She pushed it aside, closed her eyes and swayed in Brandon’s arms.
Brandon’s fingers were electric, and his touch on her exposed skin tingled, tickled. His other hand inched lower down her back, now resting on the tops of her buttocks. Tantalizingly close to cupping her ass.
She could practically hear his heart beating hard in his chest. She lost herself in the feel of him against her, around her.
Then came the sound of a voice clearing and the words, “Do you mind if I cut in?” broke her out of her reverie.
She pulled back, and looked up at ... Ethan. He grinned down at her, his tousled dark hair pushed casually behind his ears, his expression mischievous and intent all at once. Sexy. Damn.
She turned to Brandon. He appeared to be waiting for something. An answer? From her? Wasn’t Ethan asking if Brandon minded him cutting in? The way they were both staring at her, suggested the question may have been directed at her.
Barring the possibility that Ethan wanted to dance with Brandon (she nearly let out a bark of nervous laughter at the thought), this was her call. Wasn’t it bad form to dance with your date’s best friend at a time like this?
Yet Brandon didn’t look like the situation perturbed him. He looked like ... well ... like this was expected. She wasn’t sure what the appropriate protocol was.
Bottom line, though, was that dancing with Ethan was an enticing proposition. Fine. She’d be honest about it, and see what came of it. He was probably just being polite anyway.
A small voice warned her about thinking nonsense. Polite. Pure bunk.
“Okay,” she told Ethan, “I don’t mind if you cut in.”
Brandon nodded politely, and without further comment, stepped away from her. Ethan swept her up into his arms and twirled her away, calling for Mark to play something lively, and he soon had her whirling around the rooftop.
He smelled of sandalwood and lightheartedness. She laughed out loud and clung to him, letting him lead, trying to keep up, not stumble.
He held her tightly against him, so she had to throw her head back to look up at him. Her hair swirled around her, and his hands, like Brandon’s, set tingles leaping over her skin.
Soon she was flushed, and gasping for breath. Whenever Morgan caught a glimpse as Ethan twirled her past, Mark’s fingers were a blur over the frets of his guitar. She caught sight of Brandon occasionally, too, sitting in his chair, leaned back, legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed. He regarded them with a keen expression, belying his casual pose.
When Mark strummed the close of the song, Morgan was left gasping in Ethan’s arms.
“Again,” Ethan said.
“No, no. I can’t. I can’t breathe.” She laughed.
Without thinking, she rushed over to Mark and bent down, kissed him firmly on his smooth cheek. “That was wonderful! Thank you.”
He smiled, reached up and pushed her long hair back from her face, an intimate gesture that she wished she didn’t enjoy so much. “Thank you for the show,” he said, his voice deep and rumbly.
She let Ethan lead her over to the table and onto her chair. He pulled out another chair from behind the plants and joined Brandon and her at the table. Mark pulled his chair over, too.
She looked at the three men, each of whom watched her closely, inspecting her perhaps. Alike, they were, in a way. All muscular, tanned, handsome and robust. At the moment, they appeared to be far too interested in her person to be considered, strictly speaking, polite. And yet, she couldn’t be offended if their warm gazes fell too often on her breasts, her lips, her long legs.
She admitted to herself that she enjoyed their appreciation.
They chatted about the dancing, and even Mark chimed in a time or two. But it was apparent that no one was much interested in the conversation. Morgan certainly wasn’t. The men kept looking at her, and not in an innocent way.
This wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined her date would go. And yet, didn’t she have her own secret hopes?
Oh yes, she’d had her little fantasies. Brief flashes of might-be’s, maybe’s. A glimpse at possibilities before she shoved them aside as greedy fancies.
Perhaps she wasn’t being so fanciful after all.
Everyone at the table slowly fell silent as the conversation dwindled under their growing attractions to one another. They waited for something. What? Morgan had no intention of breaking the silence. One of them would have to do it.
Brandon eventually reached over and took her hand in his own. “I don’t know any other way to do this than to just say it.”
She swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“We’d like to take you downstairs now, into our apartment.”
Ethan and Mark added their agreement with a lifting of their heads.
She eyed each of them. “We ... and our. You live together?”
“Yes,” said Ethan.
“Are you ... well ...”
“We’re not lovers, if that’s what you’re going to ask,” said Ethan.
“It is.”
“We don’t bend that way. We like to share, though,” he said.
“You understand, don’t you?” asked Brandon, his expression more intent than ever.
“Maybe,” she answered.
“You want me to say it.”
“I do. Just to make things clear. No mistakes.”
Brandon nodded. “You’re right. Would you have said yes if I’d been clear when I asked you out?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t seem easily frightened. It’s what drew us to you,” said Ethan.
“I’m not. But three of you ... it’s ... different. I’m not sure.”
“But it’s clear, now, what we’d like from you, what we’d like with you?”
“I think so.”
“We’re not just talking tonight, Morgan,” Ethan said. “We want you, yes, but not just for tonight. We can wait longer if you want. Longer than we already have, if there’s hope.”
And there it was. The truth, at last, spoken aloud. They’d been wooing her from that corner booth for nearly three months and they were prepared to take even more time, if that was what she wanted.
Everything fell into place then. It was past time to recognize what she’d been hiding from herself all these weeks.
Part of her had known how it was, that these men were a package, a trio become one, and she had known it a long time. And of course, she’d understood that they all wanted her, each of them, separately, and in combination. Even Cecile had sensed it, in her own way.
How long had Morgan known, understood? She hadn’t admitted it to herself because it defied belief, went against expectation and standards of normality. Three friends, wanting one woman. Wanting to share.
Her heart pounded now. Yes, behind her guise of pretense, she’d known deep down. And tonight when Mark and Ethan became part of her date with Brandon, she’d tried to find it strange, inappropriate. Instead, she’d found it arousing. Exciting.
Brandon glided a fingertip over her palm. Ethan leaned over and touched her thigh. Under the table, Mark pressed the side of his foot against hers. It was sweet. And her heart skipped a beat.
“Say it,” she said, looking at Mark.
“We want you,” he said, his eyes sparkling under the party lights. “All three of us, together. If you’ll have us.”
Well, there it was then. No misunderstandings would be happening tonight.
Brandon shifted in his chair. “If it’s too much, all of us at once, we can try one at a time, if it would be better for you that way.”
“But it’s not how you’d prefer it,” she said.
“No,” said Ethan. “Not how we’d prefer it. But better that than nothing of you.”
Their desire for her and their willingness to compromise conspired to send a jolt through her core.
“You can take us however you want,” said Mark.
Morgan considered.
One. She stroked a fingertip across
Brandon’s big knuckles.
Two. She laid her hand over Ethan’s.
Three. She nudged at Mark’s foot.
She moistened her dry lips, looked at her handsome suitors, filled her lungs with the fresh night air. She lost herself for the briefest of moments in the idea of what they offered. Lost herself in the way they wanted her, enough to try to change for her.
But change wasn’t necessary, not for Morgan.
She smiled, slow and sultry. “Let’s try it your way.”
____________________
Ethan carried her to the bedroom and tossed her on the gigantic bed. It was bigger than king-sized. Did beds come in triple emperor size?
Brandon kissed her first. He shucked his jacket and crawled onto the bed after her, and it wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was a true scorcher from a man who’d been waiting for this moment for a long time. Exactly the kind of kiss Morgan hoped it would be.
He tasted of the wine they drank with dinner. She opened her mouth, and now he drank of her.
Large hands held her foot, tenderly removed her shoe. Then came a caress, skimming over her instep, sending an electric charge skittering up her leg and through her torso. Then her other foot. Her other shoe. Another charge. Another shiver.
Who’s hands? She didn’t know.
She knew Brandon’s hands were far from idle. He played across the plane of her stomach, then brushed upward, cupping the undersides of her breasts. A second hand followed. But it wasn’t Brandon’s other hand. No, it couldn’t be. That hand was behind her head.
She opened her eyes to see, peeked around Brandon. It was Mark, his gaze fastened on the rise and fall of her chest, his fingertips stroking over the up-curve of her breast.
Brandon lifted up and Mark bent over her, claiming the lips Brandon had ceded. He tasted of wine, too, and faintly of cinnamon. Mark’s kiss was forceful, a surprising thing, really, considering how reserved he always was.
He pressed his tongue inside her mouth and groaned when she touched him with her own. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down closer, tighter. He squeezed her breast and made her moan.
She heard the rustle of clothing, the sound of shoes and belt buckles hitting the floor. Then Mark pulled away and she looked around.
He got off the bed and began stripping away his clothes. Morgan drew a deep breath when a very naked, very aroused Ethan crawled onto the bed, his brown eyes gleaming as he took her in, sprawled there before him, legs akimbo, dress rucked up.
He was a bronzed god, she thought. But then, so were Brandon and Mark. They looked amazing in clothes, but naked they were simply astounding. So big. So very, very big. She gulped, suddenly felt tiny.
Their cocks stood out from their bodies, stiff and proud, pointing to the ceiling. They were rock hard and ready, all three of them greedy for her attention. Her stomach turned over, a thud and thump of desire. Good God. Was she really up to this?
Ethan kissed her, briefly, then wasted no time in pushing her dress the rest of the way over her hips. She sat up so he could finish undressing her.
She hadn’t worn a bra, hadn’t needed one. A hush fell over the three men as they gazed at her bare breasts. Their hungry looks raised gooseflesh on her arms.
Ethan reached out and ran his finger over her nipple, which was already standing up, pebbled. “You’re more beautiful than I imagined.”
“Yes,” said Mark, his voice rough.
Brandon’s eyes were half-lidded. He nodded and made a deep, short grunt.
If she hadn’t already been wet, she would have been after that. She could feel the moisture building with her excitement.
“Panties,” said Brandon.
Ethan didn’t ask permission, not that he needed any. He stripped her lacy panties in one fell swoop, then he gently pushed her legs apart, spreading her for them all to see.
She watched Mark’s Adam’s apple rise and fall from a hard swallow. Another grunt came from Brandon.
Ethan’s hand glided up the inside of her thigh, then teased over her swollen, bare labia. Her only hair down below was a closely trimmed triangle above her mound.
“Perfect,” Ethan declared her.
It was, she thought, and she wasn’t referring to her physicality. She meant being here, like this, with these men on this night. They made her feel perfect, and it was wonderful to bask in their approbation, to savor the thrumming sense of anticipation between her legs, the beat of her heart, and the heat in her belly.
Wonderful.
And then all restraint was gone. They fell on her, all three at once.
Glorious.
Brandon settled in near her head, returned to kissing her breathless, stroking and squeezing her breasts, his lips sometimes leaving hers to traverse her neck, sending shivers racing over her skin.
Ethan and Mark sometimes handled her breasts, but mostly they were interested in her pussy. They taunted and teased her, their fingertips stroking her labia, dipping into and out of her moist slit, tracing around the edge of her clitoris.
Having two men touch her in this most private of places nearly sent her over the edge before they hardly got started. They played with her as if she were a sexy toy, as if she had the most fascinating and arousing body parts ever displayed to a lusty male.
She didn’t know which one of them pushed a finger inside her first, but when a second finger entered her, she knew it didn’t come from the same man. She arched upwards, her small cry of pleasure captured inside Brandon’s mouth, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh of her breasts as she shoved up against him.
Then Ethan and Mark were moving inside her, and their free hands roamed over her body, her stomach and legs, her breasts, too, of course. She squirmed under them, raised her hips, spread herself wider for them. One of her hands tangled in Brandon’s hair and the other one reached down to find another man’s hair. Ethan’s. Mark’s. She didn’t know which.
Brandon’s lips finally left her own and he kissed a path down to her breasts. He licked around her areola, sucked her nipple into his mouth.
Ethan and Mark didn’t stop with the fingers inside her pussy. They picked up the speed of their movements and she gasped at how they entered and pulled at cross purposes to one another, driving her wild from the unfamiliar sensation.
Her hips bucked of their own will and when a hot mouth closed over her clitoris, she groaned the loudest yet, and knew she wouldn’t last long.
She looked down. It was Ethan’s tongue dancing on her, trailing lightly over her sensitive bud. She clenched, cried out.
Mark joined Brandon and came to claim her other breast, her other nipple. His teeth nipped at her, making her shiver. One of his hands remained down below, a finger still inside her, keeping Ethan’s finger company as they plunged inside her.
Ethan’s tongue laved her clit and labia until she bucked harder, the pressure of imminent release building inside her at an astounding rate. She’d explode. She knew it.
They were a formidable team, these three, and it seemed to her that they were intent on making her lose her mind. She came close, so close to going over the edge, that she believed herself there, falling over. But no. It wasn’t to be. Ethan’s tongue stopped its divine torment, and their fingers left her, their mouths no longer sucked and their teeth no longer nibbled at her nipples.
She cried out in frustration, so close. So close. But not quite. Damn.
And then they began again. The slide of fingers, the kiss of lips, the slippery firm tongues. The sound of their breathing. The labored sound of her own.
Again. So close. The build up. The ball of fire roiling in her core, on the verge of exploding outward. But no. The men stopped. And it was another not quite. Another damn.
The fourth time they stopped her and started up again, she’d had enough. She raised her head and glared at her three tormentors.
“That’s it,” she said, her voice sounding crackly, strained. “Do that to me again, and so help me, I’ll kick ev
ery one of you off this bed and finish it by myself!”
They grinned at her. Ethan laughed out loud, the waves of his laughter sending a new thrill through her clit. She arched up against him and nearly purred.
“I like a greedy woman,” said Brandon.
“Mmm, me too,” said Mark.
“Doesn’t mean we have to give her everything she wants, though,” Brandon said.
“I mean it!” Morgan squeezed his solid shoulder. “I’ll do it myself.”
“Hmm. I’d kind of like to see that,” said Ethan, his voice muffled slightly by his task between her legs.
“Me too,” said Brandon.
“Mmm,” was all Mark managed, since he’d returned to sucking her breast.
Brandon grabbed her hand and pushed it down between them, down to where it rested next to Ethan’s head.
Ethan lifted away from her. “Touch yourself. Finish it.”
Damn. “No, you.”
“Uh-uh. Now I want to watch you do it. We all do,” said Ethan.
She missed his hot mouth on her, the flick of his tongue. A dreadful loss. But she did still have his finger inside her, and Mark’s.
They’d wait her out, and she knew she didn’t have the patience to compete. She touched herself. Mark and Brandon raised their heads from her breasts, looked down to the center of new interest -- her fingers on her own clit.
“God, that’s sexy, hot,” said Brandon.
And he was right. Having their fingers pumping inside her, pinching her nipples and squeezing her plump breasts while they watched her rub her clit ... well ... it was crazy hot.
It didn’t seem possible that the ball of fire inside her could get bigger, but it did. And she circled her clit faster and faster, clamped down on the fingers inside her, arched upward into the hands caressing her breasts.
The fire built until it spread from her core outward, expanding into an inferno that raged through her body, through her torso, her limbs, even over the top of her head. She shuddered under the onslaught of this mighty release, trembled, groaned and noisily cried out her pleasure.
From somewhere came the sounds of her lovers exhaling, saying naughty things to her, compliments and comments. If she were unable to clearly hear them through the deafening sound of the blood roaring in her ears, her panting struggles to catch her breath, then that was okay. The three men thought she was sexy, they wanted her, they would take her now. She knew what she needed to know.
Take Three, Please (A Menage, Sexy and Short Romance) Page 2