by Angel Payne
Only then did she dare a glance down. David still buried his shaft inside her, easing it in and out, its root gleaming with her juices. Right next to it was Kress’s erection, covered in a condom and thick layers of lube, the velvet head kissing her back entrance.
Shit-shit-shit. She didn’t know if she could be this naughty.
She curled her fingers, desperately grabbing the chains that still held her wrists. And gulped.
“You’re so fucking amazing,” David said. “What a good girl. Let him in, D. Let him in.”
She drowned the last of that with her shriek, as Kress finally breached her back opening with his steel-hard length. The size of him, in addition to David’s occupation of her already, felt like she was being ripped down the middle, torn and—
She hissed hard as he pulled out, then plunged back in. He went deeper this time. Lube sloshed inside her ass. Her thighs quivered from the pain.
“Christ,” David declared. “Christ, this is good. He’s almost all the way in, sweetheart. Shit, you’re amazing. The hard part’s nearly over. Then this is going to feel incredible for you, I promise.”
“Fuck. Off.”
The bastards should’ve been glad they’d secured her arms. Both of their laughing faces would have brand-new black eyes otherwise. Making their arrogance tougher to take was the realization, over the next couple of minutes, that David’s words proved more than empty platitudes. Dasha didn’t want to prove him right. She wanted to hang on to her fury and tension, though admitted the stuff was a shield to hide what really happened in her heart as she gazed at her two dark lovers. Feeling the outrage was easier, way easier, than letting in the adoration that flooded her heart. The stuff wound deeper in as she watched their faces, both awash in passion, and their bodies, sleek portraits of the pleasure she gave them.
The pleasure she didn’t want to share.
Oh…God…that she couldn’t share… Could she?
“Oh.” She sighed as the first nibble of fire teased at her core. “Oh,” she repeated as the flame caught hold deeper in. The hot tendrils of it ignited her from the waist down. The feeling was, even to her thesaurus brain, indescribable.
“That’s it.” Kress’s voice was one part encouragement and ten parts authority. “That’s it, D. Take me deep.”
Her eyelids started to flutter. Her breath came faster as her whole womb shook. Deep, indeed. It was like their cocks were sticks, rubbing against each other to kindle a secret forest inside her, faster and harder, setting flames free to consume her vagina, her pelvis, her pussy, her clit.
“Holy…ohhhh…” Her voice sounded lost in a great wood, wandering through the inflamed mess but never wanting a way out. “Wh-what’s happening?”
“Enjoy, sweetheart.” David had never more been her lifeline to reality while at the same time never more her commanding lord in this surreal sexual journey. “He’s helping me get you at the G-spot. Just let the fire take you.”
How did he know? She didn’t care. Hell, she could barely think. Her whole being became pure feeling, complete surrender, total immersion in how their bodies filled her. She shook everywhere as the inferno raged, blinding and resplendent.
“Oh—my—”
Words fled as the first inner orgasm rocked her. Her head jacked back, her arms strained, and the world exploded in shades of red and orange and white. It was heaven, hell, and everything in between. She’d never come like this, her pleasure going on and on, without an end in sight. She couldn’t get enough and yet, it felt like too much, too much, too—
“Damn.” From somewhere in the fire came Kress’s dark eruption. His fingers twisted tighter to her thigh. His cock drove deeper, harder into her ass. “Damn…yes, D.”
With an equally conquering bellow, David came too. He kept pumping even after Kress slid out, repositioning himself for maximum contact with her clit. Again, it was exactly what she needed. Her next orgasm wasn’t just fire but flood. David confirmed that, uttering past gritted teeth, “That’s it, baby. Soak me. Give it all to me. Don’t hold anything back.”
Right. Like that was an option. Now it wasn’t just her pussy that wept. She was shattered. Exposed. Completely drained of any defenses, physical or emotional. As the sobs racked her, dual hands worked to free her arms. Then the guys cradled her together, their dark bodies encasing her as she shuddered and wondered how she’d ever gone through life without knowing what it was like to have this. No, not this. Them. These two brave, giving, passionate, beyond-incredible men. They held on, stroking and silent, as she dissolved from the inside out. Her body trembled from the joy they’d given it. Her heart burst with gratitude and love.
She choked as the comprehension rocked her.
Ohhhh, shit.
She loved them.
Okay, that wasn’t a revelation where David was concerned. He’d had her heart long before he’d commanded her body. But Kress—Kress, with his dorky metaphors, macho-man strut, and crazy-ass protective streak—Oh God…in just ten days, he’d roped her down and made her fall hard too. Hard.
“Hey,” said the object of her thoughts, cupping her shoulder with a big hand. “You’re still shivering.”
“Just noticed the same thing,” David said. Since she faced him, he kissed her on the lips. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Yeah.” She muttered it fast. Probably too fast. But getting the words out was a miracle enough. “Yeah, I’m—” She dipped her head and burrowed deeper between them. More words begged for release. Her head wrestled them back. Screw it, her heart flung back. “I just…love you guys.”
She kept her head down, hoping it sounded like something a subbie spilled in the afterglow of a typical bondage-ménage-orgasms-to-end-all-orgasms hour. Just the usual, flippant statement as you rested between the two hard, sweaty bodies of one’s adoring Doms.
“Now that’s something to sample into the next hit single.” Kress pressed closer along her back as he grabbed a soft towel from a supply in the nightstand, then gently cleansed her.
“Agreed,” David said, shifting his lips to her forehead. “And for the record, I love you too.”
Though the words lightened her heart, she didn’t reply. Extended conversation felt like too little for this moment, like focusing on a star when you’d just discovered the universe. She was glad David and Kress seemed to agree. She lay there, yearning for this moment to really become a universe and stretch into forever, until her brain went to fuzz, and she fell into the bliss of sleep.
* * * *
She woke up many hours later from the overriding need to pee, a condition that made slipping out from under the guys a task tantamount to peeling an orange from the inside out. She almost giggled aloud from the musing. Now Kress really was rubbing off on her. And she had to get over it. He was going to be out of the picture soon. As soon as they tracked and found the weirdo behind the texts, he’d be on the next plane to Miami, and they’d all return to life as normal. Whatever “normal” meant anymore.
She lingered in the bathroom after doing her business, lost to that rumination and all the conflicted feelings around it. It wasn’t that David wasn’t enough. Her Dom was more than she’d ever dreamed of in a lover, a friend, a leader. He’d opened the door to a world that was Oz, Middle Earth, and Wonka’s Chocolate Factory combined, only better. All the magic, none of the calories. Trouble was, he’d pushed the door wide enough for Kress to fit too. There’d be a horrid emptiness for a while without Mr. Moridian around. She knew David would be the first to back her on that too. She knew it because she began to think of all the time they’d been together. So many times, these ten days had felt more like ten months, even years. The three of them just…meshed. And the magic was about way more than the sex…
Images filled her mind. The scenes ranged from serious to sublime to outright silly. She loved watching the two men laugh—and fight—with each other. They’d nearly come to blows the other night about whether to watch Ghost Hunters or Deadliest Warrior. But they agre
ed about many more things, stupid shit like German beer and Nike over Reebok…and not-so-stupid stuff like their mutual obsession for finding out who threatened her life.
They were both aggravating, stubborn, and dominating about it—and smart and funny and passionate…and dominating about all that too.
And she really wasn’t getting back to sleep now.
She rounded the corner back into the bedroom and indulged in another long gaze at her men. They formed a strange hit single of their own now, with their dueling snore rhythms. She smiled while throwing on the robe she’d found in the bathroom, then turned and headed upstairs. In the bedroom, she stole a glance at the clock while she changed into some sweats, a plain white T-shirt, and some flip-flops. 4:12 a.m. She felt another wicked grin coming on, remembering the last time she’d been sleepless around this time and what she’d done about it…and what David had done about that.
Fat chance he was going to catch her sneaking in an orgasm now. Number one, she’d learned that lesson. Number two, everything between her thighs and buttocks still throbbed in memory of what it had been through recently. But it was a beautiful pain, accompanied by the best memories of her life. To paraphrase Mary, a bondage that had set her free. A valley that had climbed to the most breathtaking cliff…a song that beat at her soul now, begging for release.
Without hesitation, she scooped up her guitar. She needed to be outside. For some reason, that was where she composed her best power ballads. And there was a full moon tonight, which meant the back garden was going to be beautiful.
By a small miracle, she found a can of green tea in the “magic beer fairy” refrigerator and popped it open after pulling a chaise to the middle of the garden lawn. The moon indeed made everything magical. It shone through the branches of the old magnolia tree so the shadows formed a lattice of light on the grass. A little fountain was nestled at the base of the tree. Its streams pattered against marble cherubs, comprising the only sound around right now. Even the cicadas slumbered as the night held on to its last minutes.
Dasha picked out a tentative tune. The music flowed naturally right now. The words played harder to get.
She tried a tentative verse. “Loving you both…” That ended on a fast grimace. “Ew. Disgusting, party of one!”
She started strumming again. “Don’t know how to say…thought of you both today…uggghhh! And now, everyone, we’ve become an episode of Barney and Friends.”
The fountain gave her an impervious answer.
The footsteps on the patio weren’t so subtle. They came steady, sure and even—like the man to whom they belonged.
Her heartbeat did a fast-forward, until she realized that was exactly what David wanted her to do. “You still slinking around in the shadows, Pennington?” she cracked. “Fine; you scared me for a second. I’ll admit that much if you swear to silence about the Barney—”
She tried to suck in air for a scream. But that just helped the cause of the figure now consuming her vision, a stranger clothed completely in black, including his hands, feet, and ski-masked head. Her sharp intake pulled in more of the stuff on the cloth he rammed into her face. It smelled sweet. Really sweet. But artificial, like plastic. It overpowered her in nausea. But the bile wouldn’t come up. Terror rammed it back.
Not David. Not David. Oh God, not David. Or Kress.
The fountain stopped gurgling. Then the clouds and the moon faded, just like the energy in her arms, her legs, her whole body. They went dark, numb, powerless.
And then the world itself went black.
Chapter Twenty-One
David yearned to succumb to exhaustion again. Since New York, his brain had been jacked on nonstop stress of one kind or another. It’d been heaven to pass out next to Dasha, knowing Kress literally had her back. With that assurance, he’d let his senses fall into obliteration. And damn, this bed was really comfortable.
Only one thing could’ve coaxed him to move at all. Mmmm. Dasha was where he always wanted her, close and warm. He smiled, running a hand over her flesh, loving how she shifted a little beneath his touch, then scooted nearer. Maybe, he mused, they could rouse Moridian too and think of some creative ways to greet the day together—
“Whoa! Gaahh!”
“Ahh!” he echoed. Moridian was roused, of that he’d almost gotten firsthand experience. He gaped across the tangled bedding now separating them. “Dude. Man. Sorry. I thought you were—”
“Yeah, yeah, got it.” Kress tried to tame the rat’s nest of his hair, while throwing his brilliant stare around the room. “Speaking of which—”
“Yeah. Hear you.” He wrapped the sheet around himself and called out, “D? Hey, D, where are you?”
He got up and did a sweep of the bathroom, then even peeked around the corner, into the dungeon. The dark shadows gave up only the smell of disinfectant. Raife and Philip had left things spotless.
By the time he got back to the bedroom, Kress had yanked on his briefs. “I don’t hear my favorite soprano yet.”
“I think she’s gone Dasha-style AWOL again.”
“Okay.” It came out nearly as a question. “So you’re gonna call the ball on this one. Do we let her play hermit again, or do I really pay attention to the tickle in my gut this time?”
He tugged on his pants. “You get tickles?”
“Not often.” The agent stepped into his jeans. “And not the good kind.”
David did a double take at the guy’s developing scowl. Kress wasn’t kidding. Not even by a little bit. He forgot about locating his shirt and ordered his brain straight to the comfort of “simplest explanation usually wins.”
“She probably went upstairs to shower and change. Probably didn’t want to wake us.” He couched the last two words in air quotes.
“Yeah,” Kress muttered. “You’re probably right.”
He peered harder at his friend. “Okay, the last time you wore that look, we were in Gap Kids before the shit went down at the mall.”
“That’s the last time I had the tickle.”
He didn’t waste another second to turn and bound up the stairs to ground level. Once he saw the normal world all appeared—well, normal—he forced a calming breath. He was going to find Dasha, give her a good-morning kiss to curl her toes, then hit the intercom for the dungeon bedroom and give Moridian shit for being such a drama queen. After that, maybe the two of them could convince D to join them in making it a really good morning.
As he went up the back staircase, he took care to skip the third and sixth steps, knowing by now that they squeaked. A little grin slid out as he stopped at the top. This place was actually starting to feel like home. Despite the insanity that’d forced them here, Dasha and he had started building something in this hideaway, a something that’d turned them both into better, more courageous people. And when Kress got added to the picture…Christ; small cities had been lighted on less electricity.
No wonder he smiled at those squeaky steps.
No wonder his pulse clamored at him to find D.
He got to their bedroom only to find it empty. The robe from the dungeon’s bathroom lay sprawled on the bed. The bathroom was dark and silent too.
His heart rate spiked again.
“Okay, get a goddamn grip on yourself.”
Her guitar was missing too. That explained a lot. So Miss Music recluse had snuck off somewhere. He’d just find her, assure himself that she was all right, then leave her be for a while. His johnson could wait a few hours. His head, and its need to confirm her safety, couldn’t.
A peek into the solarium yielded only lazy motes in the early-day sun. The pool deck turned up nothing too. That left the back garden. David mentally kicked himself for not starting there. Of course that'd be her choice; it was where the senator had gone public about rededicating himself to their relationship. And the space was sufficiently froufrou for that poetic songwriter’s side of D, with the fountain and the flowers and—
She wasn’t there either.
He almost turned and went back inside. But then his body kicked a new sensation at him.
A tickle, deep in his gut. That made him want to puke.
“Shit.” He stalked across the patio, into the grass where one of the chaises had been dragged. “Calm down. Calm the fuck down.” It’s not like someone can waltz past the security system, get past the billion cameras between the perimeter and the house, then just wait for Dasha to stroll by and—
A weird smell teased. It was the faintest thing, but he knew it didn’t belong here. Sweet but not floral. His toe hit an overturned can of green tea. He picked it up and sniffed the opening. Nope, not the smell. He continued on, following the tracks in the lawn leading to the chaise, noticing they looked fresh. So did the nick in the lounger’s armrest, which he stooped to look at now. Something had to have rammed the wood hard, he thought, to break the finish like that. He found himself frowning at the chaise’s cushion too. It was knocked askew, the bottom part hanging over the side of the chaise, like whoever had been here had slid off the thing.
Or been dragged off.
Calm. Down.
But then his stare caught on something else. Something in the ferns and flowers surrounding the fountain. Yeah, the fountain right next to the stone bench he’d envisioned in his little I’m-in-love-with-you-D fantasy. It couldn’t be. You’re just seeing things.
His legs, now disembodied from the corkscrew in his chest, somehow carried him across the grass. He didn’t want to look. He had to look.
Just get it the hell over with, you stupid shit. You do know it’s not what you think, right? Seriously, who puts a guitar in a flower bed?
“Fuck!”
The trouble was, Dasha’s prized Taylor acoustic wasn’t placed carefully in the foliage. It had been thrown there. In haste. As in, ditching-the-dead-weight haste.