Like everything with RG, her arse was a thing of rebellious beauty. When she’d told him she had a dragon tat on her arse—the second time they’d ever had anything to do with each other—he’d assumed she meant some clichéd Chinese dragon, or equally clichéd European dragon. When—months later—he finally got to see her naked backside, he’d chuckled at the adorably cute black dragon with large green eyes from the successful kids’ movie. He should have known RG Bailey would never be clichéd.
He hadn’t realized it until now, but that was the very moment he’d fallen in love with her.
All that time thinking he was still in control of his emotional connection to her and he’d been fooling himself. Just as he had been fooling himself that he didn’t need Bran in his life any longer.
Until Bran, until RG, the only emotional connections he’d ever had were toxic, horrific ones. He’d run from the first—his abusive parents. He’d barely survived the second—the debased, desperate connections needed by those living on the streets. And when he’d been saved from that, Meitek had demanded no emotional connection at all.
Opening yourself up to that kind of relationship, one that involved your heart as well as your mind, only ended with complications too tormenting, too painful to endure.
So he’d shut off his heart, denied it, denied how he’d felt for Bran, for RG, thinking it was for the better. Thinking he knew better.
He’d been an idiot.
And nowhere near as smart and detached as he thought he was.
Now, here he was—with RG and her wild, unconventional heart, and Bran…the man he’d run from for fear of breaking him.
Would he do so still?
Could Bran survive Ruckus?
About to fucking find out.
Tearing his lips from hers, he scooped her off the floor and threw her over his shoulder.
She giggled, wriggling against him for a moment.
He smacked her arse.
She laughed. “This is nowhere near as comfortable as it looks in porn.”
“Shush, woman.”
She wriggled some more. “You’re gonna pay for that woman, Ruck—”
He hitched her higher onto his shoulder. “Bedroom, Brannum.”
A small smile played with Bran’s lips before he turned and strode from the room. Ruckus knew firsthand what his bedroom was like—a massive, plushly carpeted area, with one wall made entirely of glass, sweeping million-dollar views of Sydney Harbour, and a king-size bed made from burnished iron, with supple leather shackles concealed at each corner.
He’d bound Bran to the bed using those shackles more than once.
His cock—already engorged to the point of pain—jerked in his trousers.
There’s no coming back from this. Not for you, not for RG, not for Bran. Everything changes after this. Everything.
He followed Bran, RG over his shoulder. More than once she tried to bite him as he walked. She had a thing for biting. She loved to use her teeth on his dick when it was at its hardest. He loved her doing so.
There would be no teeth on his groin tonight though. Tonight, it was about being inside her in the most intimate of ways.
He and Bran, inside her. Together.
A rush of concentrated desire surged through him. His head swam, and as he crossed the threshold into the bedroom, as his gaze fell on the bed he’d spent so many hours in with Bran, he gripped her backside tighter.
His two worlds…his two reasons for existing…his two greatest fears…together. Joined.
Everything changes now.
Without looking at Bran—standing, waiting for instructions—he strode to the bed and lowered RG to it.
“Untie her.” Fire danced in her eyes, along with desperate need. “And then strip her. Make her come at least once with your fingers and mouth.”
“Oh God, yes,” RG rasped, the exclamation barely more than a breath.
Bran looked at Ruckus.
He wants to say something. It’s there. Trapped in his mouth.
“Come here,” Ruckus ordered.
The command left him before he realized it had formed in his head. Bran drew a swift breath, his tongue darting over his lips.
“Brannum.” Ruckus fixed him with a steady look. “Come here.”
He did so, stopping directly in front of him.
He cupped his hand to Bran’s jaw and kissed him. As hungrily as he had RG. As savagely.
Bran moaned, pressing his hips and groin to his.
Fuck, he still knows how to kiss…like he’s fucking your mouth with his tongue and teeth and heart and soul…
The heady thought whispered through his head.
Releasing his own moan, he pulled his lips from Bran’s. “I’m sorry. For ending us without—”
Bran silenced him with a brutal kiss. The aggressive move flooded his cock with hot blood.
“Feelings come later, Rick.” Bran repeated his earlier words, an indecipherable heat flaring in his eyes as the name he knew Ruckus by passed his lips. “Right now it’s about base, elemental pleasure. For the three of us.”
And with that, he returned to RG—who watched them both from the bed, arms still behind her back, her breath shallow—snagged a fistful of her hair, and crushed her lips with his.
Tight, hot desire stabbed into Ruckus at the sight. He stood motionless as Bran worshipped her lips, her throat, her breasts.
He didn’t move as Bran removed her corset, raining a trail of gentle kisses over her shoulders, down her back, over her stomach as he did so.
He stared, transfixed, as Bran removed her skirt, her stilettoes, her fishnet stockings, exploring the skin he’d exposed with his lips.
He watched as Bran parted her thighs and, positioning himself on the mattress between them, traced his tongue up the glistening seam of her pussy.
Base, elemental pleasure. His own words came back to him, spoken in Bran’s smooth, deep voice. For the three of us…
He forced himself to stay still as Bran brought her to climax with his mouth.
He forced himself to deny the need to rip Bran’s expensive trousers from his body and impale his incredible arse.
He forced himself to wait until RG’s moans of pleasure began to fade.
And then, only then, did he move.
Climbing onto the mattress on her right, he nodded at Bran, now looking up at him from between her thighs.
Without needing instruction, Bran did exactly what he wanted him to do.
Hands gentle on RG’s hip, Bran rolled her onto her side and settled himself in front of her, his palm smoothing along her ribs, up to her jaw, and back down to her waist.
She draped her leg over his hip, pressing her groin to his.
A glint of silver where their bodies met caught Ruckus’s eye and his pulse quickened—the teardrop cock ring.
Its rounded point would already be pressing to Bran’s perineum, increasing his pleasure. At the thought of him entering RG while wearing it, Ruckus’s head swam.
His worlds—the one he’d foolishly tried to run away from, and the one he fiercely tried to deny he wanted—were now one.
“Hey? Big boy?”
At RG’s low chuckle, Ruckus lifted his gaze to their faces.
She arched a pierced eyebrow at him, a curious mix of anticipation and amusement in her eyes. “We doing this or what?”
He drew in a slow breath. “Are you sure?”
A smile stretched her lips. “Get your arse into gear, Ruckus. Now.”
He snagged her hair in a tight fist and kissed her.
The soft brush of hair on his arm told him Bran was sucking on her breast once again. Ruckus groaned, cupping it for Bran without tearing his lips from hers.
He ravished her mouth, sliding his hand down over the curve of her waist, the angle of her hipbone, to where her body and Bran’s pressed together.
They both moved for him, enough for his hand to delve between their groins. He played with her clit and pussy first, stroking h
er wet flesh with his fingers before wrapping Bran’s engorged length in a punishing grip.
Bran groaned, the raw sound echoed by RG, who was tugging at Ruckus’s clothes.
When she reached for his fly, he broke their kiss and straightened from the bed.
She looked up at him, eyes clouded with passion, her other hand buried in Bran’s thick dark hair as Bran continued to feast on her breast.
Ruckus dropped her a wink and, wordlessly, removed all his clothes.
“You are one sexy, scary bastard.” She raked a slow gaze over his naked body.
“Perfection,” Bran said, stroking his thumb over her nipple—shining with his saliva—as he too regarded Ruckus.
Ruckus’s chest squeezed. He was far from perfect. He was damaged from being rejected by his drug-using parents as a child, even more so from what he’d done to stay alive while living on the streets, before Meitek took him in. Those years, the depravity…
But these two people, RG and Bran…they brought out something in him he didn’t think he had. Hope.
Without responding to their statements, he pulled open the top drawer beside the bed, withdrew a condom for Bran, the tube of lubricant Bran kept there, and popped the cap.
Both RG and Bran moaned, their noises carnal.
Ruckus’s head swam some more. His cock throbbed. His balls did the same. Returning to the bed, he tossed the condom to Bran.
“Put this on.”
Bran nodded.
Ruckus turned back to RG and trailed a fingertip up the length of RG’s thigh, over the curve of her hip. “When I tell you to take a deep breath,” his heart smashed hard in his chest, “you do. Understand?”
“Yes.”
He looked at Bran. “You’re not allowed to come until I tell you to. Understand?”
A rush of hunger crossed Bran’s face and he nodded.
Ruckus returned the nod. “Sink that fucking amazing cock of yours into her sweet cunt now, Brannum.”
Without delay, Bran snagged the back of RG’s thigh, yanked her knee up until it pressed to the side of his rib cage and, in one single, fluid thrust, buried his erection into her.
Ruckus almost came there and then.
Chapter 7
Pleasure. All around her. Pleasure.
The hot, hard shape of Bran’s body pressed to hers, sliding in and out of her; the reverent strokes of Ruckus’s hand up and down her spine, over her hip, her butt, her inner thigh, her anus…
Pleasure.
She surrendered to it. Reveled in it. Drowned in it.
With every thrust of his hips, Bran propelled her closer to the edge of sexual oblivion. And yet, even as her mind and body grew lost to the sensations consuming her, she prepared herself for more.
Ruckus was behind her, hard body pressed to her back, worshipping her breast, her nipple with his hand, fingering her clit as Bran drove into her over and over.
He whispered words into her ear, husky words of adoration and devotion, and aligned the bulbous crown of his cock to her back entry…
“Breathe for me, gorgeous.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d penetrated her anally, but he was the only one to do so. Trust. She trusted him. She loved him.
She loved him more than she’d ever wanted to. And now that she’d accepted it, she loved him and trusted him even more.
Which made what was about to happen even more intense. Because she knew what Brannum West was to him. She understood what Bran meant to him, why he’d run from their relationship.
She knew it, because she’d done her research. And now, she’d given back to Ruckus the one whom he’d never wanted to leave—Bran.
Ruckus’s warm lips caressed the back of her neck, the curve of her shoulder. His cock pressed to her puckered hole. Cool moisture told RG he’d coated his erection in lubricant. The consideration for her pain and pleasure made her heart beat faster.
“Breathe, RG,” he whispered again.
She did, a long, slow breath.
Bran withdrew from her sex until the edge of his cockhead stretched her pussy wide, and then—poised on the precipice of a moment beyond any she’d ever experienced—Ruckus penetrated her.
And as he did, as the exquisite pain and pleasure erupted through her, radiating from his entry to her body, Bran slowly inched back into her sex.
Their cocks filled her. Two lengths; one stroke.
Pleasure. Consuming. Overwhelming.
Completing her.
“Fuck, I can feel your cock inside her, babe.” Ruckus’s fingers grew fierce on her hip, his breath hot on her shoulder.
Bran didn’t reply. Instead, he took possession of her mouth in a searing kiss.
They both withdrew in perfect harmony, Bran kissing her, Ruckus biting the back of her neck, and then—in equal harmony—embedded themselves deep inside her again.
Fresh pleasure flooded through her. Total and absolute.
She wouldn’t last long. She couldn’t. Not when it was so good. So incredible. So fucking amazing…
Wave after wave of building tension crashed through her. With every powerful thrust from Ruckus and Bran, she was flung closer to the edge. With every sucking nip of their lips and teeth on her lips, her neck, her throat, she burned hotter, higher.
She clung to them both, digging her heel into Bran’s back as she clawed at Ruckus’s hip and butt cheek behind her.
She was theirs, in every way. They filled her, pleasured her, and pleasured themselves via her.
Three becoming one.
It was perfect. It was right.
So right.
So—
Her abrupt orgasm blasted through her, savage and wild and bone-melting. She shuddered, her screams of release rising to the ceiling, and as she did, Ruckus held her tighter and growled to Bran.
“Not yet, not yet…”
The cocks inside her continued to stroke, to thrust. Bran’s fingers dug into the back of her thigh. He buried his face into the side of her neck, his whimpers growing louder.
“Fuck, oh fuck, fuck.”
Fresh pleasure rolled through her at his fraying control.
“Fuck, Rick…” Bran cried. “Fuck me, I can’t…much longer…I can’t…”
“Now,” Ruckus said, slamming deeper into RG’s back entry.
Bran threw back his head, his roar high and tearing, his rhythm frantic.
The sheer ferocity, the undeniable relief of his release lashed at her. She came again, the climax swift and powerful and unexpected, but oh, so very intense.
Bran emptied himself into his condom, Ruckus’s fingers digging into her hip harder, his face pressed to the back of her neck, and he too came, silent and fierce and dominating as always.
His thrusts into her body grew wild, his breaths rapid pants. And then, with a strangled groan, he slammed into her one last time, his lips dragging over her shoulder.
They lay tangled and joined together for a long moment. No one said a word. RG’s head swam, the truth of what they’d shared swirling through her.
Ruckus had declared this to be just about pleasure for the three of them, but it had been so much more. She knew it. Bran knew it. She only had to look into his dark eyes to see it had affected him as much as it had her.
His heart hammered in his chest, thumping against her breast. She could feel it, just as she could feel Ruckus’s doing the same.
Perfect. The perfect threesome…
The thought slipped through her head just as Ruckus slowly withdrew from her body and climbed off the bed.
A soft protest fell from her, an exhausted, sated moan.
He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “I’ll be back.”
“Good,” Bran murmured.
When a warm washcloth wiped at her back entry a few seconds later, it was all she could do to curl her lips in a contented smile. She looked over her shoulder at Ruckus. “Thank you.”
He winked at her, wrapped Bran’s used condom in a tissue, and headed back to the
bathroom.
She sighed. God, had she ever been so totally, utterly and incredibly fucked in her life?
This was so much more than fucking. So much more.
A ripple of delight and excitement shot through her. “Life is good.”
Bran hmm’d at her husky murmur. “It is. I never thought I’d get him back.”
A disquieting sense of…of…guilt tickled at her mind at his words.
Get him back.
“You love him a lot, don’t you?”
Bran smiled. She had never seen such a blissful expression. Her throat tightened. Her chest joined in.
“Since the first time I met him.” Bran let out a wobbly chuckle. “And more than I can articulate. Which makes me sound like a hormonal teenage girl and not the ruthless businessman I am, I know. But it’s the truth. He was my compass. My reason.”
She swallowed. The sounds of Ruckus moving around in his bathroom wafted on the air.
Bran’s breath grew slower, deeper.
Her pulse thumped louder in her ears.
Mouth dry, she looked at him. His eyes were closed again, his smile—still there—softened by sleep.
He had Ruckus first.
The thought knotted her stomach.
Before Ruckus entered your life, he was in Bran’s. An idiot can see how much he loves Bran, how incredible they are together. How can you compete with that? What if tonight was just…just…one moment of sexual perfection? And you’re making it something it’s not?
Ruckus was his before he was yours. He was—
The mattress shifted beneath her, Ruckus smoothing his hand over her hip before nestling himself against her back.
“Promise I’ll try not to snore,” he rumbled. His corded thighs pressed to the backs of hers. His cock—flaccid but still impressive—did the same to her butt. A shiver of pleasure raced up her spine, beaded her nipples, and yet, at the same time, she couldn’t stop thinking about Bran.
Ruckus snuggled closer to her, sliding his hand off her hip to thread his fingers through Bran’s.
In his sleep, Bran made a happy sound.
Plugging It In Page 7