No Limits

by Nicki Bennett

  Giving thanks for the resilience of youth, Devon grinned. “That would hardly be fair to Jonathan,” he chided, stealing another kiss, “but hold that thought.” Moving to the other side of the bed, he warmed another handful of lotion and rubbed his palms together to coat them both before applying the soothing balm to Jonathan’s skin.

  The arousal that had never fully subsided flared to renewed life at Devon’s touch. The lotion’s initial sting quickly eased into a cooling numbness, but each repeated brush of Devon’s palms over Jonathan’s skin set it on fire again. Jonathan stirred against the bedding, his cock looking for any friction to sate it, but rutting to climax against the mattress wouldn’t satisfy the hunger that had been gnawing at him all night. A deep groan worked its way from his throat as Devon’s fingers brushed across his crease, and he shuddered, turning his head to meet his eyes.

  “Devon,” Jonathan pleaded, pushing up to grasp his wrist. “Don’t leave us like this.” He paused, struggling for a way to admit what he needed—Devon’s cock, filling him the same way his fist had—without hurting Kit by making him feel excluded again. He’d promised to be more honest about what he wanted, though, and he needed to restore his connection with Kit just as much as he wanted Devon. “I want us to make love—all three of us.” Turning to Kit, he cradled his head in his hands, nipping at his lips. “I want to bury myself inside you, make us one until you’ll never doubt how much I want you, love you.” He reached back for Devon, one hand still holding Kit, linking the three of them together. “And I really, really need to feel you inside me, babe.”

  “Fuck, yeah,” Kit hissed, the thought of being connected to his lovers that way bringing him to full hardness. He rolled onto his back and spread his legs eagerly.

  As much as Devon longed to take Jonathan up on what he was offering—the sudden surge of his cock was proof enough of how much his body agreed with the hunger in Jonathan’s words—he’d have to be the voice of reason. A Dom’s highest responsibility was to ensure his subs’ welfare, even when his own body was screaming for relief. “I’m sure I’m going to come off as the bad guy here, but I don’t think that’s a good idea just now, Jon,” he said. “I think you’ve had enough for tonight.”

  In a less emotionally charged moment, Jonathan probably would have recognized the good sense in Devon’s words, but with both body and spirit yearning for proof that they’d repaired the rift between the three of them, he wasn’t about to back down that easily. “Shouldn’t that be my decision to make, Devon? I know what I can take, and I want you—both of you.”

  Recognizing words were getting him nowhere, Devon ran his hand down the cleft between Jonathan’s cheeks, territory he had consciously avoided since cleaning there after the fisting. Regretting the need to inflict even this small bit of unwelcome pain, he let the tip of one finger, still coated with lotion, breach the muscular opening.

  The sudden hiss of Jonathan’s inhalation proved his point. Sliding his finger out quickly, Devon bent to drop a soothing kiss on Jonathan’s hip and then his lips. “Sorry, love. Believe me, I wish I wasn’t right,” he apologized. “You’ll be less sensitive in a day or two, and then I promise I’ll fuck you as hard as you like. In the meantime, we should probably see about getting the rest of this wax off of you. How does a shower—all three of us—sound instead?”

  Chapter 15: Close Shave

  “AS LONG as it’s all three of us,” Jonathan agreed, trying to keep his disappointment at being too sore to make love out of his voice. He didn’t want Devon to feel responsible for giving Jonathan what he’d asked for or reinforce that they’d excluded Kit earlier. “It will feel good to get rid of this wax—it pulls in all the wrong places.”

  “I think a shower sounds wonderful,” Kit agreed.

  “Let’s go, then,” Devon said, extending a hand to each of his lovers and helping them to their feet. He kept their hands clasped as he led the way to the bathroom, a wordless expression of the connection between them that had frayed but not broken. “Going to be a mite cramped,” he muttered as he snapped on the light and realized how small his loo really was.

  “As long as all three of us fit in the shower.” Jonathan was already bending over to turn on the water, his reddened backside on unconscious display.

  “It’s not like we have any personal space left,” Kit commented, stepping up directly behind Jonathan and pulling Devon with him. “It’ll just give us a better excuse to touch each other.”

  “As if you ever need an excuse.” Devon reached around Jonathan to turn the water a smidge warmer and snagged the bar of soap and washcloth from their recessed holder. “Now let’s see what we can do about this masterpiece of modern art.”

  The warm water and Devon’s hand working the cloth felt wonderful to Jonathan’s taxed muscles, but neither did much to remove the congealed runnels of purple wax. “I didn’t realize you were marking me for life, babe. I’m not sure Niall’s as much of an art aficionado as you are.”

  “The costume’ll hide most of it,” Devon teased, leaning in to still Jonathan’s protest with a kiss.

  Wanting to help, Kit slid a chipped nail beneath one of the rivulets, peeling it away from Jonathan’s skin and pulling a tuft of hair with it.

  “Ow! Fuck, Kit, that hurts!” Jonathan flinched away, bumping against Devon in the restricted space of the shower cubicle.

  “Sorry,” Kit said, pulling his hand away automatically before he paused and said, “You weren’t complaining that it hurt when Devon was putting it on.”

  “That was different,” Jonathan answered, hesitating when he realized how important it was for Kit to recognize why it was different. “I’m not a masochist, Kit-Kat,” he continued, sliding a hand around the younger man’s wet torso to hold him close. “I’m not into random pain for its own sake. During a scene, when I’m prepared for it, expecting it”—he glanced at Devon, his free hand gripping his shoulder—“it can be incredibly arousing.”

  “You felt some o’ that when I was spanking this lovely bum,” Devon added with a playful smack. “But I don’t think you’d want me to feel free to thump you that way anytime I liked.”

  “No, I suppose not,” Kit agreed slowly, trying to work his mind around a distinction he wouldn’t have imagined existed a few months ago. “So how are we going to get this off you without it hurting in a nonpleasurable way? It’s all tangled up with your chest hair, not to mention all around your cock and bollocks.”

  “We’ll have to shave him,” Devon decided.

  “What?” Jonathan yelped, his voice rising in surprise.

  “Don’t be such a nancy. I know you’ve shaved for roles before.”

  “My chest, yeah, but never my crotch!”

  “You should’ve thought about that before you let Devon use you as a human canvas,” Kit teased, running his hand over Jonathan’s abdomen. “You’re going to be smooth as a baby’s butt. On second thought, I think I’m glad you didn’t consider the repercussions first.”

  “See to it he doesn’t try to escape while I get my razor,” Devon directed, stepping out of the curtained enclosure to snap on a fresh blade and open the cabinet to extract a full can of shaving gel. He glanced longingly at the container of waterproof lube he’d picked up on his last shopping trip but turned back to the shower without it. Jonathan was still too sore, and it would hardly be right to make him watch as Devon and Kit went at it, much as they all might want to.

  As Devon disappeared out of the shower, Kit playfully pinned Jonathan against the wall, kissing him torridly. “You’re not going to try to escape, are you?” he asked huskily when he lifted his head. It felt so good—so right—to tease this way, the doubts and fears of the past hours melting away with the hot water and the press of Jonathan’s naked body against his own. Now it only remained for Devon to return and complete them for everything to be balanced again.

  Gladly ceding control of the kiss, Jonathan relaxed against the cool tiles, Kit’s body sending sparks of arousal dancin
g up his skin everywhere their bodies touched. Sliding his arms up Kit’s slick back, he drew him closer, increasing the contact and the desire until his head was reeling when Kit finally broke the kiss. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he gasped when the question finally penetrated his lust-clouded brain. “Everything I want is right here,” he added with a smile when Devon stepped back into the shower.

  Kit turned his head to smile at Devon too, and the emotion in both expressions made Devon’s heart swell until for a moment it felt as if it would choke him. He dropped his head instinctively, hiding his reaction, before he realized what he was doing and lifted it again, meeting his lovers’ gazes with eyes damp with tears. “Don’t know what I did to deserve the two of you,” he said hoarsely, wrapping himself against Kit’s back and resting his hands on Jonathan’s shoulders, “but I’ll be damned if I’ll let us bollox it up again.”

  Jonathan stretched an arm to rest on Devon’s hip and pressed forward over Kit’s shoulder until he could reach his lips. “We have to be honest with each other,” he agreed. “No more secrets, and tell each other what we want.” He glanced at Devon ruefully. “Even when sometimes the answer has to be no.”

  Kit wriggled a little, caught between the two hard bodies of his lovers, the movement rubbing his arse provocatively against Devon’s groin even as his cock bumped against Jonathan’s. He’d been a bloody fool to do anything that might have jeopardized this. “And think before we speak,” he added, blushing at the thought of the insults that had come out of his mouth as a result of his fear. “At least, I have to think before I speak,” he amended, knowing he’d started the shouting match earlier. He looked at Jonathan and then back at Devon. “I really am sorry for what I said. It was fear talking, not my heart. You know that, right?”

  “I know,” Jonathan said softly, his voice rasping at the provocation of Kit’s body hardening against him. “I’m sorry too.”

  “We all said things we wish we could unsay.” Devon’s voice deepened, not quite to his Dom cadence, but enough to underscore his seriousness. “I hereby declare the three of us unilaterally forgiven for all affronts, real or imagined.” He kissed Kit gently, tangling a hand into Jonathan’s wet hair to draw him into the three-way kiss. They were all breathing more rapidly when their lips finally separated. “No more looking backward. Only ahead.”

  “And the first step ahead is getting rid of this wax.” Kit grinned, snagging the shaving cream out of Devon’s hand and squirting it liberally over Jonathan’s chest.

  Jonathan jumped at the contrast of the cold gel on his warm skin. “You could have warned me first!”

  “Finesse, lad. Just like lube, it helps to warm it first,” Devon chided, his smile taking any sting from the words. “Now spread it out and then let me get to work on him.”

  Kit shook his head firmly as he worked the gel into a thick lather. “You got to put it on him. I get to take it off.”

  Laughing at Kit’s territorial attitude, Devon started to whistle the theme from The Stripper, chuckling so much he could hardly get the notes out. “Take it off,” he said with a grin, “take it all off.”

  Jonathan’s laughter joined Devon’s, echoing in the tiny enclosure. “Christ, Devon, Kit’s probably not even old enough to remember that commercial.”

  “Be careful,” Kit warned, pulling the razor from Devon’s lax grasp. “I’m the one holding the razor. You don’t want to end up bald.” He turned over his shoulder and looked at Devon. “And I’ll shave you, too, if you keep that up.”

  “You have to leave at least the beard, or Niall will kill us,” Devon admonished. “In fact, you’d better leave a bit at the top, in case he wants a close-up of our king’s manly chest. He’s going to be filming scenes with Blythe next week.”

  “Hmmph,” Kit grunted. “Camelot would be a much happier place if he never married Guinevere and just stuck with his knights.”

  “Much as I agree with you, even Niall can only stretch the canon material so far,” Devon countered. “I don’t think television is ready for an Arthurian ménage à trois.”

  Chuckling, Jonathan nudged Kit to continue, shivering at the careful drag of the razor over his skin. “Let’s get on with it, then. I haven’t shaved my chest since I read for the lead in Wong Foo.”

  Kit’s grin split his face again. “And what a lovely woman you would’ve made too,” he teased, sliding the razor carefully over Jonathan’s skin, removing wax and hair in steady stripes, carefully avoiding the sensitive peaks of his nipples. When he was done, he dispensed more gel into his hand, warming it carefully this time, with a smirk over his shoulder to Devon to show that he was teachable. Dropping to his knees, he spread it carefully around the base of Jonathan’s cock. “Now comes the fun part.”

  “Bet Patrick Swayze never put up with this,” Jonathan complained, though his cock belied his grumbling by stiffening even further at the intimate caress.

  “Just as well you were too young to get the part,” Devon tossed in. “Given the way you go all Method to get into character, I shudder to think what you’d do to prepare for the role.”

  “Let somebody fuck him so he’d know what it felt like to be on the receiving end?” Kit suggested as he started shaving just below Jonathan’s navel, working his way lower. “Oh, wait… he’s done that.”

  “Not then I hadn’t,” Jonathan reminded him, the approaching razor and the steadying touch of Kit’s hand making his voice waver. “Not sure I’m that dedicated to my craft.” His voice softened as it lost its teasing tone. “I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone but the two of you.”

  “I’m not in any big hurry to share either,” Kit admitted, working the razor carefully around the base of Jonathan’s cock, “but I wouldn’t say no to showing you off a little.”

  An idea niggled in the back of Devon’s mind, but he pushed it aside, not wanting to focus on anything but the enticing tableau playing out in front of him. “Mind the wax, it’s a bit heavy there,” he cautioned, the melted tracks cracking and falling away in pieces as Jonathan’s cock continued to thicken under Kit’s attentions.

  “Depends what you mean by ‘showing off,’” Jonathan countered, the words slurring into a groan when Kit lifted his cock out of the way and began to draw the blade slowly over his balls. “Fuck, Kit, that feels too good.”

  Kit smiled, pulling the razor away for a moment to lick the tip of Jonathan’s cock. “I told you before, I enjoy being watched,” he said with a shrug as he returned to his task. When he’d finished, he ran his hands down Jonathan’s thighs. “Did you get any wax on your legs?”

  “Mmmnn,” Jonathan purred, only the bits of shaving cream that still clung to him keeping him from pulling Kit’s head back to his cock. “Don’t think so.”

  “Turn round and let him finish your backside, Jon,” Devon instructed, his hand going to his own cock to stroke it slowly. Jonathan groaned in protest, and Devon nudged his shoulder with his free hand. “Sooner you’re done, the sooner we can get rid of sharp objects and get down to business.”

  Kit glanced back at Devon after he’d cleaned the patterns of wax from Jonathan’s back. “I might need a little help here,” he told Devon, not wanting him to feel excluded the way Kit had earlier in the day. “I can’t hold him open and shave him at the same time.”

  “Thought you’d never ask.” Devon grinned, moving closer and sinking to his knees while Jonathan groaned again at the thought of both his lovers’ hands on him. He twisted awkwardly in the cramped space, hissing as his cock slapped against the still-cool shower wall.

  “The two of you better hurry or I’m going—fuck!” He broke off when Devon spread a coating of foam over his still-sensitive rear, holding the cheeks spread apart.

  “No fucking for you tonight,” Kit joked as he swiped the razor over the lathered globes, avoiding the sensitive crease, a few more careful strokes removing the last of the wax and foam. Pushing to his feet, he kissed the nape of Jonathan’s neck before biting down on the curve of
his shoulder, not hard enough to break the skin, but definitely enough for Jonathan to feel it. “If you’re good, though, maybe we’ll let you fuck one of us.”

  “No fucking for any of us tonight, I think,” Devon offered, still crouching at Jonathan’s feet. “I tanned both your backsides fair enough that you should still be feeling it.” He winked up at Kit, not wanting to single out Jonathan’s greater discomfort from their earlier activity. “Surely we’re creative enough to find another way to reward our king.” Cocking his head to silently ask for a bit more space, Devon leaned in and ran his tongue very gently up Jonathan’s crease, so lightly it was barely more than his breath soothing the swollen skin.

  A deep moan sounded even louder in the bathroom’s acoustics, and Jonathan’s hands scrabbled at the slick tile walls. “Oh God, Devon, please don’t stop, that’s so—oh God, babe—” He broke off to draw a shuddering breath, pushing back into the bliss of Devon’s mouth.

  Wanting to be involved too, Kit dropped back to his knees and pushed on Jonathan’s side. “Let me in,” he requested, sliding between Jonathan’s hips and the wall. When Jonathan shifted, Kit captured the bobbing cock with his lips, sucking the tip gently before sliding along the thick shaft to take the full length into his mouth.

  Jonathan cried something inarticulate when Kit’s mouth closed around him. Shaving had left him bare and vulnerable, exposing nerve endings that fired with sensations he’d never felt before, Kit’s lips and Devon’s tongue and someone’s hand squeezing his balls all feeling wholly new and wonderful. He was floating—there was no way he could stay on the ground feeling this much pleasure—and he grasped to anchor himself with a hand on Kit’s shoulder, the other on Devon’s, to keep himself from drifting away completely. Little sounds were escaping him, raw sounds, but he couldn’t help it when Devon’s tongue was laving him, soothing away the last lingering pain, and Kit was alternating licking and sucking, and he was so close and he loved them both so much….