by Rowena
I don’t feel bad per se when I think about Scott—I mean who knows how long this crazy perv would have kept us here if Calla and I hadn’t finally done it?
I just don’t know how we’re going to tell him, or even if we should. Personally, I’d prefer not to, but it’ll be hard to look at him knowing his girl bloomed for me.
She shouldn’t be with him anyway, but I guess I don’t have a say in that at this stage.
The way I see it, I have up to three days to prove to Calla that she should be with me.
To think of her being in Scott’s arms, and him touching her again makes me boil.
If there’s one thing I have going for me, it’s that I have successfully rocked her world. I saw it all over her—the way she panted, the way she moaned, the way her eyes took me in, how wet she got, the way she squeezed me…neither of us wanted it to end. Climax, yes, but only to start over and do it again and again.
She already knows our bodies fit, and now that I’m in her mind in a different way, I have about seventy-two hours to win her heart.
I recognize the effects of distance—physical and otherwise—and I know that distance will work for me when I see Calla’s furtive glances in my direction.
The way she keeps trying to look away or hide the blazing desire in her eyes leads me to believe she’s still trying to be a good girl, but she is clearly affected by our encounters and wants more of the same without asking for it.
She keeps giving herself the mental equivalent of a slap on the hand for her wayward thoughts, but she can’t stop looking at me, even while she showers.
I will make her a very bad girl; I will make her beg.
I know she’ll find a way to ask me for it, and I can’t wait to see how.
Once Calla is done with her shower, she walks toward me where I am sitting on the bed, naked.
She doesn’t pick through the silky nightwear nearby—she just climbs in next to me nude, still damp in places, and smelling like a sweet flower.
Damn it.
I was already hard from the time she shed her clothes to enter the shower, even though I looked away most of the time, and I’m even harder now.
With Calla’s soft, warm body next to me, it’ll be tough not to give in to what we both want. But I have an idea.
CALLA
“Sit on my face,” I hear Jason say, but I’m not sure I heard correctly.
“What?”
“I said, get up here and put that sweet, warm puss over my mouth, now.”
My core starts getting even slicker. His words and the way he growled them left me no desire but to follow his command as my middle buzzes to life.
I climb over him, anticipating the feel of his tongue on my clit, the anticipation driving me wild. When the tip of his tongue finally reaches me, I buck a little, the contact sending a jolt of pleasure through me. I am eager, and unbelievably sensitive there.
He flickers his tongue, getting me used to him enough so that I don’t contract and pulse with every touch. When I finally settle in, I let him work me, relaxing and just enjoying the light tease of his probing tongue instead of riding his face.
“Yes, Calla, you’re dripping.”
The buzz of his voice and the feel of his breath and mouth so near my mound as he speaks drives me even more nuts.
Soon, he stops skillfully trailing his tongue over my hungry folds and closes his mouth over me, covering more ground with both his lips and the fleshy, muscular organ between them.
I start moving over his warm, enveloping mouth, unable to stop myself anymore.
My buttocks clenches as I swing my nether lips over his oral cavity and let both of us do the work of stringing me tighter and tighter with pleasure until my body contracts and releases, and I am coming all over him. He sucks me until I can take it no more.
“Oh my god,” I breathe, still stuck in my position in the aftershocks of my climax.
I don’t know how long I stay there above him, but I’m aware of his hands caressing my lower back and my butt cheeks, gently rubbing and massaging me.
As sated as I feel, I still have the desire to have his hard cock in me, and I know in a few more moments, I’ll be ready for it; my ache for his throbbing organ inside of me is returning full force.
I climb off of him, hoping he’ll flip me on my back and plunge into me from above while I watch his broad, muscled chest above me as we reconnect. I look forward to moving my hands down to his tight buttocks, and feeling it clench and unclench as he pushes himself in and out of me, but he doesn’t do any of that.
There’s no question he wants to—even if he hadn’t just licked me to climax and his cock wasn’t rock hard and staring at me in its deliciously aroused form right now; I know he’s not hard to convince when it comes to fucking me.
Yet there he is, remaining on his back with his eyes closed as if that cock wasn’t made for riding. Is that what he’s waiting for? For me to take initiative and climb right on?
I bring my lips to his neck and hear him gasp. A smile escapes me. I turn the kiss into a slight bite as I turn toward him and grab one of his hands, guiding it to my hot, wet center. I make his fingers play with me, and finally, when I can’t take it anymore as he refuses to take over, I say, “Make love to me, Jason. I need you to shove your cock in me and…”
He is on top of me and positioning himself to enter me before I can finish.
All I can do is gasp in pleasure when he becomes part of me and starts massaging my slick valley with his perfect rod.
God, it has never felt this good with Scott. Never.
But I sure as hell can’t tell any of them that.
Jason thrusts into me in a way that seems to hit two different pleasure zones, as if my clit is being stimulated all over again, yet he’s also reaching that g-spot I heard about.
As he fucks me, and I feel his orgasm growing, I realize I am indeed about to orgasm from two different places at once, and when that thunderous climax comes, I let out such a loud cry of pleasure, neighbors probably hear beyond these undoubtedly soundproof walls.
God, I love Jason.
I mean, the way he fucks, of course.
How the hell can I go back to what I had before after this?
I simply have to, somehow, but Jason has spoiled me.
Well, at least I fully understand how someone came up with the term ‘mind-blowing sex’—my head feels like it’s about to explode whenever he and I are one.
11
JASON
“My, my, my. That was quite extraordinary, my dear lovebirds.”
Somehow, I always manage to forget that creep is watching.
Calla shoots me an almost unreadable look, but I detect vulnerability there. Dare I say, sadness? We are nearly there indeed.
“Soon, you will both go back to your homes and lives, but something tells me that something has changed for you, Calla. Care to share?”
“Go fuck yourself, Voice.”
The person behind the voice laughs and so do I, but I have to stifle it.
“Oh I do, Calla, and you have facilitated some amazing moments of such. But can I just tell you how delicious you are from both the front and back? Your body is so tight, so toned and healthy and feminine. And I imagine oh so soft, right, Jason? Those beautiful perky breasts, the way her tight little bottom tightens more as she rides you, and all her marvelous other parts.”
I find myself filling with rage. God, I hope this jerk’s not planning on touching her himself.
“Don’t worry, Jason—I’m not interested in sleeping with Calla, but there are a few more positions I’d like to see her in. I know you’d both like to get out of here, although I suspect not as passionately as before, and you should take the time you have left to figure out what you’re going to do after, what you’re going to tell the authorities and such. Personally, I don’t care what you say—they won’t find me, and I doubt they’ll even look properly once you two show up looking well. But you must now figure out what
to do about Calla’s boyfriend, I’m sure. You have about sixty more hours here. Make it interesting for me, and you’ll get out sooner.
“Oh, and I believe it goes without saying that you shouldn’t try anything if you want to make it out of here alive. I know you might want to look like a hero at some point, Jason, but don’t be stupid. You will both be released unharmed once you’ve settled things amongst yourselves and given me my final show. But first, I have a surprise for you, and I will need you both to put these blindfolds on and face the wall—same wall as the head of the bed—and do not turn your head. Put in the ear plugs when I give the word.”
I look at Calla after we watch two black pieces of cloth float into the room from an opening in the high-ceilinged roof, which promptly slides back closed.
“Don’t, Jason,” the voice says, just as I am beginning to ponder the possibilities. “Do know that I’m also aware of the whereabouts of all members of your families. Repercussions can go far beyond you two if you anger me.”
I go toward the blindfolds, hand Calla one, then we both head to the wall, kneel, and start putting them on.
“Good boy. Good girl. Now put those ear plugs in, stay in place and count to sixty, and then you can take everything out or off.”
We do as we are told—at least, I do, since I can’t see Calla. No alarm bells have rung, so I figure once we do exactly what this guy says, we stay safe, and then the guy will do what he said and let us out. I simply trust that he won’t kill us once it’s all over.
I can’t hear Calla with the earplugs in, and I doubt it really matters if we count in sync or not, so when I reach sixty and pull out my earplugs and grab off that blindfold, I’m not surprised to see that Calla reached sixty first and is already free of the items.
She is staring in the opposite direction, however, and she looks surprised by something.
My eyes follow her openmouthed stare, and I find myself briefly frozen in a state of shock.
Rolled or dropped into the room somehow was Scott—blindfolded, and with his hands and feet tied.
END OF PART ONE
SYNOPSIS
Things have taken a turn for young Calla and Jason, and billionaire Errol Jameson has decided to add a twist.
This is part 2 of a love triangle erotic romance told in three parts.
DEVIANT
THREE’S A COMPANY
By
ROWENA
THE BILLIONAIRE VOYEUR SERIES
BOOK TWO
Copyright © 2014 by Rowena
All rights reserved.
CONTENTS
1: JASON
2: CALLA
3: SCOTT
4: SCOTT
5: JASON
6: CALLA
7: SCOTT
8: CALLA
9: JASON
“You have about sixty more hours here. Make it interesting for me, and you’ll get out sooner.”
- Voice
1
JASON
So picture this: Calla and I just got done having amazing sex not more than ten minutes ago.
The creepy voice dude gave us like five minutes to rest and enjoy the afterglow before he reminded us that he had watched the whole thing, and then told us to blind and deafen ourselves with the blindfolds and ear plugs that magically drop into the room. We don’t get to get dressed or shower or anything.
So the smell of sex is in the air, Calla and I are both pretty much naked, and suddenly, surprise! There’s Scott, right there in the room with us.
Holy shit is my first thought. This is not good, not good at all.
Way to throw a wrench in my plans, you sick fuck!
I imagine our captor watching us from behind some wall or on some TV screen, grinning gleefully like Michael Jackson in Thriller as he watched that horror movie while jamming popcorn in his mouth.
I hope the freak chokes on it. That’s probably what he’s doing right now at the sight of us in this situation: choking the chicken in his sick arousal.
Talk about awkward.
I mean, what would you do?
Calla stares at Scott for a few seconds before rushing over to him, and I think I whisper a curse out loud this time. What the hell is she doing? Does she not realize what this scene looks like, as is?
Calla might have already forgotten what we did, but I haven’t, and I can’t bear to face Scott, knowing what Calla’s juicy lips look like up close and having her essence drip all over me. And so recently!
She better not remove Scott’s blindfold yet. Or that gag.
I look around for some clothes to throw on quickly, to try make it a little less obvious what Calla and I have been up to.
Then, I guess Calla finally remembers she has no clothes on herself and what the whole scene looks like, in general, because she makes a grab for her bathrobe instead of beginning to release Scott from his restraints. Then she probably figures out the smell of me is all over her, so she quickly shoves the robe aside and rushes toward the shower.
Atta girl—let’s use some common sense here.
I grab a pair of the ear plugs that got dropped in and stick them in Scott’s ear, ignoring his flopping protest. Then I join Calla in a quick body scrub under the spray in the name of freshening up, and then endure that stupid air dryer.
When we’re done, I see Calla look at her small pile of dirty clothes from the first day, and I know what she’s thinking.
She grabs her jeans from the pile, figuring they’re still clean enough, I guess, and proceeds to put on a set of gorgeous matching undies—courtesy of our resident freak. She pulls her jeans on over those lacy panties, and then pulls the short silk purple robe over her fancy matching bra.
It actually isn’t a bad look overall—she looks fairly casual and definitely presentable—not like I just fucked her brains out at all.
Her face looks fresh and clean and beautiful, and her hair is still damp, but no big deal, I guess. Besides, what can we do? We can only wait under that dryer for so long. But then I watch Calla quickly twist her hair into one large braid.
Now, with her complete lack of makeup, that single braid, those jeans and her ‘top,’ she doesn’t look anything like the vixen of the past few days at all, and I start to get sad that there’s a good chance I won’t see the expanse of her beautiful tight glowing skin again as she rushes back over to Scott like it’s the first time.
She waits for me, since I’ve been watching her get ready the whole time instead of getting ready myself, but do you blame me for getting one last look at her perky nude breasts, her flat bare stomach, and those round butt cheeks in a lacy thong?
I grab one of those white T-shirts provided for me and a pair of the silk boxers and throw those on—no way I’m putting on the jeans I came here in—these soft boxers are the shit.
Then I watch as Calla put on probably the greatest act of her life.
2
CALLA
When I first see Scott, relief and joy floods me, and I run over to him immediately.
Everything suddenly comes back to me: this is the man of my dreams before me, the love of my life, my first, last and everything.
The man I’m supposed to marry is now here in this crazy situation with me, and while I’m ecstatic to see him, I hate that he has now been involved and is no longer safe on the outside.
Now poor Scott is stuck here with me and…
Fuck.
I am flooded with guilt when I remember that Jason is here too, and once Jason fills my consciousness, everything we’ve done comes back to me.
I wonder how much Scott knows? Has the voice already filled him in? Did the voice already tell him the next set of terms?
I guess I’ll find out as soon as I take his blindfold off, which I’m not about to do just yet, still being naked and all.
I’m just about to grab some clothes when it hits me—can he smell the sex in the air?
If he did, he’d say something, no doubt, when the time comes.
; Then again, the human brain is good at fooling us—if he smells it, maybe he could easily convince himself that it wasn’t possibly sex—Jason and I wouldn’t.
Either way, time to wash away as much of it as I can!
Once Jason and I shower and get ready, I think about what to say as I run over to Scott again.
I peel off his blindfold and watch his eyes light up at the sight of me.
“Calla!” he says with such relief and love and happiness that it lifts my heart, and I am suddenly laughing and crying all at once.
I’ve never seen him look so happy to see me!
We’ve been together for so long, I guess the novelty wore off—we’ve been a couple for nine years and hung out a lot before he went off to college. Now that he’s getting his bachelor’s, we still don’t go more than two weeks without seeing each other.
His absence is painful still, but I realize some couples have it much worse and go months without seeing each other. They probably look like Scott does right now when they finally do.
I also know it’s because of extenuating circumstances—after the first day of not hearing from me, Scott must have been worried sick. Then, for days to go by without hearing from me? He must have thought the absolute worst—there’s no way I’d just disappear without a note like that unless something terrible had happened.
I wonder how far his thoughts went in his worry—did he realize how much more he loved me in my absence? Did it make him think he should keep a closer eye on me? Did he feel like proposing to me now more than ever? I mean, nine years together for Christ’s sake, since we were teenagers!
I have to tell him about what happened here at some point, I know, but now is definitely not the time. I just need to coax out of him how much he knows and then go from there.