by Anna Zaires, Pepper Winters, Skye Warren, Lynda Chance, Pam Godwin, Amber Lin
He hissed again. He wouldn’t come this time. Not for a while. “Enough.”
The door dinged open behind him. The suite, cool and dark, reflected in the mirror. An empty bed, waiting to be filled.
* * *
Hailey stumbled into the hotel suite, the pointy heels of her shoes tilting sideways in the plush carpet. She’d already had an orgasm in the limo. She’d tasted Lock’s come, cooling on his skin. But instead of feeling sated, she felt strung up, like a live wire in the puddle that was Krist’s unfulfilled desire.
Lock’s clothes were already undone, and he shrugged out of them now, the soft leather and torn cotton sloughing from his body like water. His cock was already hard again, standing proudly from the cloud of black hair at the base. Lock was accustomed to standing in the limelight. He did it now, basking in her appreciation. While Krist waited patiently. How long had he waited? Longer than this night.
Fair play. Everyone gets a turn. These were rules Hailey taught in class, but how could she if she didn’t follow them herself?
It wasn’t only logic that drew her to Krist. With his colorful skin and eyes filled with longing, he made a sexy sight. Soulful.
“Get on the bed,” she murmured.
His eyes widened. He glanced at Lock, who watched back with a hooded look. No reprieve there. No answers. He could take what she gave him or get nothing at all.
Krist slunk to the bedroom, looking sullen, resentful. She could have believed it, almost. Except for his obedience, in a man born to rebel. Every hard line of his body promised defiance, but with Lock he was submissive. Borderline meek.
With her too. And it turned her on to see him that way. To see him follow her order and then wait. Her sex clenched in undefined need, but which man could fulfill her, the one raising his eyebrow in challenge or the one waiting on the bed? She knew the answer to that question, at least. The man who gave her every single thing she’d never been able to ask for. The one who took all the things she’d wanted to give.
But tonight wasn’t about her. It wasn’t even about Lock.
She followed Krist into the bedroom and climbed onto the high, plush bedding. It felt like kneeling on a cloud between his legs. He stared at her, waiting. Anger flashed in his eyes, sweet and vulnerable. Did he know how much he gave away with every taunting phrase or bitter smile? Even Lock didn’t know. He poured his heart into his songs and called it an act. He claimed her, body and soul, and called it a contract.
No, they didn’t know. Even she didn’t, really. They, all of them, saw what they wanted to see, and in Krist’s waiting body, she found her reprieve.
She tugged at the hem of his distressed jeans. “Take these off.”
His gaze went to Lock again, over her shoulder. Hailey felt his presence, knew he’d followed her into the room. Whatever look he gave Krist must have been assent, because the jeans came off. Nothing underneath. Nothing but bare bronzed skin sprinkled with dark brown hair, startling without a drop of ink. His feet had words twined around them, the y’s and f’s jutting out like thorns on a vine. But the long shins and rectangle bone of his knee, they were bare. And the furred thighs were bare too…and there. Smooth purple skin underlaid with veins. That had never been touched by a needle. Without the colorful tattoos she was used to on him, he looked far more naked. Far more innocent.
Closer to her level, and it was a relief after looking up at Lock these past days.
She skated her palms along the insides of his legs, enjoying his sharp intake of breath. She framed the base of his cock with her hands. It bobbed gently. The tip glistened, wet and needy. This, at least, she understood. There were no clauses to read, no bottom line to sign. Just a man in his need. Open. Honest.
And only possible because Lock stood behind her. Because he’d orchestrated this entire thing, and that made it okay. It pissed her off to think she was that dependent on him. And yet it was only when his fingers stroked the back of her neck that she bent to kiss the crown of Krist’s cock. Only when Lock’s fingers tangled in her hair and pressed her down did she swallow more of the pulsing length.
Lock’s voice rumbled against her ear. “God, he needs it, doesn’t he? Can you feel it? Touch him and see how much he needs this.”
Only then did she cup the tender sac beneath his erection, velvet-soft skin pulled taut. Krist’s body jerked at her touch. He let out a groan that filled the space around her, wispy air while she still had Lock to ground her.
She set a pace to please him, to give him peace, and Lock muttered his approval. Krist was close; she could tell by the harsh salty flavor of his precum coating her tongue, by the small, urgent thrusts of his hips. Lock’s hand left her neck, and she mourned the loss of him, the heat. He leaned over Krist instead, tracing thick black lines on his chest.
Krist’s eyes fell shut on a moan so heavy with need she didn’t know how Lock couldn’t hear it. Though maybe he did hear it then. Maybe he’d always heard it, because he didn’t act surprised. He looked solemn, really. Accepting, as he walked his fingers up Krist’s chest. As he slipped two fingers inside Krist’s mouth and watched him suck.
Krist’s hands clenched and opened on the bed, spastic and uneven. On any other man, with a mouth on his cock, he would have been holding back from grabbing. From thrusting. But not this time. This time it was Lock he wanted to grab, and she knew that because she wanted to grab Lock too. She wanted to press her hand to the back of his neck and push him down—the same way he’d done for her. To make him do what he really wanted.
Neither of them needed to force the issue. Lock was ready. For this, at least, Lock was willing. He pried Krist’s mouth open with those two fingers and bent to kiss him. Though kiss may have been the wrong word. It was more like an assault, an invasion, and Krist’s whole body strung up tight to receive him. His cock pulsed in her mouth, preparing her.
On impulse she slid a finger beneath his rounded flesh, down to the pucker beneath. Between the tongue in his mouth and the finger pressing against his asshole, it was too much for Krist. He bucked and exploded on her tongue. She swallowed the warm come he sprayed in her mouth, and pressed more firmly until warmth hugged her fingertip.
He seemed to go on forever that way, gasping into Lock’s mouth and coming into hers. Or maybe it only felt that way as she watched them kiss, his desperation and Lock’s gratification. Lopsided and bittersweet. It was how she must look with Lock too, and so, when Krist finished, she licked his softening cock gently, thoroughly, until he was clean. She rested her cheek against his thigh and closed her eyes.
Because she knew exactly how it felt to want something you couldn’t have. There was no fair play for love, just for sex. And everyone might get a turn, but no one could keep Lock if he didn’t want to stay.
Chapter Fourteen
The rough stubble surrounding Krist’s mouth abraded Lock’s lips, but he didn’t care. He liked it. The burn and then the slick heat of tongue, soothing. The guttural moans vibrating against the hand he’d splayed against Krist’s chest. Lock dug his fingernails into the swirling lines there, like he could wring a note from this beautiful body that would smooth out the discord in his head.
Want. Take. He’d lived his life that way for so long, until it almost killed him. Until all his wanting turned bottomless and all he could do was drink and take and fuck everyone else. He’d never stop wanting, but the taking had stopped. He had control now. Only, nothing about the feel of Krist writhing beneath him felt controlled. It felt wild and reckless. And inevitable. A rock slide of lust and need. Hailey’s muffled hum of pleasure chipped away at the last guardrail.
She lay spent and naked. Sprawled over Krist’s long leg, her cheek resting against his hip, watching him. Every soft inch of her, an invitation to destruction. A body made for giving.
“Come up here.”
She pushed onto her hands and knees, crawled to the head of the bed, knelt beside Krist’s shoulder and waited.
“Do you know what he needs now?”
He wondered if she’d go there. If she could take both of them at the same time. He wanted the tight grip of her ass, Krist buried deep in her cunt. He shifted on the bed, the phantom drag of knuckles through denim making his cock pulse.
She skimmed her fingers down his arm and covered his hand with her own. Held it down, over Krist’s thundering heart. “He needs you.”
He sucked in a breath, gut punched. He’d known, but it had never been said out loud. So simply, so plainly. Krist turned his face into the pillow, trying and failing to hide the look of longing. The desperate want. Lock couldn’t ignore it; it was so much like his own.
Would it break them, to do this? Break him? No contract. No plan. Just taking.
Hailey squeezed his hand again and then brushed her fingers over Krist’s cheek. He leaned into her touch, and their eyes met. It was like writing a song together, this connection. Fumbling toward the chorus, a jumble of noise, and then yes, of course, music. Loud and violent, but theirs. Hailey smoothing the harsh edges. A bridge.
He’d loved Krist for what felt like his whole life. He could give him this.
* * *
Hailey ran her fingers down Lock’s forearm, light touches meant to soothe. He was coming apart right in front of her. She knew how to reach him, though, with some ancient instinct. It wasn’t even a woman to a man. It was a light in the dark, water running over rock until it lost its jagged edge. She was the water here—the fluid, transient thing. The one who would be gone soon enough.
But Lock, God. He was a rock, from the tension of his body and the clench of his jaw. And the impenetrable walls he’d built around him, falling down, crumbling.
“You want both of us?” Lock asked tightly. At the same time, he meant. The shadowed space between them. Those jagged edges come to life.
“Yes,” she whispered.
A black eyebrow rose, shining onyx in the dark. “Are you sure? You sound afraid.”
Said the Pied Piper to his subjects.
But she wasn’t afraid, not really. This was what she’d signed up for. This was why she’d come, at least partly. To experience the wild, crazy things she’d never done before. To ignore the responsibility to her sister for three days. No, not afraid. She looked over the inky waters and wanted to drown.
“I can handle you. Both of you.” Her voice was low and throaty, the song of a seductress. That was what he’d made of her. A siren. A mermaid, and only when he dragged her under would she finally be able to breathe.
“Turn around.” He twisted his fingers to show her. “Put your back against Krist. Let him support you.”
Let him support you. Because Lock wouldn’t.
Krist scooted against the headboard, unashamed in his nakedness. His muscled legs sprawled open across the rumpled bedsheets, dark against light. He was a picture of indolent relaxation, of sumptuous invitation, and she would have believed it. Would have, if she hadn’t reclined against him and felt the rat-a-tat-tat of his heart. A machine gun in his chest, the prelude to devastation.
His cock was thick against the small of her back, nudging insistently with a wet, scribbled line. But that was nothing new. These two were perpetually hard—especially around each other. Didn’t they know? Didn’t they see the furtive glances passed from one man to another? Like notes between classes, those glances. Do you like me? Check yes or no.
“That’s right.” Lock stroked his cock, and it distracted her.
She couldn’t help but stare at the proud length of him. Paper-thin skin rolled over his cock, back and forth, caressing the veined muscle underneath. The head curved, plump and glistening—good enough to eat. She could almost taste him on her tongue, both the salty flavor and the velvet-smooth texture. He knew exactly what she was thinking, judging by his smug expression. And from the way his grip tightened, knuckles turning white.
“Hold her legs.” He didn’t move his gaze from hers while he spoke to Krist. Maybe he couldn’t. In those molten depths she found the doubt he had to hide. She picked up his fears like Easter eggs and collected them in her basket. And carefully broke each one open.
Krist obeyed Lock; of course he did. He hooked his arms underneath her knees, spreading her apart. Without her legs to support her, she slid down his chest, feeling the abrasion of chest hair on her back. Her whole front was exposed, from her flushed cheeks to the damp folds of her sex.
Lock gave himself a few more pulls, rough ones, before joining them. The wicked look in his eyes made her clench around nothing. His gaze focused in on that pink, swollen place. His nostrils flared. Then he dipped his head and licked. Her mind went blank at the first wet touch of his tongue. Any worry or embarrassment was far away, tiny specks on the shoreline. They couldn’t touch her where she floated in bliss.
Each swipe of his tongue made her hips curl up. The helpless undulation of her body pushed against Krist, and he groaned. Again and again, Lock made them writhe. He held them both on the tip of his tongue, like puppets on a string. With Lock as their master, where he was always content to be. Safe, she realized.
Pulling herself out of the drugging sensations, she reached for him. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and then she tugged—hard. His head came up at her command, and hazy eyes slowly focused on hers.
“Fuck me,” she said hoarsely. Because she wanted to tighten around something and his fingers wouldn’t do. Because even he couldn’t hide in his pleasure.
He didn’t have to obey her. Put your hand over her mouth, he could have said. Krist would have obeyed, and so would she. But he reached to the nightstand and grabbed a condom.
“Put it on me,” he said, shoving the packet into her hand.
With trembling fingers she tore the package and fitted the latex to his cock. He stiffened at her first touch but stayed still as she rolled it on. Completely still, even though she sensed the electricity moving through him with every warm touch of her hand. A muscle jumped in his jaw. It was like watching someone bite through the pain. It was like hurting him.
His finger dipped into her wetness and curled up. Checking her. Testing her. The empty foil wrapper fell from her nerveless fingers. Then his cock was there, pushing inside. And God. This position made her feel so full. He couldn’t really be larger now, but he was, he was. He filled her up and expanded outward, pressing against the walls of her sex.
He pulled out, just a small ways. She braced herself, but the first deep thrust made her gasp anyway. Krist gasped too, swearing. Cursing them. His cock flexed behind her. He wanted inside somewhere. Inside her or inside the grip of Lock’s hand. Krist deserved that much, but all he had was the flat plane of her back. Every time Lock pushed inside her, she rocked back to meet him. He used her too, rocking her against him in rhythmic movements that matched his hips. They worked with the same beat, playing a song only they could hear.
Lock kissed her. She was taken aback by the forcefulness of it. Even when he fucked her, when he spanked her, he kissed her tenderly. Always. He teased her mouth open and invited her to respond. Not this time. Now he claimed her. He plunged his tongue inside, invading her mouth the same way his cock did. His tongue felt somehow rougher now and burning ten thousand degrees.
He pulled away—his kiss, his cock. And then in again, fucking her and kissing her in one long, sinuous motion. Krist was there, opening her wider, jacking off against her back. They moved together, a writhing sea of three bodies and one goal.
Lock’s kisses were like waves on the shore, leaving only to return again. She couldn’t breathe in the interim. Didn’t know what to make of it. Rough, coarse kisses. Like he might use with a man. This time when he reached for her, she let her head fall on Krist’s shoulder. Lock wouldn’t have had to do anything. He could have kissed nothing. He could have fucked nothing if he really didn’t want to, but he did. Deep inside, he did.
His expression must have warned Krist before his movements did. She felt the catch of breath from behind her. Lock leaned forward and took Krist’s mouth. Rough and coarse. She trie
d to watch, but she couldn’t. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t interfere. But she felt it anyway. It ran through her body like a tactile thing. Like getting fucked from one more, unseen angle, and she moaned, helpless and already sorry.
It didn’t break them, though. Thank God, it didn’t break them. Lock groaned too, right into Krist’s mouth. And Krist was making small sounds, unformed words. Their movements sped up, frantic and jerky. They were going to come. She could feel Lock’s cock thickening inside her. Krist’s hands tightened on her legs.
She couldn’t even breathe like this, pressed between their bodies. She gasped and tasted their arousal in the air, as if it flowed all around them in a psychedelic sexfest. A color burst of sensation, and she could do nothing but take it. And then pleasure gathered in her center and exploded. It radiated out to her limbs, blinding her and leaving her open.
Lock came next with a hard thrust and a grunt that vibrated from his chest to hers. A sudden warmth on her hip came last as Krist followed them into climax. He lifted her once, twice more, using her body to wring the last of his orgasm onto her skin.
* * *
Hailey’s body was slick beneath him. He pulled out, pulled back. Krist still gripped her thighs so tightly she’d have finger-shaped bruises tomorrow. “Let her go.”
Krist lifted his face from the crook of her neck, held Lock’s gaze as he slid his hands from her knees to her ass. Slow. Hailey’s legs dropped, and she slipped from the cradle of his arms. Boneless, she rolled off the bed and stumbled out of the room. A few seconds later the shower blasted. They’d have a few minutes without her pressed between them, pulling and pushing and urging. His pulse slowed as the endorphins leached out of his bloodstream. Crashing.
“Are you done?” The bed creaked as Krist rolled onto his side, his voice a raw whisper.
“You should go now, before she gets back.” The longer he and Krist were apart, the more he wanted this interlude over, the harder it was to remember why it had felt so right between the three of them.