, forgetting how hot and bothered he had been watching Devon come over Jonathan’s arse or hearing the desperation in Jonathan’s voice when he pleaded with Devon to make love to him. He’d seen enough since then to kill all sense of his arousal. “As for not announcing my presence, I was obviously superfluous, and I already told you I didn’t want to interrupt. I was trying to be courteous enough to let you finish.”
“Courteous would have been to leave, if you weren’t interested in joining us,” Devon rejoined harshly.
“Devon, Kit, please,” Jonathan interjected, trying to stave off the argument both men seemed eager to engage in. “I thought you were planning to spend all weekend in London,” he said to Kit, hoping to move the discussion to a less dangerous subject, at least until everyone’s tempers had a chance to cool. He might as well have saved his breath, for all the attention either of the two paid to his words.
“And leave you to do God only knows what to Jonathan?” Kit spat back. “At least if I was watching, I could make sure you didn’t hurt him.”
“Wait a minute,” Jonathan objected, his own voice rising, shocked that Kit would make such an accusation after the weeks they’d spent rebuilding Devon’s self-confidence. “Devon didn’t do a damn thing I didn’t ask him to do!”
“Don’t bother defending me, Jon,” Devon muttered, turning a frigid stare on Kit. “Obviously, all those talks about how much you both trust me were just pretty lies to make me feel better, at least as far as Kit here is concerned.”
“Yeah, like all your talk about not hurting us the way Robert hurt you was any more honest.” Kit glared back. “God, Jonathan, he had his fist up your arse. You can’t tell me that felt good. You just can’t!”
“It felt fucking incredible!” Jonathan shouted. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to do this while you were around—I knew you wouldn’t be able to understand. Or are you jealous?” he added, regretting the ugly words as soon as he spoke them but unable—unwilling—to call them back. “That we could enjoy something you weren’t involved in?”
“Not of that,” Kit ground out. “I’ll just leave you to your perversions then, why don’t I?”
“Stop!” Devon roared in a tone neither of his partners had ever heard him use before—and neither could disobey. Jonathan bit back the angry rejoinder he’d been about to make about Kit’s anal beads and took a deep breath, trying to get his rampaging emotions under control. Sinking back onto the bed, he lowered his head and stared at his clenched hands, wondering how everything had gone so wrong so quickly.
“You don’t have to approve of what Jonathan and I do, but you have absolutely no right to insult us for what we enjoy either,” Devon told Kit, fixing him with an icy stare. “If you can’t accept that, then maybe you should leave. But if you do, don’t expect to come back.”
“Devon—” Jonathan protested, the words drying up in his throat when Devon turned to look at him. He’d been prepared for the same angry glare Kit had received, but he could see the pain in Devon’s eyes, along with an unspoken plea not to interfere. Jonathan swallowed hard and decided he needed to trust Devon a little bit longer.
“I…,” Kit started, tears welling in his eyes as he looked from one man to the other, his sense of not belonging rushing back at him. “I’m sorry,” he said finally, not completely sure what he was apologizing for. “I love you both, but I obviously don’t belong here. I thought I could. I thought I could be adventurous enough for you, but you need things I can’t give you. I’ll just get my things and….”
“Dammit, no!” Jonathan jumped to his feet, throwing an apologetic glance over his shoulder at Devon. There had to be some way to keep this from tearing the three of them apart. “Kit, don’t. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gone behind your back like this—the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you.”
“But it’s all right for Kit to hurt you by calling you perverted?” Devon growled.
“I’m sorry,” Kit said again. “I shouldn’t have said that. You’re right, Devon. I shouldn’t have insulted either of you that way. I’m not comfortable with what you did, and I’m obviously the odd man out on that, but that doesn’t give me the right to criticize either of you for it. I’ll just leave you to it. You’ll both be happier without me holding you back.”
“Do you really believe that?” Devon asked in a quieter voice. His heart was as torn as Jonathan’s at the sudden rift between the three of them, but it had laid bare what were obviously deeply felt fears. If Devon had learned anything in the past months, it was that fears had to be confronted or they would consume you from the inside out. “If you really can’t accept what you saw, that’s one thing, but don’t try to tell yourself it’s because we want you to leave. If you go, it will be your choice, not ours.”
“Of course I don’t want to go!” Kit exclaimed. “I love you, but….” He paused, not quite sure how to put his feelings into words. “Don’t you see? You knew I couldn’t be here for what you wanted today. I heard you. You need things I can’t give you, and it’s not fair to either of you. How long will it be before you start resenting me? Or before you start finding excuses to do things without me because I can’t hurt you the way you need or take pain the way Jonathan can?”
“Yes, there are things I can give Jonathan you can’t,” Devon agreed. “There are things you can give him that I can’t too. Don’t you think I’ve known that from the beginning? We wouldn’t have had to seduce him together if either of us alone was everything he wants. And not to give him a swelled head, Jonathan’s not everything I need, either.” For the first time since the argument began, Devon looked uncomfortable—anger was easier for him to express than tenderness. “I don’t want you to go, Kit. I—love you too, even when you make me mad enough to chew nails.”
“When you’re both done disposing of me as if I wasn’t here, do I get a say in any of this?” Jonathan interrupted, feeling as if an anvil had been lifted from his chest now that they weren’t screaming at one another. The threat of losing either of his lovers was a physical pain in his gut, worse than anything Devon’s penetration had made him feel, and he realized he’d do anything to keep the three of them from breaking apart. “I love you both, and I don’t want to lose either of you. The two of you coming into my life is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m not letting either of you go without fighting for you—for us.”
“I guess I… overreacted,” Kit said slowly, his gaze moving back and forth between the two men. He hesitated for a moment before looking back at Devon. “You really need something only I can give you?”
Shrugging uncomfortably, Devon rubbed his hand through his hair, wishing for the hundredth time that he had Jonathan’s way with words. “Do you have any idea how it feels to know that someone like you—young, bloody gorgeous—wants an old man like me or Jon?” Ignoring Jonathan’s relieved admonition to speak for himself about being old, Devon continued, “Jon and I, we’re a lot alike, but you have so much energy, so much excitement—no matter how worn out I am at the end of filming, I just have to look at you and my exhaustion disappears. Knowing I have you and Jonathan to love when we get home, wherever that winds up being, makes me feel like the luckiest bastard on earth.”
“I think I’m the lucky one,” Kit disagreed. “I know I overreacted, but it did something to me to see you together, to see you sharing something I couldn’t be a part of. And to know that you’d already made that decision for me made it even worse. I want so much to be with you both, to be what you need, and I wasn’t today, even before I acted like such a little shit.”
“But I knew you wouldn’t be comfortable with it, Kit,” Jonathan said, though he still felt guilty even as he tried to explain. “The last thing I wanted to do was make you feel like you had to go along with something you don’t enjoy just because I wanted it.”
Kit nodded. He did understand, but…. “Isn’t that my choice to make, th
ough? I know I’m just a kid, but I can make up my own mind. I don’t need protecting. It makes me feel like, well, like I did earlier, like I don’t belong here.”
“I’m sorry, Kit,” Jonathan said, taking his hand and, when it wasn’t pulled away, drawing him into a full-body embrace. “You’re right, I shouldn’t assume I know how you’re going to react. From now on I’ll try to be more honest about what I want and let you make up your own mind whether you want to join in.” He bent his head to kiss Kit gently, offering silent thanks that he hadn’t thrown this away. “Just know how much I love you, and whether you decide to share in some of the rougher stuff or not will never change that.”
“What he said,” Devon murmured, moving behind Kit to wrap him in his arms, cocooning him between the two of them. “You belong right here, with both of us—don’t ever let us make you feel otherwise.”
Kit leaned back against Devon, curling his fingers tightly around Jonathan’s hand. “I’m sorry I brought Robert up or implied that you were anything like him,” he apologized softly. “I don’t mean to be a snotty-nosed brat. It just seems to happen sometimes. Usually at the worst possible times. My mum despaired of breaking me of the habit; her punishments never quite seemed to do the trick.”
Not knowing whether to smack Kit or kiss him in relief, Devon did both, pressing his lips to the smooth skin behind Kit’s ear and at the same time giving him a playful whack on his arse. “Maybe I should have a go at it, then.”
“You think you can outdo my mum?” Kit asked laughingly, leaning into the kiss and wriggling his bum at Devon. “Give it your best shot, old man.”
“Be careful what you ask for, brat,” Devon countered, catching Kit’s hips and holding them still. Even that teasing enticement was starting to reawaken his arousal. “You just got through telling us to let you make your own choices.”
“What do you think I’m trying to do?” Kit retorted. The argument had cleared the air, restoring his usual cockiness and giving him the confidence to ask, however obliquely, for something that had been playing around the edges of his mind for some time now. “I have a safeword if I need it,” he added more seriously, wanting Devon to understand that he had thought about this, much as Jonathan had thought about the fisting.
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