by Liz Meldon
She was just about halfway down Cole’s cock, adjusting to the size of him, her hand at its base, when Finn gripped her hips and thrust into her. With her mouth full, her sounds were muffled, and she dug the fingertips of her free hand into Cole’s side, eyes clenched shut as Finn filled her. When Finn’s hips bumped into her backside, she risked opening her eyes—only to find Cole watching her with a blazing, heavy-lidded stare, lips slightly parted, utterly transfixed.
At Finn’s murmured inquiry as to how she was doing, Skye merely nodded, sliding up Cole’s cock and gasping for air. Over her shoulder, she caught the bastard grinning, his hands finding their bearings on her hips.
“Good,” he purred before almost pulling out completely and pounding back into her. She whimpered his name, watching him take her steadily, firmly, but never harshly. In total control, he pumped in and out of her, each delicious thrust enticing her body back to the brink again, her senses primed for pleasure.
At a slight tug of her hair from Cole, she returned her attention to his cock, taking him in as much as she could, her fist sliding up and down, their eyes locked together. It was a challenge to maintain her pace, as she found herself getting lost in Finn’s skilled handling of her, but Cole managed to keep her as focused as she could be, his hand in her hair, hips bucking slightly to meet her mouth.
As she edged closer to another life-changing orgasm, her men seemed to share an unspoken conversation over the top of her head. Suddenly, Finn pulled out of her, then hoisted her up and respositioned her so that she was sitting on top of Cole. Four hands worked her body, rearranging, lifting, maneuvering, until Skye was sliding down Cole’s cock, an incoherent jumble of nonsense rushing from her lips. Cole kept still as she let her body adjust to all the changes, her sex tightening around him, pleasure rippling out from her core with every exquisite clench. Finn, meanwhile, cupped her face and brought it to his almost painfully hard shaft, and she engulfed the tip, adding some pressure behind her lips, without a word. He cursed softly, sliding in and out in shallow strokes, half using her fist at his base, half relying on his own tempo to find his pleasure.
When Skye glanced up, she saw the strain in his neck, his flushed face, his gritted teeth. Within moments, he stiffened and spilled himself into her, and she scrambled to swallow every last bit—because that was not dripping onto her couch, thank you very much.
“Sorry,” he murmured, stepping away on unsteady legs when he finished, offering an apologetic smile as he stumbled back to the couch. “I’m usually better at giving a bit of a warning…”
“Skye has that effect on men,” Cole teased, nipping at her neck as he dragged her back against him. “Haven’t you noticed yet?”
“My tutor always said I was a slow learner.”
“Ahh, so that’s what it is—”
“Oh my god.” Skye looked between them, laughing. “Can we not with the witty banter right now?”
Finn slumped back into the couch, chuckling, and ran a hand through his hair before letting out a sigh that could only be described as wholly content. Ready with a barb of her own about letting her climax wane, she was about to turn back when Cole curled a hand loosely around her neck, pinning her against him, and started to thrust. Hard. Skye cried out, eyes wide before clenching shut, surrendering to the instant bliss of being truly taken by the man she loved.
When his fingers found their way back to her clit, settling in as if coming home, Skye was gone, lost to the pleasure as her second climax hit hard and fast. Warmth bloomed within her core, then radiated out, seeping into every muscle. Unable to kiss Cole as she wanted to, Skye managed to plant a quick nibble on his jaw, and Cole quickened his thrusts, his hand tightening slightly around her throat as his pace stuttered off and he groaned, mouth clamped down on her shoulder.
Panting, they gingerly untwined, Cole’s pulsing cock still buried deep inside Skye as he propped her up and massaged the back of her neck. When she found Finn unabashedly watching, his mouth twisted in that scandalous grin again, all she could do was smile shyly back.
“You’re beautiful when you come,” he told her, words tinted with renewed interest. She swallowed hard when he lifted her chin with the tip of one finger, as if to admiring the hot flush coating her skin.
“And you’re sweaty when you come,” she said after a moment of letting him have his fill, reaching forward, lingering tendrils of pleasure crawling through her from where she and Cole still joined, to wipe at his slightly shiny forehead. “You’re a mess, Finn Rai.”
“Suppose we’d better get me cleaned up then.” He shuffled to the edge of the couch. “Cole… Is that shower of hers big enough for three people?”
“Five, probably.”
“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“In due time, I suppose.”
“Oh my god, stop,” Skye said, groaning as both of them smirked down at her, a little too pleased with themselves. It couldn’t be good for a man’s ego to appear quite that smug, but before she could say anything to deflate the look on either of them, they were already moving. Cole scooped her up as he stood, and Finn followed them to the bathroom, his dark gaze promising more than Skye suspected she could handle in a single morning.
But she was certainly willing to try.
The End
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22
Party Foul
“You never manage to get your tie right on the first try, do you?”
Cole lifted his frustrated stare to the bathroom mirror, and it softened when he spied the love of his life leaning in the doorway. Skye Summers cocked her head to the side, lips spread in a smile that always made him feel like he was the only man in the world. Wearing a navy blue A-line dress, shoulders bare and the wavy hem stopping just above her knee, she was an absolute vision—but then again, Skye was also a vision wearing nothing at all, her hair mussed and not a speck of makeup to be found. Tonight, however, her coppery waves had been drawn up in a bouncy ponytail, and her eyelids shimmered with a black smoky-eye look that was most alluring. No shoes yet, Cole noted as he turned and openly admired her, but he knew she had a pair of black heels waiting at the front door of what was once his personal, private Coral Bay beach bungalow.
Now, however, it housed not only Cole, but Finn and Skye as well, each with their own bedroom. Oh, and not to mention Ozzy, who had claimed every bookshelf, shelving unit, and window as his own.
And Mason, the labradoodle Skye and Finn had surprised Cole with two months ago after the pair had attended some animal welfare fundraiser. Apparently there had been dogs to adopt, and neither had the willpower to say no. So, what had once been a quiet, peaceful villa overlooking the Pacific was now a chaotic, noise-filled home on a good day.
A year into their polyamorous threesome, Cole wouldn’t have it any other way.
“This isn’t the first time I’ve attempted to tie it, no,” he agreed, leaning back against the large double-sink-laden countertop. Skye strolled in, hands clasped behind her back, and only stopped when her jutted hips pressed up against his, lips pursed in a deliriously sexy pout.
“Oh, I know,” she mused, her hands wandering up his chest, smoothing his pressed dress shirt before gripping the crisp collar. “What is it? Fourth? Fifth? What kind of knot were you even attempting?”
Cole’s cheeks warmed as she started to undo the damn thing hanging pathetically around his neck—navy, to match her dress. Finn’s was the same.
“It’s a Windsor knot,” he said weakly, and she snorted, eyes fixed on the task at hand.
“A Windsor it is not.”
Lower lip caught between her teeth, Skye readjusted the material length, her whole body involved in the act of retying his tie. Cole swallowed hard, unable to stop himself from responding to her little wiggles, their hips fitted snugly together. As she looped one side of the tie around the other, she risked a quick, saucy glance up—then had the audacity t
o ever so gently grind herself against him.
“Skye…” he warned, but it was too late. Skye had a knack for getting him hard with just a look, and that wasn’t changing anytime soon.
“What?” she asked with an innocent flutter of her lashes. “Are you okay?”
He bit the insides of his cheeks, a mental image of bending her over the counter, hiking up that dress, and spanking her until she begged him to fuck her flashing across his mind. They’d done it before, much to the satisfaction of both parties involved—and she knew exactly what she was doing.
“You…” He closed his eyes when she ground against him once more, this time slowly, sensually, no longer attempting to hide her little game.
“There. Perfect,” she whispered, and suddenly her body was gone. Cole’s eyes snapped open, and he found her holding the end of his now perfectly knotted tie, her eyes twinkling mischievously. Before he could chastise her, more than capable of taking the tone that made her wet and wanting, she slid her hand up the tie, gripped the exceptional Windsor-style knot, and dragged him in for a kiss. Cole went willingly, happily surrendering to the feel of her hot mouth against his, to the way she opened herself for him with the softest, most exquisite little moan. Groaning, he hoisted her up, hands dipping beneath her dress to cup a bare backside.
While he’d already been at half-mast with her previous flirtations, he found himself standing at full salute when he realized she was wearing one of those barely-there pairs of panties. Just a slip in the front, a thin string in the back—perfect for pushing aside or ripping off in the heat of the moment. Both he and Finn had spent a fortune on underwear in the last year because they couldn’t stop tearing them off her.
He set Skye down on the counter, his hand locking around the base of her ponytail as he dragged her closer, their kiss deepening so that he could properly devour her. It didn’t matter that they were expected, dressed and proper, for some function in half an hour. Cole would skip every party, every gala, to spend an evening in bed with Skye.
A growl vibrated in his chest when she nipped at his lower lip—hard, the misbehaving little minx—and pulled away. Breathless, she leaned back against the mirror, her pointed toes wandering up and down the backs of his thighs.
“I was only visiting to tell you the car will be here in five minutes,” she admitted with a smirk, her cheeks flushed the same rosy pink that always made his heart melt. “And now I have to redo my makeup. How dare you…”
Cole watched, dumbstruck, as she slid off the counter, cheekily licking his chin along the way, and then stroked his painfully erect cock.
“You should probably do something about that,” she told him, her grin turned wicked. “We don’t want to cause a scandal, do we?”
Cole gritted his teeth as she slunk by, wanting to yank her back and properly discipline her for the whole show, but knowing she was right. Cole and Finn had pledged a lot of money to the heart and stroke research center being honored tonight, especially after Finn’s father had had his first heart attack earlier this year. He couldn’t bail on it—not because he wanted to fuck Skye well into the night, anyway. Not quite a valid reason.
Still. Her little stunt had been downright cruel.
“You should do something about that,” he growled at her retreating form, and she scampered out of his en-suite bathroom with a giggle. Exhaling sharply, Cole stared down at his tented trousers. Well, he wasn’t about to rub one out less than five minutes before their ride showed up. So, grumbling to himself, Cole focused on deep breathing and as many non-sexy thoughts as he could, hands on the counter and head hanging. By the time he was finished, his little problem had mostly disappeared, but he wouldn’t forget it. Skye needed to be dealt with. And soon.
After a quick mirror check, his hair in place and face clean-shaven, he re-tucked his dress shirt into his trousers, then stalked out of the bathroom, catching the light switch on the way. Mason, six years old and adorably large, lay sprawled out across Cole’s bed, his favourite place in the whole house. As soon as Cole looked at the labradoodle, that huge tail started thumping, and he couldn’t resist going in for a cuddle.
“Did you see what your mummy did, Mason?” Cole cooed, crawling across the bed and giving the dog a thorough ruffling. Mason rolled onto his back, tongue lolling out as his tail continued to wag. “Isn’t she cruel? Yes, we’ll need to deal with her, won’t we? Won’t we?”
He glanced back at the door and cleared his throat. Finn was merciless about the way Cole babied Mason, especially after he’d made such a stink about not being consulted when Finn and Skye brought him home. Now, however, he couldn’t imagine their lives without the loveable oaf.
“Car’s here.” Finn’s voice echoed from somewhere, likely the front door, and Cole dragged himself away from the dog with another soft sigh. After quickly dusting his pants off, he grabbed his wallet, phone, and, just in case, two condoms from his bedside stash.
As he’d suspected, he found Finn standing in the foyer, lint-rolling his pants as Ozzy continued to wind himself around his legs.
“I just did that leg,” the man grumbled, gently pushing the cat away before hastily rolling off the white fur. The cat’s tail flicked from side to side before he plopped down by Finn’s feet, belly up.
“Well, that’s a trap if I’ve ever seen one,” Cole said, chuckling. The giant fluffball rolled over to face him, offering him the same temptation, but Cole merely rubbed the cat’s head in passing. “No one’s falling for that, Oz.”
“We’ve all learned our lesson. Never again,” Finn added as he straightened and tossed the lint roller into the wicker basket Skye had added to the foyer’s new table-of-crap. Keys, mail, collars, poop bags, and a whiteboard for salacious note-writing had all somehow migrated into Cole’s once spotless, nearly empty front entryway. Now, his coat closet overflowed with jackets and shoes, and Skye had even ordered a new teal rug to fill the space.
He’d never lived in such a cluttered, messy house before—though neither of his partners would acknowledge the clutter or the mess.
“What took you so long?” Finn asked as Cole handed him his jacket, which had been hanging off the front closet door. “Thought you’d be ready before me. You started earlier.”
“Skye,” was Cole’s only excuse, and both men slipped into their suit jackets with identical smirks.
“Ah.”
“She decided to be a bit distracting.”
“Yes, I know the feeling.” Finn checked his cuffs, shaking his head. “She was a bit distracting while I was in the shower, too. And then left. Without finishing.”
“A familiar story.” Cole crossed his arms, putting the pieces together. “Someone’s in a rather teasing mood today.”
Finn ran a hand over his perfectly styled hair. “I think she’s just excited. You know… First time all three of us are going out together.”
“Right.” He hadn’t forgotten—Cole just hadn’t thought it an occasion to celebrate, which had been his mistake. Although they had been navigating the sometimes rocky road of a ménage a trois for over a year now, tonight was the first instance where all three of them would arrive at a function together. They’d pose for press together. They’d navigate the room together. They had collectively agreed to stop hiding their relationship at Skye’s somewhat emotional insistence last month, and tonight was the night they made their debut.
Although Finn’s house had been larger, they had all initially agreed to move into Cole’s about three months into the relationship because it offered more privacy. None of them knew how to handle the new, thrilling, unorthodox situation they’d found themselves in, and had agreed that nosy neighbours only added to the stress. So, Finn had sold his enormous manor in his gated community, stored or donated most of his antiques, and moved in with Cole and Skye. They’d kept the downtown apartment if any of them ever needed space to themselves, but thus far, neither Cole, Finn, nor Skye had made use of it. Instead, they’d decided to redecorate and use it to
host family whenever they were in town.
Not wanting the press to have a field day at the start of something delicate and new, they had all agreed to keep things neutral in the public eye. Skye went out with both Cole and Finn, usually separately, and there was a collective pact to keep public displays of affection at a minimum. For some time, it had made their home life even more exciting, but both men had seen the effect it was having on Skye. She was a snuggly creature by nature, wanting to hold their hands and cuddle no matter where they were, public or private, and to be denied over and over again for the sake of “appearances” had been hard on her.
Last month, all three agreed to hell with it. Let the press write whatever they wanted. Let the society circles whisper. Cole was in love with her. Finn too. If she wanted to hold both of their hands in public, or kiss them whenever the urge struck, who were they to deny her anymore?
So, tonight was their coming out party, in a way. Cole should have realized and made more of a big deal about it. All he and Finn had done was match their suits and ties to the dress Skye had shown them earlier in the week. He frowned. This should have been a more lavish affair. Limousine. Champagne. A huge, beautiful dinner beforehand—rather than yesterday’s leftovers gobbled down around the kitchen island, the three of them in sweats, chatting and laughing about their respective work days before the stylist arrived to do Skye’s hair and makeup.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Finn told him, his tone kind. “I think she’s fine with how today’s gone… I think she’s frisky because she’s excited, that’s all. I’m still a bit wound up myself, actually.”
“Same here. Perhaps we ought to do something about it,” Cole said, an idea sparking to life as he adjusted his still somewhat-snug trousers. When he heard Skye baby-talking Mason from down the hall and the dog barking back happily, Cole moved closer to Finn, his voice low. “It’s a bit risky, but hear me out…”