by Ember Cole
She opens for me, welcoming me home.
It only takes a few seconds before my blood stirs and that hot, needy feeling is back. I want her again. I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting her.
“Are you sore, sweetie?” I trail my fingers over her slender arm. “Tonight was a lot.”
In response, she turns so that she’s facing me, straddling my lap, her legs looped over the arms of the rocking chair.
“Not so sore that I don’t want you, Vance.”
She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me, taking the blanket with her so that we’re both wrapped in its cocoon together.
My dick stirs to life, and within a few seconds I’m hard again. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of Amelie. I lift her slightly to position myself at her entrance. We both sigh deeply as she sinks down on me.
“You feel so good.” I begin to move, while at the same time setting the rocking chair in motion. “It feels like you were made for me.”
“Mmmm,” she says, leaning back slightly, trying to find the perfect angle. She braces her palms behind her on my knees, just like I’d shown her how to do earlier. I smile. My girl’s a fast learner. The position forces her breasts out, an offering I can’t refuse. I lick one, then the other, mindful that they’re probably pretty sensitive from all the attention they’ve been receiving.
She moans her approval, moving her hips in slow circles, matching my rhythm.
“This is amazing,” she says. “I love having you inside me.”
“I love being inside you.”
I gather her to me, keeping my pace slow. I want this to last. I grind into her gently, the tightness of her newly breached pussy—the pussy I breached first—driving me crazy, but I keep steady, focusing on a deliciously slow slide. It’s torture of the very best kind. She feels perfect in my arms, and I take in everything about the moment. The warmth of her skin, the smooth texture of her hair, the sound of her breath.
I swivel my hips to give her the maximum pleasure with each slow stroke.
“Oh God. Yes. Just like that.” She nips at my shoulder, her nails digging into my back. And I love it. I love all of it. I might even love her, too.
I stroke her back but don’t speed up. She kisses my neck, and I cradle her head in my big hands.
I don’t ever want this moment to end. I don’t want to let Amelie go. For the first time, I glimpse the faint possibility of a future with her. See her growing older, changing. See her belly growing round with my child.
Fuck, where did that come from? But now that the vision is lodged in my head, I want that more than just about anything. I want her to be mine. I want a life with her. Children. A home. But it’s likely impossible. I know that. She’s too young and sweet for me, and I will not allow myself to ruin her. Not to mention all the complications with my brothers and her father. All I have is this moment, and I’m going to make the most of it.
My balls tighten. I’m close, but I don’t want to go without Amelie, so I wedge a hand between us and slide it down to her swollen clit, applying the slightest pressure. She throws her head back, and her pussy flutters around my cock. It’s enough to shatter my control.
“Amelie,” I grind out. “I’m gonna come. Lift up. I need to pull out.”
“No,” she whispers. “I want you to come inside me.”
I’m stunned for a moment, that image of her heavy with child drawing my balls up even tighter. I’m going to blow. “Are you sure?”
She nods. “Yes. Stay with me, Vance. Please.”
She gasps, then she’s stiffening, too. She clenches around me, squeezing my dick, milking me. I explode deep inside her, grasping her close to my chest as I pump her full of my seed.
She bites her lip, trying to keep from waking my brothers, but small gasps of pleasure turn to quiet whimpers as we both ride our climax together.
I keep my arms around her, holding her as her heart rate returns to normal. She snuggles back into my chest, tucking her head under my chin. I’m still inside her and don’t want to move, to break that connection.
Because now that she’s fulfilled her reason for coming to the ranch, I know she’ll be leaving. She needs to make her own way, and I’ll help her however I can. We all will. Whether it’s money, a car, airfare, or just moral support. It’s hers. I hope she’ll take good memories with her when she leaves. Because she’ll be taking a piece of my heart, too.
16
MEMPHIS
Blinding sunlight streams through the kitchen window. I squint, stifle a yawn, and turn the bacon in the pan. There’s already a stack of it, hot off the stove, on a plate nearby, but it takes a lot of bacon, eggs, pancakes, coffee, and toast to feed seven grown men. We’re practically a testosterone army. Especially after we spent a good part of the night burning up the calories fucking our Amelie.
Our Amelie.
Grey and I have always shared women. We’ve invited one or two of our brothers to share with us, too. Grey and I always found it more satisfying that way, for some reason. Last night was no exception. Seeing our girl covered by all those hands and mouths and dicks was really something. No matter what happens from here on out, I’ll always remember it.
“Eggs are about done,” Greyson says, breaking into my thoughts. After a pause, he adds, “She was pretty fucking hot, wasn’t she?”
Yep. On the same page as usual. “Hell, yeah.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed a woman more.”
“Me neither.”
I knew we were feeling the same way toward Amelie—we’re very rarely out of sync—but it’s nice to hear the words anyway.
“When do you think she’ll leave us?”
A rare frown turns the corner of his mouth down. Mine, too.
“Don’t know,” I reply. “I hope we have a few days with her.” Actually, I’m hoping she decides to stay here for good.
I look at Greyson. He knows what I’m thinking. “Me, too.”
“Maybe we need to make sure she doesn’t want to leave.”
“Hey, guys,” the subject of our thoughts says, strolling into the sunny kitchen, a smile on her face. She’s dressed in Reed’s T-shirt again. Her feet are bare, her breasts gloriously braless and jiggly under her shirt. My cock pokes its head up in interest, but my stomach is growling, too.
Hmm. Food or woman?
I smile, getting an idea.
“You look good enough to eat,” I say.
I catch her hand as she heads for the coffeepot and spin her around, bringing her up against my bare chest.
I look at Greyson over the top of her head, and he gives a wicked grin.
I turn off the stove. Grey gathers up the plates and glasses we’ve just set on the table, as well as the plate of pancakes and the forks.
I strip off her T-shirt and lift her to sit on the edge of the massive oak table that’s probably been in this kitchen since the damn house was built. I’m not sure it was ever used for the purpose we’re about to put it to. But then again, maybe it has. We had to have gotten our kinky streak from somewhere.
“You won’t be needing these,” Greyson says, stripping off her panties.
I arrange her on the table, laying her out like she’s a Christmas ham, displayed in a feast for our eyes.
She giggles and tries to sit up. “What are you guys doing?”
“Having breakfast,” I say with a shrug, as if we do this every morning.
Every morning. Fuck, that’s an amazing thought.
“Okay,” she says, game to play along. She relaxes on the table. “It’s kind of cold in here, isn’t it?”
Her nipples certainly think it is. They are red and swollen, sticking straight up.
Yum.
“You’re not too sore, are you?” I want to know how gentle we need to be with her.
“I’m a little tender,” she says, her hands moving to cup her breasts.
“Your poor nipples,” Greyson says, and leans over to give each one a light kiss.
>
“Anything else?” I’m hoping for one answer.
She gives it. “Well, I’m a tiny bit sore here.” She slides her hand down her body to her folds.
Fuck, yeah.
“On it,” I say, just in case Greyson had other ideas.
I pull her ankles apart and climb up right between them. On my hands and knees, I bend to press a light, teasing kiss to her clit, then another a little lower down. She smells like soap and clean cotton, obviously having just showered, but soon she’ll smell like sex again.
“Memphis!” she exclaims, giggling again. She tries to close her legs, but I won’t let her.
“Don’t make me tie you down,” I say, only half threatening. I’d love to see her bound and helpless while Grey and I pleasure her within an inch of sanity. My cock is hard now and twitches in agreement.
“You wouldn’t.”
I arch a brow and stare at her, wanting her to dare me, so I can do it.
When I let go of her ankles she pulls her legs together slowly, her gaze locked on mine.
Holy fuck. She wants us to tie her down. She might be the perfect woman.
“Shit. You might be the most perfect woman ever,” Greyson says, echoing my thoughts. This happens a lot.
I grab the T-shirt off the floor and rip it from neck to hem.
“That’s Reed’s!”
“Good.” I’d rather her be wearing one of my shirts anyway. Fuck knows I don’t. I rip it again. And again, until I have four strips of soft cotton. I hand two to Greyson, and he goes around the table.
I roughly grab an ankle and wrap the cotton strip around it, tight enough so she won’t be able to move very much but loose enough not to cut off circulation. I stretch the cotton and wrap it around the table leg, then tie it off in a knot.
Greyson is doing the exact same thing with Amelie’s wrists at the head of the table.
Tanner and Jesse enter the kitchen and stop short.
“I thought we were having bacon and eggs,” Tanner says, his eyes eating up the sight of Amelie tied spread-eagled on the dining room table.
“Change of plans,” I say. “Greyson and I wanted an appetizer.”
“A breakfast appetizer?” Jesse asks. “Never heard of that.”
“Totally new,” I say. “You’re welcome to a taste, too.”
Jesse’s eyes roam over Amelie. His pajama pants tent in the front.
He presses a quick kiss to Amelie’s lips, then steps back. “I think I’ll watch.”
“Morning, beautiful,” Tanner says, kissing Amelie. He steps back, too.
An audience. Yes.
Oh, where to start. I could look at her like this all day and be happy just beating off to the sight.
Greyson has grabbed the bottle of syrup. “First thing to do is make sure our meal is sweet.” He squeezes a little onto her belly.
Amelie’s eyes go wide. “You can’t—” she starts to say, but Greyson coats her belly and breasts. The others groan.
“This might get messy,” I say to Amelie. “You’re probably going to need another shower, but don’t worry. We’ll help. Plenty of room for the three of us in our shower.”
I grab the bottle from my brother.
“Oh, no,” Amelie says, laughing. “You can’t.”
I unscrew the lid and toss it over my shoulder.
“It’ll make such a mess,” she says, pleading with me now. “Your floor will be sticky for weeks.”
“Yep.” I dump a stream of it over her body. I start between her breasts and trail it down her body. I pause at her navel, filling it with the sticky brown syrup, then pause.
She’s breathless now, her chest heaving.
“Mmmm,” Greyson says, leaning in to lap the sweet maple syrup out of her belly button. “Delicious. You warmed it up.”
“You two are crazy,” she says breathlessly.
“Thank you.” I pour out more syrup, starting where I left off, and trail a thin stream lower, making sure I coat her folds. She closes her eyes and squirms in the increasingly sticky mess on the table.
“Enough,” she begs, biting her lip.
I wait until she looks at me, then upturn the bottle, dumping the rest in a flood over her pussy. Syrup races across the table and drips onto the floor.
She shrieks, but it quickly dissolves into laughter when she sees the looks on Tanner’s and Jesse’s faces.
“Vance is going to kill you when he sees this mess,” Tanner says.
I don’t care. I’m already crawling between her splayed legs, the sticky, syrupy mess getting on my hands and the knees of my pants. I come to a stop with my face at the juncture of her thighs, now glistening with syrup. It drips off her, pooling on the table.
I lick at her, smacking my lips when I pull away. “Mmm,” I say. “That was the perfect amount.”
She laughs and rolls her eyes, but then I get serious. I part her folds with sticky fingers and thrust my tongue inside.
Her laughter abruptly turns into a moan, and she bucks off the table, but she can’t go far, being tied down.
Greyson is licking her tits, rubbing syrup all over her, coating every inch of her in slick, sticky goodness.
Jesse and Tanner have both pulled out their dicks and are jerking themselves off to the sight.
“Holy shit,” Jesse says, his voice husky. “You two are fucking nuts, but goddamn that’s hot.”
I smile but don’t raise my head. She tastes too good.
She writhes on the table now, her belly tightening. It won’t take long for her to come. This time I want to be inside her when she does.
I move farther up the table and push my sleep pants down to my knees. I’m not wearing underwear. Greyson kisses her mouth, so I lick her breasts, lapping up more of the syrup from her skin. Then I push inside her.
“You’re so tight,” I groan. No way I’m going to be able to take this slow. “You’re squeezing me like a goddamn vise.”
Jesse and Tanner grunt and mutter curses as their pace increases.
“Fuck her,” Greyson says. “She wants it bad, don’t you, Amelie?”
She nods, apparently unable to use words.
Always happy to be the cause of that kind of pleasure.
I move, grinding into her with short, hard thrusts. She’s hot and wet and sticky as hell on the inside. There’s a whole lot of friction as my cock slides in and out of her body with a satisfyingly wet sound. I’m half delirious with how good she feels on my dick.
I raise up, trying to get just the right angle to put pressure on her clit so she comes with me. I thrust harder, my hands slipping in the syrup on the table, feeling the come boiling up in my balls.
I’ve never spilled inside a woman’s pussy. Vance may think Grey and I are out-of-control man-whores, but this is something we’ve held back. Too risky. Too personal. We’re always safe. I want Amelie to be my first, though, just like my brothers and me were her firsts. I want to mark her as mine. Ours.
“You going to let me come inside you, sweet thing?” Sweat drips off my forehead, my balls feel like they’re about to blow off, and goddamn do I want her to say yes. “You going to take all of me in that hungry little pussy?”
Grey meets my eye, his expression intense—he agrees with this decision.
Amelie nods frantically, her pussy already fluttering around me. “Yes. Please, Memphis, yes.”
The sound of our girl begging nearly sends me over the edge. Fuck. Yeah.
The second Amelie cries out and clenches around me, I explode, pumping everything I’ve got deep inside her. I swear to God I come for days. It’s so insanely good that I go light-headed. If I pass out in the pool of syrup, I’ll die happy.
“My turn,” Greyson says. He’s already naked and manhandling himself. I don’t think it’ll take much for him to finish, either, so I pull out to give him his turn.
“Flip her over,” he says. She’s not ready for full-on anal yet. I know it and Greyson does, too. Not with guys hung like us. But we’l
l get her there. Still, Greyson likes to take his women from behind, whether he’s filling her ass or her pussy.
I yank off my ruined pants and grab a knife, my sticky feet leaving tracks on the tile floor. I cut through the cotton strips holding her ankles to the table, and Greyson flips her over. Her arms are still bound to the opposite legs, but there’s enough stretch in the cotton to allow her to turn, her arms crossed over her head.
Greyson climbs up on the table and enters her in one long stroke.
Amelie bucks under him, gasping with pleasure. She raises her ass for him, wanting more. My cock starts to get hard again. What the fuck? I stroke it, my hands sticky from the syrup.
I want to come on her this time. Jesse and Tanner have the same idea and move closer to the table.
“Do it,” Greyson gasps. He’s stiffening already, ready to blow his load.
Tanner and Jesse don’t need another invitation. They jack themselves to completion right over the top of her, coming all over her back and arms.
“God, yes,” Tanner says, squeezing out the last of his load.
Jesse is right behind him. He grips her arm as he uses one hand to finish himself off, come spurting all over her creamy skin.
The sight is too much for me and I stroke faster, moving to the head of the table.
Amelie’s face is flushed; she’s breathing hard, her eyes squeezed closed. She’s going to come again, too, I realize.
Have I mentioned that she might be our perfect woman?
I nudge her lips with my cock. She smiles at me, then opens, letting me in.
“Oh God,” Greyson says, pumping into her faster. “That’s right, beautiful. Suck that cock. Suck it hard while I fill you up.”
She obeys, her cheeks hollowing as she lets me slide deeper. I waste no time grabbing her head and going to town.
“Fuck!” Greyson shouts, and I know he’s emptying into her. I pull out and come all over her mouth. She licks it up, and something about that seems to push her right over the edge.
Her lips make a perfect O, and she screams as shudders rip through her body.
Greyson collapses on top of her.
“Wow,” Jesse says once he catches his breath. “There’s no way I’m eating at that table ever again.”