Forbidden Three

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Forbidden Three Page 2

by Kira Blakely


  She’s wide open, on display, her pussy lips dripping for me. She messes up the sheets with those juices.

  Fuck, I’ll lick them up. I’ll drink her, devour her.

  A real moan interjects into my fantasy and drives me on. Higher. Fuck, I’ll come at this rate.

  I open my eyes and stare at the door, lift one hand and drag my shirt up and over my shoulders. I let go of my dick, get the shirt off, and hold it ready at my side, then start stroking again.

  Danielle groans down the hall. “Oh, fuck, Holden.”

  I freeze, hand on my head, my balls tightening up. She said my name.

  Fuck it, she does want me. Not that it’s any great surprise. I’m rich, I’m hot, I’m out of her league as her boss. It’s naughty, and Danielle’s a naughty girl.

  My naughty girl.

  Not yet. Not ever.

  This doesn’t change anything.

  She wants me, and I want her, and that makes it even more important we don’t touch. Ever.

  Except in my fucking mind.

  I shut my eyes again and work my cock, throbbing for her, pre-cum dripping from the tip.

  Once again, she’s laid bare before me.

  Her legs spread wide, now her hand cups her breasts, pinches her nipple as she cries out, softly. She flicks her clit, then circles it, taps it. She uses both hands now, fingering herself with one and playing with that sweet, pink pearl with the other.

  Danielle curls around herself, moaning, her perfect lips parted. She’s trapped in a moment of bliss. “Holden,” she moans. “Holden, god, you’re so fucking big.”

  The beginning of my orgasm tickles in my balls.

  Christ, she’s said that out loud.

  I open my eyes and let reality slam home. She’s saying these things in my house, under my roof. She’s moaning for me two rooms away.

  “Holden,” she keens again. “So fucking big.”

  I can’t hold on much longer, the wet squelch of the lube perfectly emulates what her pussy would sound like with me inside her, filling her to the brim.

  “I’m coming, baby,” she calls out. “Holden, I’m coming for you.”

  I clench my teeth and ram through my orgasm, blocking the tip of my dick with my shirt. I squirt five times, and then another, and another. Christ, it doesn’t end for an age. It’s the hardest I’ve ever come, and I wish every drop had been inside her.

  I exhale and rest my head against the jamb.

  Silence in the house. No more moans or begging.

  This is it. It’s the final straw.

  I can’t fire her for this. I can’t blame her for having urges when I have them myself. She has a future ahead of her. She’s saving to become a pilot, and I won’t wreck her dream.

  I’ll go to Mystique Island instead.

  One weekend of sex with a masked woman will erase my fantasies about her.

  Is has to.

  Chapter 3

  Danielle

  Mystique Island is the perfect Caribbean retreat.

  I arrive on the white sand beaches with a group of nervous women, each wearing a mask, as I am, and long flowing white dresses that are pretty much transparent.

  Nerves bubble in my belly.

  I’m finally here. A call to my sister to let her know that I’m spending the weekends with friends instead, a plane ticket, and one boat ride with a gaggle of giggling girls, beautiful, short, tall, petite, curvy—as different as can be—and here I am.

  And he’s here, too. Somewhere.

  An assistant escorts me to a villa just off the beach. It’s gorgeous, with a floor-to-ceiling window in the living room looking out on the white sands and trees. My bags are at the foot of my bed, placed there by whoever runs this place, and there’s a welcome note waiting on the pillow—gold and diamond embossed.

  I lift it and swallow, press both hands to my stomach.

  Please join us for a welcoming party down on the beach. Masks required.

  But clothing not?

  I have no idea what to expect here, but if there’s a party, it’s my best chance of finding Holden among the guests.

  Oh, god, what if he recognizes me? Or worse, what if I can’t find him?

  I’ve come all this way for this opportunity to seduce him. It’s ridiculous, pathetic, but I can’t turn back now. I won’t.

  I stand in front of the mirror in my bedroom, across from the king-sized bed decked in silken sheets, and check my reflection.

  My skin is sun-kissed, tanned, and the slopes of my breasts lift the near-transparent cotton shift I was dressed in on the boat. The outlines of my nipples are clear, as is the vague depression of my belly button.

  My hair hangs loose, a little windswept, either side of my oval face, and the mask hides my nose, but not my lips, or my eyes. I’m not exactly unrecognizable, but this is the last place he’d expect me to be.

  If I don’t talk, maybe he won’t realize… or maybe he will.

  Do it. Come on, Dani, this is what you came for. You’re here to find him, so just do it. Don’t back out now.

  I square my shoulders, and a strap slips off and drops, exposing more of my breast. I lift it back into place.

  Jeez, were these dresses designed to fall off?

  Probably, ha.

  I walk to the door of my villa, the pressure building in my core. He’s got to be here, right? He got an invite. If he’s not…

  One step out of my front door and I halt, suck in a breath.

  My villa is right on the beach, and my steps lead into the pale white sand. Just ahead of me, people are naked beneath the palm trees. Their hands are all over each other, their bodies glistening with oil or sweat or saltwater.

  It’s totally unexpected, and I blush.

  I’d assumed there’d be some modicum of modesty, but this is pretty much an orgy.

  A woman sits astride a guy, right in the sand, her tits bouncing free to the air. She moans and inserts a finger between her lips and sucks on it, while another dude stands just next to her stroking his dick.

  She reaches over, grabs it, and pulls it into her mouth.

  I gulp.

  It’s just past midday. The sun is high, and people are out here in broad daylight, all over each other.

  Is this what Holden expects? I’m not sure I’ll be able to share him.

  God, if he’s here at all.

  I steel myself for more of this. For flashes of bodies, twisting together, for hungry mouths and cocks dripping for them. I set off down the beach, heading for the bar across the way, where most of the people are clothed, chatting or sipping drinks. Some of them kiss, but they aren’t sucking on each other’s nipples here, thank god.

  I have a moment to think. To scan.

  I halt in front of the bar and bite my lip.

  A masked bartender grins at me, cocking his head to one side. “First time?”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “Don’t worry, it’s normal to be nervous. By the end of the weekend, you’ll forget all about it. You’ll never want it to end.” He winks.

  I wrinkle my nose. I doubt the staff are meant to fraternize with the guests, and I’m here for someone else. The only man who exists in my world.

  “What can I get ya?” the bartender asks.

  Behind me, a man groans, low in his throat, followed by wet, seductive noises. I don’t look back, but the backs of my legs prickle beneath the soft cotton. A breeze brushes the back of my neck.

  “Uh—” I’m not usually this indecisive, but there are definitely people fucking right behind me. It’s pretty damn distracting.

  “She’ll have champagne.” The gruff voice sends a shiver done my spine.

  It’s him!

  His tan hand rests on my forearm, and my eyes actually roll back in my head. I force them back into their regular position and take deep breaths. Got to keep it together.

  I haven’t even looked at him yet.

  You can do this. He won’t recognize you.

  I turn to him
, and I’m stunned. Stuck in place.

  It’s Holden all right, but he’s shaved off his beard since I last saw him, and the blue eyes behind his mask don’t widen in recognition. Thank god.

  “You’re mine,” he says, plainly. “For the weekend. For as long as I want. Any complaints?”

  I shake my head. I can’t form words. That part of my brain has shut down so hard it might never work again.

  “Good. Champagne,” he commands, at Winky the Bartender.

  The guy’s smile is gone now, and he pours for me and for Holden. My masked Holden.

  This weekend will be everything I want it to be. I can’t contain my excitement.

  I tremble till I’m basically vibrating on the spot. How apt.

  “This way,” Holden says and takes my hand. He leads me across the sand, past tables where people talk, and two people on the ground, kissing, grinding into each other, desperate.

  The beach is a white strip beside a turquoise ocean. Waves wash the sands, whispers of noise that raise the fine hairs on the back of my neck. Everything about this island seduces me, from the villas to the sensual moans echoing from every direction. Palm trees do little to hide the shapes beneath them.

  “Here.” Holden stops, hands me the champagne flute, then takes a sip from his own.

  He stands and stares out over the ocean now, his eyes the exact same color, a gorgeous, swirling turquoise.

  This close, I can barely move.

  Holden doesn’t look at me. He waits.

  I sip my champagne and swallow. It fizzes down my throat. God, is it ever going to happen? Does he know it’s me?

  I don’t want him to doubt this for a second. What can I do to prove it to him?

  “Strip,” he says, as if he’s reading my thoughts as they pop into my mind and flit out again. “I want you naked.”

  The champagne flute slips from my finger tips and hits the sand. The stem cracks, but it doesn’t shatter, and the liquid spreads from its mouth. I don’t care. Nothing matters but this moment.

  I’ve fantasized about it for so long. Dreamed of touching this man who’s been so patient and kind, yet powerful and hard since the beginning.

  He’s such a fucking man, even though he’s shaved his beard.

  “Now,” he says. Holden’s lips part again as if he’s about to say my name, but he doesn’t, thank god.

  I step over the wrecked glass, too lost to care about cleaning it up, and walk to the water’s edge. Waves lap my toes, and I gasp at the warmth of the water—I expected cold. My skin prickles again.

  “Turn around. Face me. Strip.” The commands are gruff, similar to the way he spoke in the kitchen not two days ago.

  I circle on the spot, swaying my hips, and reach up, real slow. I want this to last.

  “Good,” he says. “Faster.”

  My pussy clenches. Faster? He wants me naked as quick as possible. He wants me that bad.

  I drop one strap of the cotton shift, and it brushes past my nipple, already erect from the combination of warmth and readiness for him.

  Holden shudders forward a step then halts. “All of it.”

  He’s feet away from me, and he’s rock hard in his chinos, the outline of his cock pulling at the fabric. A wet patch spreads there—pre-cum dripping for me.

  I clench and moan, softly.

  “Now!” he growls again.

  I obey him and drop the other strap, my clipped nails catching on the cotton. I drag it down and step out of the puddle of fabric at my feet. I’m naked except for the mask.

  This is the moment I’ve waited for.

  Holden undoes his shirt, button by button, and I lose my breath again.

  Abs lead into a V that disappears beneath the hem of those chinos. He strips off his shirt, and his muscles ripple. He’s got tattoo sleeves, tribal decorations I’ve glimpsed only once or twice before.

  On his left pec, he bears a tattoo of two men, standing back to back, their fists raised. It’s a silhouette, but it must mean something to him. If I’d had a chance to know him, as I’d wanted to all along, maybe I’d understand.

  Right now, I don’t care too much.

  He’s half-naked.

  Holden Long is half-naked in front of me, and all my fantasies are about to come true.

  Chapter 4

  Joey

  Shit, this wasn’t meant to happen.

  I got an invite for this chick, Danielle, because my twin brother is infatuated with her. He sent me a picture of her one night, fully clothed because Holden isn’t a fucking dog, and told me all about his new nanny. How he needs to talk to me about this little problem he has with her.

  I already know what that problem is.

  He wants to fuck her.

  Knowing him, he’s probably fallen for her. My brother’s the one with the heart. I’m the hard bastard who parties, fucks, and does whatever the fuck I want.

  And now, whatever the fuck I want is her.

  I’ve never had a reaction to a woman that’s floored me, but this one has.

  So what if he likes her? She can still be mine. For the weekend. He doesn’t have to know she’s here.

  Danielle is naked in front of me on the sand. She’s fucking gaping at my body, and I haven’t even whipped out my cock yet. That’s one treasure she’ll squeal for.

  My only concern is she’ll get addicted to it and want more than I can give.

  “Don’t move,” I grunt.

  Christ, the front of my chinos are wet at the sight of her.

  She’s tan, but her tits are paler than the rest of her, brown-pink nipples puckered, her hair swept to one side in the light breeze. The sun beats down on her, and sweat shimmers on her forehead.

  She waits for me and slowly clicks her teeth together. Lifts that dropped jaw.

  This is my brother’s fantasy, not mine.

  But I’m tired of playing second fiddle. Shit, I’m the one who jets off to every corner of the earth to keep our business prospects interested. I’m the one who pitches new tech inventions to old Japanese dudes and chicks in suits.

  Fuck it.

  I’m doing this.

  I unzip my chinos and let them fall. My cock bounces free, and my girl actually whimpers.

  That’s right, Dani. It’s all for you, baby. All for you.

  “You like that?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she says and writhes on the spot. Her tits jiggle, and I trace a line from one to the other with my gaze, then down to the shaven mound between her legs, pale as well. I bet it’s smooth, and her walls are fucking silk.

  “You’re mine,” I grunt again. I have to keep saying it. No real reason. Just to reinforce it to her. So she knows that I’ll own her, I’ll fracture her. Ruin her for other men.

  My brother included.

  I stride across the beach, closing the distance between us, and she shivers, practically dances out of her skin. A low moan builds in her throat, louder, and louder, and louder…

  I cut it off with a kiss. I claim her mouth with my lips, part them roughly, and taste champagne on her tongue.

  Fuck yes. Fucking god. What the fuck?

  It’s too good. My dick drags across her belly—I outsize her by a lot—and I lift her with ease by the apples of her ass cheeks, and splash out into the water.

  The masks are still on, but I don’t need to see all of her face. Her body answers my every question. It’s supple beneath my fingertips, pliable. She’ll do whatever I want, and that’s exactly how it should be.

  “So long,” she moans, against my lips, against my tongue.

  “What?” I grunt and splash deeper into the ocean. The waves rock against our bodies, but I make sure we’re not totally submersed. I won’t have the water washing away all that delicious wetness between her legs.

  “Nothing,” she whispers.

  I suck her bottom lip and bite a little. “Say it.” Another command.

  Her tits press into my chest, her nipples grazing the skin and smattering of hair the
re, and I spank one ass cheek. “Say it!”

  “I’ve wanted this for so long,” she moans.

  My brother. She’s wanted Holden for so long. Christ, what am I doing? This is wrong.

  But I can’t care more than that brief thought. She’s hot and wet against me. Her pussy’s heat spreads against my abs. I slide her lower and rub my dick between those lips, swollen for me as they should be.

  “You don’t have to wait anymore,” I say. “Dani.” Her name comes out before I can stop it, and she stiffens. I pinch her ass cheek to snap her out of it. “I told you. You’re mine.”

  She doesn’t relax, so I grind my dick up and down between her pussy lips, rub it against her clit, and bring another moan from deep within that tight little body.

  “Oh, god,” she whispers. “Oh, my god.”

  “That’s right,” I reply.

  I place my head at her slick, quivering entrance, and she gasps.

  “Are you ready, Dani?”

  “Yes,” she hisses. “Yes, Mr. Long.”

  Jesus Christ. That’s good.

  “I like that,” I reply. “You call me that from now on. Just that.” This way, she won’t let slip my brother’s name halfway through.

  “Mr. Long,” she repeats.

  “How bad do you want it?”

  “More than you know. I want you, baby,” she groans. “I want to come for you.”

  “You’re going to.” I kiss her collarbone then suckle on her salted neck. “You’re going to come so hard you’ll fracture, baby girl. You’re going to scream. Do you hear me? You’re going to come so hard you scream, and even then, I’m not going to stop.”

  “Fuck me, please,” she begs. “Please.”

  I slide my head into her cunt, and I actually lose my mind for a second. Fucking hell. It’s like being dipped in chocolate. It’s like losing myself in the softest, sweetest prison imaginable. One I never want to leave.

  I’m her hostage until this is over. And I don’t want it to end.

  I ram my cock inside, bury myself in that silken jail, and growl against her neck. I shift my grip, hold her in place with one arm around her waist and the other grasping the back of her neck, pressing her soft hair to it.

  Everything about this chick is smooth.

 

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