Sarah's Seduction

by Lora Leigh

  “You’ll suffer worse before it’s over with,” he growled, tossing the filter to the yard, then lighting another cigarette. “Just like Marly suffers.”

  And yet, in no way the amount he was suffering right now. Sarah felt tears come to her eyes. If he were a weaker man, he would be rocking in misery. Instead, his body was tight, corded with tension and despair, his eyes bleak and hopeless. It was breaking her heart, tearing a piece of her soul from its mooring to see him like this, hurting so desperately.

  “Brock, don’t shut me out,” she whispered. “If you shut me out, how am I supposed to understand?”

  She could barely suppress her cry of rage when he looked up at her. His eyes were hollow, his face ravaged by pain.

  “You don’t want to know, Sarah,” he denied her, his voice gentle, heart-breaking in it’s agony. “I wish I didn’t know.”

  “But you do,” she told him, touching his face, her fingers easing over the lines sorrow had edged into it. “I love you, Brock. Very much. You can’t shut me out like this.”

  He turned his head away from her. He drained the second drink, breathing harshly as the whisky burned a path down his throat.

  “I told you what happened,” he reminded her. “I won’t go over it again.”

  He couldn’t go over it again, Sarah knew, and she didn’t know if she could bear it if he did. Her heart would shatter from his pain.

  “What’s the nightmare about?” She edged closer, relieved when he pulled her desperately into his arms, holding onto her as he braced her back against his chest.

  “Cade.” He buried his face in her hair. “It’s always about Cade.”

  “What about Cade?” She felt his lips in her hair, a dampness that shouldn’t be there falling from him. Sweat, or tears? She was terrified to turn back and look.

  “How that bastard hurt him. How he made Cade hurt us, or watch him do it. It was always Cade’s choice.” He held onto her, a lifeline, Sarah thought. He held onto her as though she alone were keeping him sane.

  “Which did you prefer, Brock?” His arms tightened around her, his breath was harsh at her back. “Would it have mattered which it was?”

  He drew in a shocked breath.

  “Cade tried to protect us.”

  “But the abuse was done in a way that destroyed your trust in the one person you knew you could depend on. If you didn’t depend on him, you could depend on no one. And Cade knew that. Just as he knew he was sacrificing that trust in an effort to save you the physical pain,” she guessed.

  “Yeah,” he whispered, seeming to breathe easier. “That was it. The bastard knew what he was doing, didn’t he, Sarah?”

  Like a man lost, searching desperately for an innocence forever denied him, but resigned to the cost. Sarah breathed in deeply.

  “I would take your pain if I could,” she told him. “If it would ease you, Brock, I would take the pain myself.”

  “God no.” He pulled her tighter to him. “No, Sarah, never wish that. I’m sane now, if such a thing happened to you, it would kill me. Do you understand that? I couldn’t survive it.”

  “Tell me how to help you then, Brock,” she said, fighting to keep her voice soft, tender. “Tell me how to ease you.”

  The front door opened and Cade stepped onto the porch. He was dressed as Brock was, in sweats and nothing else. His dark eyes found them, his pupils flaring, his pants bulging.

  “You okay, Brock?” His voice carried little emotion, but Sarah glimpsed a raging pain in his eyes.

  “Yeah.” His hand moved, cupping Sarah’s breast with a slow, deliberate movement. “I’m fine.”

  Sarah gasped, her eyes widening as she watched Cade’s gaze center on that hand and the plump flesh Brock cupped. She blinked, not just at the arousal in Cade’s eyes, but a softening of the agony and easing of his own lines of grief about his mouth and eyes.

  “Brock?” She gasped as the other hand released the belt that held the robe together. “Oh God, I don’t think I can do this.”

  “You don’t have to do anything, baby,” he promised her, desolation echoing in his voice. “He won’t fuck you, I swear. Just touch you. Sarah please, just try baby. Just try.”

  Brock drew the edges of her robe from her shoulders, down her arms. Cade went to his knees beside the lounger, watching her, his expression so tender she wanted to weep. There was love there. A gentle, abiding, heartfelt emotion that she knew wasn’t reflected to her.

  “You tie us together, Sarah,” he whispered, his hand reaching for her breast as her head fell back to Brock’s chest. “Do you understand that?”

  “No,” she whimpered, her eyes closing as his hand cupped her breast, his head lowering.

  She jerked as his lips touched her. Her breathing became laborious, matching Brock’s, her body responding to the hard length of his cock rising along her back. She tilted her head back to the side, resting it on his shoulder, eyes opening, her breath halting for long seconds at the look on Brock’s face as he watched his brother suckle at her breast.

  “You’re beautiful.” His gaze flickered to her. “So damned pretty, Sarah, it breaks my heart.”

  She arched into the caress, whimpering as she felt male fingers, not Brock’s, smoothing along her thigh, inching closer to the flesh between.

  “Don’t look away.” He turned her head back to him when she would have looked away. “Look at me, baby. Let me tell you something.”

  She jerked violently as Cade’s fingers met the throbbing, slick lips of her cunt. His fingers ran through the narrow slit, circled her clit, retreated, then advanced. Each touch a whisper against flesh, an electrical charge of lust.

  “What?” she gasped, confused, fighting to hold onto her sanity as she felt the dual pleasure of those experienced fingers between her thighs, the hungry mouth at her breast.

  “I would die for him, Sarah,” he whispered, staring down at her, the fingers of his hand tweaking the nipple Cade had yet to administer to. “I would give my life for him, and him for me. And this is the only way I have of proving it. The only chance we both have to feel any affection, any love for each other. Through you. Through Marly. This is all we have, Sarah. Let him pleasure you, just for a minute. Let me watch, knowing the woman I love binds us together. Just let him touch you. That’s all.”

  “Marly,” she groaned, her head tossing as the pleasure rioted through her system. “This will hurt Marly.”

  She couldn’t bear it. She couldn’t escape it. Cade sucked at her nipple, his tongue flickering it heatedly as his fingers traced every bare inch of her cunt. Through the narrow slit, circling the entrance that wept in emptiness, then back to her clit. Slow, sure strokes that destroy any chance of rational thought.

  “Shh, I promise, Marly won’t hurt. We would never hurt Marly, Sarah.” Brock’s lips were at her neck, his tongue stroking, his voice whispering over her flesh. “Do you know what it does to me, to see you dazed, helpless in your pleasure?” he asked her deeply. “It eases my soul, Sarah. It eases a part of my heart that never knows light. Never knows warmth. To see you, accepting, loving me enough to give the ultimate sacrifice to my brother. Do you understand that, Sarah?”

  God, did he know what he was saying? Did he know he was sacrificing her body on an altar built of lust? Aroused, soothed, knowing he was showing, finally, ultimately, that he could love his brother? Rather than disgusting her, confusing her further, it began to make a strange sort of sense. Then nothing made sense.

  “Brock,” she nearly screamed his name as Cade’s fingers penetrated the entrance to her body.

  She felt the muscles of her pussy grip him. Hold him. Her juices flowing around his fingers, easing his way as he groaned against her breast. She was gasping for breath, moaning like a demented sex goddess as she felt her body being lowered along the lounger, Cade’s mouth following the movement, his tongue licking down her stomach, growing ever closer to the soaked, slick flesh of her cunt.

  “Yes, Sarah.” She looked int
o Brock’s face as he arched her back over his arm, his head bending to her breast, his tongue laving, then covering the nipple as Cade’s mouth covered her clit.

  She couldn’t hold on. She fought her release, fought the ultimate pleasure they were giving her, but she couldn’t fight forever. The feel of long fingers thrusting deep inside her, Brock’s mouth at her breast, the utter depravity of the act was too much for her. Her body arched, her head tossed. She was only vaguely aware of Brock stroking his erection with his free hand, as Cade did the same to his own. Then the world rocked around her, stars exploded before her eyes, her hips arched, her cry shattered the night, joining two harsh male cries as they climaxed simultaneously, caught in a web of mutual desire, passion, love and fear.

  * * * * *

  Marly closed the front door, careful to make no sound. She didn’t want to disturb them, didn’t want to take away from the bond being re-established, the pleasure pulsing between the three. Her heart was beating a symphony of pain, jealousy and arousal. She knew what Sarah was feeling, knew the incredible eroticism of the act, the sheer lust that pulsed through her body. She also knew that Cade was her lover.

  She trembled, tears seeping from beneath her closed eyes as she listened to Sarah’s climatic cries. Her fists clenched, her heart aching. Her little whimper lost in the darkness.

  “Hey, Munchkin.” Sam’s arms wrapped around her, strong, warm, pulling her against his bare chest, his head resting on hers. “You okay with this?”

  Sarah’s moans were building again. Cade and Brock wouldn’t leave her with just one climax, though Marly knew the actual sex act would not be completed. Not tonight. Not like that. It was a seduction, a well intended easing, a bonding. Sarah was too wary, too frightened of what was coming. And Marly hadn’t been able to tell Cade that he could complete the act. She was terrified.

  “He loves me. Right?” she whispered as his lips feathered her neck. His erection at her back proved that he was not immune to what was happening on the porch. But then again, Sam stayed hard. And since Heather James’ attack, he stayed seeped in pain.

  “He loves you, Marly. You and Brock. But you’re his soul.” Sam assured her, and she knew Sam wouldn’t lie to her. She knew Cade wouldn’t lie to her, but she was scared of this change. She was terrified of losing the security she had come to cherish.

  “He loves you too, Sam.” She leaned her head against his chest as he moved her away from the door.

  The sounds of pleasure from the three outside were arousing, primal. Marly shivered, knowing well the ecstasy the other woman was experiencing.

  “Yeah, me too.” Sam sounded tired, weary.

  She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the sound of Sarah’s scream of release from the porch. Marly shivered and bit her lip as arousal flooded her body.

  She glanced up Sam, seeing the flush on his cheeks, feeling the taut sexual tension that invaded his body.

  “Coffee?” she asked breathlessly.

  Sam breathed out roughly. “Tranquilizer.” He shook his head as he grinned down at her. “Hell, Marly, at least you can’t say you and Sarah will live boring lives.”

  Marly snorted. Boring now. But she admitted, until she learned why their lives were so intertwined, it would be more than frustrating.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Sarah was desperate to forget the night before. The sight of Cade August, his cock in his hand as he stroked himself to completion while his mouth threw her into orgasm, Brock behind her, finding his own relief, his mouth at her breast, was too much. She couldn’t forget it. She couldn’t stop the pulsating echo of lust from trembling over her body as she thought about it. And neither could they. Breakfast had been strained, Sarah and Marly were quiet, the men tense. Sarah had no idea if Marly knew what Cade had participated in the night before, but she didn’t want to ask, either. The sexual tension was thick in the air, emotions were charged and Sarah felt as though she were slowly drowning.

  Desperate to escape the suddenly stifling atmosphere of the house, she put on the skimpy two-piece bathing suit Brock had bought, a wrap, grabbed a towel and headed for the pool. The men were supposedly working in the stables and barn that afternoon, so she hoped for a couple of hours of peace. A chance to clear her head.

  The pool was cool, the water rippling over her seductively as she floated on a thin, foam, floating pad. Her eyes were closed to the sun, her body relaxed and warm when she felt the disturbance to the water, indicating another body had entered. She rose, shielding her eyes, watching as Marly pushed a matching pad towards her, her body stretched out on the soft foam, evidently intent on enjoying the summer sun as well.

  “Everything okay?” The other woman’s eyes were dark, sad.

  “You looked so peaceful, I thought I would join you,” Marly said softly, propping her head on her crossed arms as Sarah turned over as well.

  Peaceful? Not hardly, Sarah sighed.

  They faced each other now. Both wary, both uncertain. Sarah could see the questions in the other woman’s eyes, a need to understand, a need Sarah felt echoing inside her.

  “I checked before I came out. The men are still working.” Yet, Marly kept her voice low. “I needed to talk to you.”

  Sarah watched her, wondering at the pain in the other woman’s eyes.

  “So, talk.” Sarah shrugged, uncertain now that the time had come to do so.

  “I know what happened last night, Sarah. I’m not angry at you.”

  Sarah flinched. Marly’s voice was too gentle, too understanding.

  “I’m glad one of us is fine with it,” she muttered in frustration. “Because I’ll be honest, Marly. I’m having a hell of a time here.”

  “I didn’t say it doesn’t bother me, instinctually,” Marly sighed. “It was the nightmare. Cade won’t stay away when one of them has the nightmare. He knew you were with Brock. I knew something would happen.”

  Sarah’s heart beat sluggishly in her breast. Panic threatened to engulf her. A panic born of her own confusion, her own conflicting emotions. None of this made sense to her, especially her own arousal.

  “How much has Brock told you about this?” Marly couldn’t meet her eyes now.

  Marly wasn’t ashamed, she wasn’t frightened, but Sarah could tell she was uncertain. That uncertainty made her vulnerable and Marly August wasn’t a woman noted for vulnerability. Sassiness, daring, even a measure of pride, but not vulnerability.

  “I would like to think I know everything,” Sarah sighed. “If I don’t by now, I’m going to be pissed later.”

  Sarah knew that more would likely be too much.

  “Their lifestyle?” Marly’s eyes met hers fully now. Sarah saw the incredible strength it was taking for her to face Sarah’s knowledge head on.

  Sarah lowered her eyes, watching her fingers play nervously through the water. She shrugged.

  “I know about the lifestyle and the part you play in it. I know Brock refuses to stop.” Sarah remembered his flash of pain when he asked her not to make him. As though she had control of what he did.

  “Do you know why?” There was the edge of pain. But it was rife with confusion, with sadness.

  Sarah raised her gaze until she met Marly’s once again.

  “Cade hasn’t told you?” she asked, checking the yard again to make certain there were no ears to overhear their conversation.

  “He won’t tell me, Sarah. And I have to know. Whatever’s going on is killing the only man I’ve ever loved and I can’t stand it anymore.” Despair edged her words, and filled her eyes. “The attack the other night and what happened outside last night, has only made him worse. “

  Sarah sighed roughly. “I need a drink.”

  Dammit, she didn’t need this. She moved from the foam pad, wading through the waist deep water to the wide set of steps that led to the concrete patio. There, sitting in icy splendor beneath the table umbrella was the pitcher of southern tea she had made early. Sweet, with an edge of whisky, it was cre
ated to calm even the worst of maidenly jitters. She was getting those a lot lately.

  Marly followed her, watching her, needing something Sarah wasn’t certain was her place to give. Pouring two glasses of the tea, Sarah sat down in one of the cushioned chairs, shaded by the umbrella above. Marly was only seconds later joining her.

  “Sarah. I know these men,” Marly whispered. “They’re good men. Strong, honorable men. What they need from the women they love isn’t natural. It’s not painful, it’s filled with love, and often a beauty you would never expect, but it leaves whatever is broken in them unmended. I want Cade whole. I need him healed.”

  “I haven’t agreed to what they want.” She couldn’t look Marly in the eye. She hadn’t agreed, but she knew the pressure was on. She wasn’t certain how long she could resist, as long as she was in this house.

  “You will.” Marly smiled, showing no jealousy, no remorse. “They’re exceptional men, Sarah. But I can’t accept it until I know why. “

  And Cade obviously didn’t want her to know. This placed Sarah in a position of knowing, of seeing Marly’s pain, her inability to understand in the face of him touching another woman. It was a touch Sarah had been unable to deny. Why should she deny this woman understanding in return?

  “Cade acts like a dangerous man, Marly.” Sarah breathed roughly. “I’m not certain if I want to be the one to tell you anything.”

  “He won’t hurt you,” Marly promised. “I swear, Sarah. Please, just tell me.”

  Sarah gazed into those wide, pleading eyes. Marly was younger than she by a few years. Two perhaps. Younger, but already accepting more than Sarah could have believed possible.

  “Men are assholes,” she muttered.

  Marly’s return smile was bitter, accepting.

  “I know they were abused. Somehow. I know something terrible happened, Sarah. But none of them will tell me what. I need to know what happened.” Marly leaned close, staring at Sarah in determination.

  Sarah took a long drink, tasting the liquor in her drink and praying for courage. Where was Brock and his sexual itch when she needed the distraction? Oh no, he had to go out and play cowboy.