by Lora Leigh
“If you need help figuring out how to use them, I could help you out,” he offered.
Heather choked on her strangled curse as he moved close again. She wondered if he could see the steam that should be pouring from her pussy.
“I’m sure I can figure it out,” she finally gasped. “Go watch television or something.” She turned from him, and would have put the distance of the room between them if his arm hadn’t come gently around her waist.
He exerted no pressure, but she was so damned weak he didn’t have to. She fought for breath as she felt his erection against her lower back, his lips at her neck.
“Push it inside you first, Heather. Then line up those little ears to grip your clit between them. When you turn it on, the dildo will move and flex inside you as it turns in little circles. The little pearls in the base will flip and beat around, stimulating your tender opening, and the ears?” His teeth raked her neck. “Those little ears will pulsate and massage your clit as your hips twist and thrash, driving you closer to orgasm.”
His hand pulled her shirt free of her jeans as the door opened again and Sam stepped slowly into the kitchen. Heather whispered his name, terrified now, caught by his brother and the erotic words pouring from his mouth as he pulled her T-shirt up her abdomen, and Sam, who watched it all, his eyes darkening, his sweat pants tenting with his own erection as he watched his brother’s hands.
Hands that pulled her shirt along her body until the full mounds of her breasts met the cool air of the dimly lit kitchen. She was fighting for breath, her eyes locked with Sam’s, a plea on her lips, but she was unable to force the words out.
Cade’s hands cupped her breasts as Sam came closer.
“The dildo will fuck you slow and easy, stretching your tight pussy, Heather,” Cade continued. “It’s not as large as we are, or as long, but it will get you ready. When you climax, your body will tighten, the sensation ripping through your womb…”
“Oh my God.” She arched as Sam’s head lowered to one of the ripe breasts Cade was cupping and directing to his mouth.
She was helpless, caught, trapped by the sensuality of the act as Sam’s mouth covered the hot, aching peak, his tongue raking her nipple as his mouth began to draw on her with a firm, suckling motion. Her hands rose to Sam’s head, whether to push him away or pull him closer she wasn’t certain. But she wasn’t able to do either. He caught her hands, trapping them in one of his larger ones as the fingers of the other went to her jeans.
Her moans filled the room as his fingers jerked the buttons open.
“Think about it, Heather,” Cade whispered sensually, his voice thick and rough. “And later, after Sam gets over his stubbornness, he’ll lay you on your stomach.” Sam’s hands breeched the opening of her jeans. “And you’ll have that Rabbit trapped inside you.” Sam’s fingers raked her swollen clit. “And while it’s fucking you nice and easy, he’ll push his cock up your tight ass, making the sensations multiply…” She screamed out in desperation as Sam plunged two long fingers deep inside her weeping cunt.
She shattered. The orgasm that tore through her body had her rising to her toes as his fingers twisted inside her, his mouth drawing on her breast, his tongue flaying her tight nipple. The room darkened as her eyes dazed, her body jerking, shuddering as the explosion rocked every cell within it.
Caught between the two men as their hands touched her, lips on her skin, fire streaking through her veins, she could only cry out Sam’s name. She trembled, her body shuddering spasmodically. She felt her release pour over his fingers as her legs tightened, her pussy milking the fingers fucking her, stealing her sanity.
When it was over, it was Sam’s arms that drew her close, his lips that whispered soothing phrases in her ear, his hands that ran gently over her back.
“Come to me, Heather, when you’re ready,” he growled, his voice hard, tight with his own unsatisfied arousal. “But don’t wait too fucking long, or I might come to you. And when I do, I might be flat out of control.”
He moved her to the recliner, sat her gently upon it as he kissed her lips. A soft, gentling caress, before he turned and stalked from the room. Heather blinked, then stared at Cade where he stood by the swinging door.
“It’s your gift to give, Heather. He won’t take it from you. But you might find you get in return a hell of a lot more than you ever believed possible.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Three in the morning was a hell of a time, Heather thought as she trudged wearily up the stairs. After Sam and Cade had left the kitchen, the night had been quiet, leaving her to reflect on the events that had destroyed many of her beliefs and left her fighting the inner knowledge that she was a goner as far as Sam and his brothers were concerned.
She knew the history of the men, knew the abuses they had suffered, and she suffered for Sam now. But there was something so dark and lonely inside him. She shook her head; she couldn’t put her finger on it. Something was raging inside him that almost frightened her. As though he were fighting himself as much as the past.
She pushed her fingers wearily through her hair and walked into her room, closing the door behind her. She glanced at the door on the other side of the room. It led to Sam’s room. Interconnecting rooms.
She stood and stared at the door. It wasn’t closed as she had left it earlier. It had been opened just enough that she would know the offer was there. She stared at it somberly, wondering if she dared.
She licked her lips and shook her head wearily. Damn him, he wasn’t making this easy for her. Do this, do that. As though she had no idea, and wasn’t in the least prepared for him. She snorted silently. She had known for months what was coming, and had fought to prepare herself for it. Marly and Sarah had helped to an extent. Those two women amazed her.
She undressed, her eyes closing as she stepped out of her jeans, feeling the butt plug she had inserted earlier as her muscles tightened around it. The erotic, naughty feeling of wearing the device had nearly driven her crazy in the kitchen with the two men.
Heather wondered what he would have thought, what he would have done if he had known that what he had threatened to do to her, she had already done to herself. Shaking her head at the thought, she moved to the bathroom and removed it. The sensual feeling of the plug sliding free of her stretched anus had her pussy throbbing. She closed her eyes, wondering how Sam would feel, his cock pulsing, burrowing in and out of her as he had threatened her countless times.
She washed the device, smiling a bit regretfully as she left the bathroom and moved to her dresser. She stored the item away, and moved toward the bed. Then she stopped, frowning, uncertain.
“No…” The sound came again, a moan of pain, of rage.
Heather trembled. Sam’s voice was broken, enraged, filled with disbelief as he fought his nightmares once again. Her body tightened as she turned to his door. She knew what would happen. He would rage and cry out, bringing himself from the dream then stalking from the house. Rick would have to track him, watch him, otherwise he would ride out and head into the darkness of the open land.
She pulled on her robe, moving quickly for the door.
“So much blood…” His voice was strained, agonized, as she stepped through the doorway. “Oh God, Cade, what did I do? What did I do Cade… No… No, Cade… NO!”
He twisted on the bed; the blankets kicked away from his nude body as he fought whatever demons haunted his nightmares.
“Too much blood…” he cried out again. “Oh God, Cade it hurts…”
He twisted, his voice ragged, fighting the memories, the horror of the past.
“Cade…too much blood…” He cried out the words again.
Heather moved closer to the bed, the light from the bedside lamp was dim, but she gasped in horror at what she saw. Scars, unimaginable scars, scored his body from his abdomen to his thighs. Razor thin, crisscrossing. She swallowed tightly, wondering what could have possibly cut him so deep, and yet with such thin precision to leave such
scars. She had seen him naked before, but never like this, while he was helpless. And she realized that though he had never tried to hide his erection from her, he had always made certain the scars weren’t so visible.
“No.” He thrashed on the bed. “No, goddamn you. I did it. I did it…”
Heather cried out, jerking back as he came up in the bed, his hand gripping her wrist and jerking her to him.
“Sam?” She cried out as his eyes, nearly black with pain and shock stared into hers.
His hand tightened on her wrist as he blinked at her, perspiration covering his body as the air around them grew thick with tension. Heather shuddered as she watched him, wondering how in the hell he had remained sane with the strength of these nightmares haunting him.
“Sam.” She reached out with her free hand to touch his face.
“No.” He gripped her wrist, holding it away from him, staring back at her as though he wasn’t certain why she was there, or what she wanted.
“You were having a nightmare.” She swallowed tightly, licking her lips in nervous awareness of the sexual heat beginning to build in his expression.
She felt her breasts growing heavy, swelling as his gaze dropped to them. Her face flushed as her nipples hardened beneath his stare, feeling his interest even through the cool silk of her robe. Her body was flushed, her cunt heating, dampening further.
“Heather.” His hands tightened on her wrists. “I’m sorry.”
“Sam?” She watched the intent fill his expression, bleak and hot, desperate.
Sexual tension wrapped around them, and as her gaze flickered to his lap she watched his cock swelling, thickening before her eyes. She tried to pull her wrists from his grasp, suddenly nervous, uncertain. Sam was at his most dangerous after the nightmares, and though he had never been known to hurt Marly or Sarah when the nightmares raged within, she knew that his sexuality was at its peak then.
“I need you.” His voice was hoarse, hungry, yet still shaded with horror.
“Sam,” she gasped his name as he pulled her to the bed, releasing one of her wrists only long enough to transfer it to the other hand as he released the loose knot in her robe.
He jerked her across his lap and she fought for balance. The robe was nearly torn from her as he reached to the nightstand, fumbling with a drawer as she fought to move away from him.
“No.” His hand pressed against her lower back. “Stay still. For God’s sake, stay still, Heather. Please.”
She struggled against him, not frightened, yet unwilling to just submit to whatever he needed. Everyone submitted to what Sam needed. They pampered and coddled him, and tried to ease memories and nightmares that only grew as the years went by.
Heather refused to pamper, or to submit. She knew that taking him wouldn’t be easy. She knew what he wanted, what he needed, and knew the rough ride she would receive in the bargain. But she was determined to break the rage growing in his soul. If she had to fight him to do it, then by God, she would fight.
She pushed against the bed, struggling to come to her knees, when his hand landed on the cheek of her rear. She stilled in shock. Not in shock that he had done it, in shock at the flash of pleasure that struck her sharper than his hand.
“Stay still.” He moved, flipping her to her stomach on the bed.
Before she could struggle away, do more than bring her knees up, he was there. His hands gripped her wrists, stretching them out until he could restrain first one, then the other to the heavy posts of his bed with the leather restraints he had obviously brought back to his room.
The long straps with their wrist cuffs were secured quickly, her strangled screams of outrage doing little to deter him as he moved to her feet. Excitement raced through her body, though she fought him, kicking out at him, fighting to keep him from restraining her legs as well. She wouldn’t submit. She wouldn’t give in. Despite her halfhearted struggles, he managed to clip the leather restraints on her ankles and attach them to the footboard posts.
Then his hand went between her thighs. She cried out as his fingers slid through the folds of her pussy, gathering the thick cream that flowed from her vagina. Proof that she was aroused; that what he was doing was more exciting than anything she had known in her life.
There was only enough slack in the straps that restrained her ankles to allow her to lift her hips. She pressed closer to the mattress though, struggling to evade his fingers as she heard his breathing, harsh and heavy behind her.
“I told you, stay away after the nightmares, Heather.” His voice was broken, gasping as he bent over her. “I warned you, and you came anyway.”
“Let me go, Sam.” She jerked as she felt his cock nudge between her thighs. “You won’t get what you want this way.”
“Won’t I?” His lips were at her ear, his breathing heavy, hot as they moved to her neck.
She fought the insidious pleasure as he kissed the sensitive flesh between her shoulder and her neck.
“I need you.” He licked her skin, his hand smoothing up her side, caressing the curves of her breasts. “I need you, Heather. More than you know.”
Her eyes followed his arm as he reached to the side of her, widening as he grabbed the tube of lubrication from the bed table.
“Sam.” She fought the restraints then, knowing what was coming, suddenly nervous, wary of her ability to accept the invasion.
As he moved back, his free hand slid over her back, the curve of her ass, then inward, closer, moving inexorably toward the entrance to her anus.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sam was riding the edge of sanity and he knew it. As always, the nightmares, foggy and uncertain, left him grasping, fighting for something to hold onto, something to fight back the demons haunting him. And suddenly, in the midst of the nightmare, there was Heather. Smelling of romance and desire, soft and satin, warm, tempting him further than his fragile control could bear.
He stared down at her, watching her ass flex as she fought the restraints, hearing her whispered cries, knowing arousal filled them. He could smell her heat like a midnight rain, feel it flowing from her tight little pussy below. But he needed more right now. He needed something darker, more erotic, an acceptance, a submission that came from only one act.
He flipped open the cap of the lubrication and smeared a large amount across his fingers. Then with his other hand separated the cheeks of her ass as he widened his knees, forcing them under her thighs, forcing her to lift the soft curves of her rear closer to him.
He stared at the little entrance in surprise. It was reddened, loosened marginally, showing evidence of having recently been stretched for more than a few slight seconds. She had been wearing a plug. He swallowed tightly. Dear God, had she worn it earlier and he hadn’t noticed?
He watched, entranced, as his own fingers moved for the flexing entrance.
“Sam…” Her wail was one of reluctant arousal as the cooling gel touched the heated area.
“So pretty.” His own voice was guttural, his lust barely leashed as he fought to prepare her with gentleness.
Had she moved away from him, had she done anything other than moan his name and press back against his invading fingers, then he could have stopped, could have halted the spiraling loss of control surging through him.
But he could only watch, tortured, as he pressed two fingers against the little rosebud. It opened, spreading reluctantly as she bucked against him as though to draw away, gasping, crying out his name.
His cock was thick, hard, throbbing in increased demand as she writhed beneath his touch.
“No, don’t fight me.” He followed her movements, watching, his mouth watering as his fingers sank into the tight—so fucking tight—depths of her anus.
She clenched on him, her muscles struggling to accept the intrusion as he pulled back, then pressed deeper. She thrashed, tightening on him, but taking him as he worked his fingers inside the searing heat of her ass.
With his other hand, he clumsily smeared more
of the lubricant from the tube over the thick length of his cock. When a long line of the thick, cool gel had been applied, he tossed the tube aside. He stroked the gel over his cock as he watched, never taking his eyes from the sight of her tender back entrance opening around his fingers as he slowly fucked her with them.
“Sam, you’re killing me.” She was panting for breath, her voice weak with arousal and stunning desire. She wanted him, wanted his possession. Just him. This wasn’t Marly or Sarah, who took him because of his brothers’ needs; this was Heather, who took him because of her own.
“Feel how good it is, Heather,” he whispered desperately. “Forbidden and hot, with just a touch of pain, just enough bite to let you know you’re alive, that you need.” He pushed his fingers deeper, watching as she accepted him, her body jerking as the pleasure rippled over it.
As he pulled back, he added a third finger. She cried out as he worked them inside her. Her ass tightened and he groaned, imagining the bite of the muscles around his cock as he took her. She jerked as though to move away from him, her hips thrashing, her thighs quivering as she fought him. But she took him. He fucked her slow and easy with his fingers, imagining, knowing the exquisite pleasure to come.
Assured that she was ready, knowing if he had to wait a moment longer he would lose all sense of control, he pulled his fingers back, easing from her as his hands gripped her hips, holding her still as he knelt behind her.
“I need this,” he growled. “First this, Heather.” He cock nudged at her prepared opening.
“Why?” she cried out. “Tell me why, Sam.”
He shook his head, fighting the answer. He couldn’t answer her, couldn’t put the need to words. He watched instead. Watched as his erection pressed against the little hole, forcing it to flower open, to stretch to take the bulging head.
“Sam.” The fear in her voice suddenly stopped him. “Sam, please don’t hurt me.”
Oh God, no. No, don’t hurt me… Sam shook his head, fighting the twisting nightmares that fought to release.