He petted her there and promised himself he’d get a good long look another time.
She growled at him. “Please, Rhian.”
“So eager.” He chuckled, delighted by her demands.
Her relentless hand paused on his dick and she raised one eyebrow.
His laughter died and his plea caught in his throat. He wasn’t surprised she fought dirty. He was delighted.
He slid the pad of one finger lower, into slick, hot, swollen folds. She groaned and twitched against him. A needy sob caught in her throat when he bumped over her clit. He didn’t stop, pushing farther until he sank his finger into her to the hilt.
“Rhian…”
He liked how she said his name, held his gaze. She was here. With him. There was no confusion. No one else. They both loved Garrick, but this, tonight, was purely between them.
She arched above him, impaling herself, seeking more. He flicked his thumb across her clit and she did it again, this time pumping her hand along his shaft.
To say they fell into a rhythm would be generous. Guided entirely by the thrash of her body against his hand, they were enslaved to the heaving need, hips and hands working furiously against one another.
He was rapidly losing the ability to reason out even the simplest things. He slammed his eyes shut, trying to block out at least one sense’s stimulation. On the next withdrawal, he added another finger, thrusting harder, faster, urging her toward the peak. His own climax was bearing down on him with embarrassing speed.
She whimpered with pleasure, gasping his name again. It didn’t help. At all.
The friction from her hand turned hot, but like the search for condoms, he couldn’t abide the idea of stopping to find lube. He flinched at the dry drag of skin against skin, but it wouldn’t stop him from coming. And soon. His cock seeped pre-come and Savannah paused to rub her palm over his crown, nerve endings dancing, almost high with relief. Still, the next pump of her fist burned.
And then her hand was gone.
“No,” he gasped.
Her grin lit up her face. She slipped her hand over his, buried between her legs. Her thumb joined his on her clit. His mouth fell open when one thin finger slid into her body, captured in her tight channel beside his.
She fisted a hand in his hair. “Kiss me.”
His mouth locked onto hers. Their hands moved in counterpoint to the kick of her hips. Their thumbs battered her clit. He swallowed the sounds forced up out of her chest, his own groans, as their hands fucked her, drenched in the flood of her arousal.
His body throbbed, his cock bouncing off his belly, her thighs. He rolled his hips, trying to find some friction, some goddamn relief. He could have taken himself in hand, but he wouldn’t pull his hand from her hair, holding them close as they made out like a couple of horny teenagers, all hands and mouths and rapidly diminishing finesse.
At least, he was losing all his finesse. Savannah didn’t miss a beat when she drew her hand away from her body. He congratulated himself on some semblance of coordination when he immediately replaced her departing finger with his own, plunging deep.
He relished her groan against his lips, sure she would tumble over the edge any moment. Then her cream-drenched fingers wrapped around his cock and pumped hard and fast.
He gasped into their kiss, her name little more than a whisper as he sucked in a breath and thrust his cock into her grasp. Her hand tightened in his hair, her green gaze locked on his face.
That was it.
His orgasm exploded from him, striping his chest with come, a howl torn from his throat. She arched above him, forced her pussy down on his hand, and cried out his name. Her fingers convulsed around his cock in time with each ripple in her tight sheath, tugging another racking shudder up from his balls.
Eventually, Savannah collapsed on top of him, her face buried against his neck. She trembled, and he wrapped his arms around her back. He hadn’t begun to catch his breath, but already bone-deep tranquility settled over him. His brain hazy, he enjoying the aftershocks rippling through the placid calm. How could he be this content when he was more certain than ever that he’d never find level ground again?
Savannah and Garrick had completely fucked him up.
The lull of warm skin and the long day dragged at him. His panic attack earlier had drained his reserve until only a mere thread of worry remained, paltry against the waves of contentment crashing over him.
Savannah’s fingers thread through his hair and it soothed him further. He loved her touch. Her endless gentle caresses.
His eyes closed, his breath evened out, and he slipped into sleep.
Chapter Twenty Four
Savannah woke at dawn with Rhian curled around her back, his face buried in her hair. His heavy arm and steady heartbeat told her he was still asleep. Well, at least his big brain was. His little brain was up and ready to tackle the day, judging by the pokes to her bottom.
She and Rhian had fallen asleep early the night before—and without dinner. She’d considered rousing him to eat something, to make love again, but he’d looked so peaceful sleeping. He hadn’t stirred when she got out of bed to get a washcloth and cleaned them both up.
She’d emailed the office to say she was working from home today, then poked and prodded Rhian until they were under the covers. He’d rolled toward her, and she’d curled against his chest and promptly fallen back to sleep.
She hadn’t gone to bed before eight o’clock since she was about seven years old. She was well-rested, but also starving.
And horny.
The question was, which need was more pressing? Feed them? Or cement the change to their relationship in the most obvious and intimate way?
He had no clue of her intentions for the three of them. And once he did, he was probably going to balk. She couldn’t blame him. Any sane person would question whether a permanent threesome could work. She’d had doubts, even while staring at the contented faces of Philip, Mark, and Grace.
But then, she hadn’t fallen in love with Rhian yet.
She had a strong suspicion that telling Rhian she loved him would put him in a panic. He wasn’t ready. Their emotional bond was strong and growing every day, but for him it probably wasn’t love—not yet—and even if it was, he might not be able to admit it.
Or he might never fall in love with her. She’d end up brokenhearted, and in the process, have complicated matters with Garrick irreparably.
Yeah, to hell with breakfast. She needed to touch him, to reassure herself that he was there. With her. That the risk was worth it. He’d only agreed to stay for “a while”. She wouldn’t waste a minute of it. If he woke with doubts, she’d erase them any way she could.
She wriggled back until they were nestled together from shoulder to knee.
His warm hand caressed her belly.
He was awake. And he hadn’t leaped from the bed and run screaming. That was something, right?
“Good morning,” she murmured.
“Good morning.” His rough voice sent shivers down her spine.
“Sleep well?”
He hummed, burrowing his face into her hair until his lips pressed to the back of her neck. She almost burst with happiness. He was cuddling. And his morning wood was getting woodier by the second.
She smiled and ran her fingers over his arm, along his hip. “I was thinking last night. After you passed out on me.”
His laughter stirred her hair and tickled her nape. “Sorry about that.”
“Totally understandable. I tired you out.”
She felt his smile against her neck. “Yeah, you did.”
God, the brush of his lips and the rumble of his voice sent electric shocks all the way to her fingertips and toes.
“Anyway,” she said, struggling to stay on point, “I wanted to talk to you about something. About us.”
As soon she said it, she regretted her choice of words. Her warm, cuddly lover went as stiff as a board—and not in a good way. She grabbed his hand
and held it to her stomach.
“What about us?” he asked in a perfect monotone.
She gave herself a stern lecture to be patient. She’d expected this. And while she’d like to talk to him about the emotional aspects of their relationship, she wasn’t foolish enough to go there. Yet. This was about something far more practical.
“We don’t have to use condoms.”
He stopped breathing, his hand stilled. Crap. Now she’d freaked him out. She’d hoped the sex, at least, wasn’t going to be scary for him. For crying out loud, he had sex with Garrick. She was downright subtle compared to him.
“We don’t?” he asked, his voice several notes higher than it had been a minute ago.
“Well, let me ask you something?”
“Okay,” he said slowly.
“Have you been with anyone besides Garrick in the past six months?”
Rhian’s hand stroked across her belly and the tight muscles along her back eased. Maybe he could deal with this after all. She was usually good at reading people, but he was a challenge. In hindsight, she realized she should have had this conversation facing the damn man.
“No. A little more than six months ago there was one woman. One time. And others before her, here and there. But I used protection. Always. And Garrick probably told you I only had limited experiences with men in high school. None since.”
She nodded and refused to let her imagination wonder about the details. She could spend hours listening to those experiences, but now wasn’t the time. She focused on the practicalities and tried not to squirm. “Okay, then. I’m on the pill, and I saw your blood test results in Moncton, and again when I got to Boston. Garrick and I have also been tested. So, you know, if you want to skip the condoms, we can.”
“Uh…”
“And not just you and I, obviously. You and Garrick can go raw, too.”
He liked that idea. A lot. She wriggled against his erection and he gasped.
“Okay,” he managed to choke out.
She smiled. “Great.”
He shifted behind her, more of a twitch, and his shaft slipped along her wet, swelling folds. She rolled her hips against him, seeking more. His grip tightened, and he bit the back of her neck.
God, he already knew how to press her buttons. “Now?” she groaned.
“What?”
“Maybe you could not use a condom now?”
He shoved her down onto his thighs, his cock lodged harder against her pussy. “God, yes.”
She looked back and he caught her mouth in a long, frantic kiss, his moan humming against her lips. They escalated from sleepy arousal to blazing desire in the space of a heartbeat.
His fingers dove between her legs and circled her clit. She danced in response, throwing her leg back over his, opening herself up as two fingers sank deep. Growing pleasure and mounting need forced her to cry out his name.
Of course she’d wondered what kind of lover Rhian would be. She’d pictured him with Garrick, heard the details, but she hadn’t known. Would never have guessed he would be so forceful. Could so quickly and perfectly take charge.
Garrick was fearless and demanding, sometimes overwhelming. She could imagine any partner of his being swept along in the wake of his confidence and authority. Rhian, though, was a quieter, gentler man. And yet, no less overwhelming. More than capable of sweeping her along.
As if to prove her point, he rolled and smashed her face down on the mattress.
Oh fuck, yes!
He laughed and she realized she’d shouted that out loud.
“Sorry, I’m noisy,” she mumbled, her cheeks heating. She’d been spoiled by Garrick, but maybe with Rhian she should dial it back. Garrick would be furious with her for even thinking it, but he wasn’t realistic about these things.
Rhian nibbled her neck and shoulder and ground his cock into the valley of her ass. “I bet Garrick doesn’t mind,” he growled.
His teeth tortured the perfect spot high on her neck and she bowed her head, encouraging him. “No,” she said into the mattress, “he loves it.”
He hummed something that sounded like agreement. “I do, too. I want to hear you.”
Joy surged. His words set her free. She canted her hips up against him and he rocked forward, his shaft running along the sensitive skin and tight muscles surrounding her anus.
“God, Rhian. I need you.”
He slid against her again and sucked on her neck. She didn’t hold anything back, yelling about the wonderful things he did to her.
And then he was gone. “No, please—”
Her voice strangled in her throat when he lifted her ass in the air like she weighed nothing. Her knees tried to plant on the bed, but he spread her thighs wide with his, leaving her suspended. Her hands scrabbled for purchase on the fitted sheet.
She was putty in his hands. A puddle of need. His strength. The way he moved her however he wished. Held her above the bed. Jesus, she’d never given any thought to what it might mean to have such a physically powerful lover.
Now she’d never stop thinking about it.
The plump head of his cock brushed against her clit, across the entrance to her body, and she whimpered, begging for more. He let her hover there, enthralled by anticipation and the utter loss of control. She wanted to shove herself back, impale herself on his heavy shaft, but couldn’t.
“Please, Rhian.”
She jerked with surprise when his lips landed on the small of her back. His tongue dipped into the divots to each side of her spine at the top of her ass. His morning beard ticked her skin.
“You’re beautiful,” he rumbled.
His tender words surprised and delighted her. She wanted to say so many things in return, all of which were lost when his cock slid against her opening. The head nudged forward.
She groaned, glorying in the stretch. In the beauty of the connection.
He lifted her higher, and, with a powerful thrust, filled her to the hilt. The dull thump of his pelvis striking her ass echoed beneath her howl of pleasure.
“Good?” he asked, his hoarse voice laced with amusement. His hips didn’t stop moving, grinding against her.
“Good?” she burbled. “It’s fucking amazing.”
He laughed. “Oh, we’re going to get to the fucking amazing part next, I promise.”
She tried to help, to move, but he wouldn’t relinquish his control. He just kept making gentle, maddening circles with his hips. She could picture the bunch of release of all those glorious muscles and she groaned, wishing she could see.
The image of herself in bed with Rhian and Garrick at the same time popped into her head and her brain stuttered. She could see. Someday. God help her, she had two powerful, demanding lovers who would fuck each other, too.
She thought she might just die of happiness on the damn spot.
“Jesus,” he groaned reverently. “I’ve never…this is the first time I’ve ever done this.”
She smiled against the sheets. “Fucked a woman?”
He laughed, exacting revenge with a long, slow withdrawal followed by a fast, deep plunge. “Without a condom, yes.”
She liked being his first at something. “Good?”
He folded himself around her, her legs framing his, his chest to her back. “Fucking amazing.” His words tickled her ear.
“I thought that was the part that came next?”
He chuckled against her neck. “As you wish.”
His body rolled over hers, his shaft running along her clinging walls. The ridge of his thick head almost slipped from her body, before pausing, then sinking back in. He moved slowly, carefully, undulating over her back and thrusting into her as if she were fragile and not shouting at him to go faster. He ignored her demands. Fucked her as he pleased.
She loved it. Shouted louder. Apparently immune to her demands, she wondered if he was hard of hearing. He might well be after this.
She worried he would torture her with this long, slow fuck for the rest of
the day. She wanted that even as her body clamored for more. She cried out when his warm, surging weight lifted off her back and his cock lodged deeper in her channel.
Lifting her again, he settled between her thighs, his knees shoving hers farther apart. She missed his heat but held her breath in anticipation of what he might do next.
He moaned. Shifted his clasp on her hips. “Fuck, I have to…”
“Do it!” she screamed.
God, and he did. His strokes were fast, powerful. She shuddered with the force of each impact, the shock still working through her while he was already almost completely withdrawn. And then thrusting back in again.
He repositioned her however he pleased, his next thrust stabbing the head of his rigid cock right where she needed it.
She squeaked. There was no other word for it. Every damn time he punched forward, shaking her entire body and nailing her g-spot, she let rip another undignified squeal.
Good god almighty, how fast, how long, could he go? He relentlessly reduced her to incoherent noises and thrashing limbs.
“God, shit, I’m close, I’m close,” he growled, his thrusts shortening until he shunted back and forth against her g-spot at an inhuman speed, forcing the most exquisite climax up out of her body.
She keened, head spinning, back arching as wave after wave of ecstasy tore through her. Her belly clenched, and she shook with the strength of the shudders rippling low in her body. She’d never had an orgasm like this in her life. It stole her breath. His powerful thrusts coaxed more cries, overwhelming her.
Her galloping heart tripped when he groaned and thrust deep one last time. His release pumped into her, burning her, and made her spasm again.
He trembled against her but otherwise held perfectly still until they both collapsed onto the bed. His damp face landed on her back, his nose burrowed into her spine.
She couldn’t move, her nervous system zapped into paralysis, unsure what exactly had happened. She was vaguely aware of the huge wet spot beneath her belly and thighs but couldn’t make sense of it.
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