Nothing Between Us

by Roni Loren

  “The dog thing isn’t my kink. But all fours has definite possibilities,” Colby said as Keats carried her down the hall.

  She didn’t miss the ripple that went through Keats’s muscles at the comment. Was that fear? She wondered exactly how far Colby and Keats had gotten last night.

  But she wasn’t able to let her mind wander for long because in the next few seconds, Keats was shutting the door to his room behind them. He lowered her to her feet and clicked off the overhead light, leaving only a bedside lamp on, then shucked his pants and boxer briefs. Keats’s gaze met hers, hungry anticipation there, as he closed the scant distance between them. If he was nervous at all about being with her for the first time, he didn’t show it. He might be submissive in certain circumstances, but confidence in the bedroom wasn’t something he lacked. She could feel the heat rolling off him and seeping into her skin.

  It took everything she had not to reach out and explore, tracing those muscles and tattoos with fingertips and lips. He was art and sex and sharp, beautiful edges. But she got the sense he was leading the show right now.

  “Can I touch you?” she asked.

  His mouth canted up at the corner. “I’m not him, George. You never need permission from me.”

  “Do you want me to take charge?” she asked, wanting to give him what he needed if that was what he craved. “I mean, I’ve never done it formally, but I’m not afraid to try.”

  He cupped her face and brushed his lips over hers, silencing her. “Actually I’m fighting hard not to jump on you and devour you whole. Seems you bring out my aggressive side. So if it’s all the same to you, I don’t need any labels or roles right now. I just want you naked, in my bed, and coming as hard as you can.”

  She wet her lips, her body tightening in the best possible way at his words. She could see all the barely penned-in desire skating across his features. He was holding back with her, trying not to overwhelm her. “You don’t need to be easy and romantic with me, you know? I’m not those girls you’ve been with. If you want to be rough, be rough. I won’t break.”

  His jaw twitched and he took a deep breath. “I would never hurt you.”

  She slid her hands along his hips and aligned her body with his, her own confidence building. “I know that. So stop holding back and take what you want from me. Let go with me.”

  He growled, his hands sliding into her hair gripping tight, and kissed her hard. “You’re a fucking fantasy, George. I’m going to wake up and be back in that shitty hotel.”

  He didn’t give her a chance to respond but instead kissed her more deeply and tugged at her panties. She helped them along down her legs and stepped out of them. His hands moved down her back and he gripped her ass in his palms, seating her against his erection and digging his short fingernails into her skin. The sting of pain only made her feel wilder, more desperate for release. She tangled his hair in her fingers and moaned his name.

  He pushed her down on the bed. “I love that sound—my name in your mouth. Say it again.”

  “Keats,” she whispered against his lips.

  “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

  “I want to feel you inside me. I want you to fuck me, Keats.”

  His green eyes went almost black in the lamplight. “Patience, beautiful. First, I need a taste.”

  He crawled down the bed and braced his hands on the back of her thighs, pushing them open. Then he bent down and did what she could only describe as outright worship. Lips and tongue and even the graze of teeth moved over her with unbridled enthusiasm and surprising skill.

  Her fingers dug into the sheets. Jesus, she was never going to last like this. The sounds of his mouth on her alone were careening her toward orgasm. The men she’d been with in the past had been . . . neat when it came to oral sex. Precise. Which she would’ve figured was the best way to go. But Keats’s mouth, nose, and tongue were everywhere. Her inner thighs, the crease where pelvis met leg, stroking her clit. Sloppy and wet in the best way possible. And all the while, he had two fingers moving inside her, leaving her no doubt that this man loved every moment of this. He wasn’t simply trying to get her off. He was getting off on it.

  And nothing was hotter than that.

  “Keats,” she begged, trying to warn him that she was going to go over.

  But he obviously had no intention of stopping. He curved his fingers inside her and sucked her clit between his lips and hummed.

  That did her in. Her fingers gripped his head hard as orgasm slammed into her with a force that had her arching off the bed. She cried out, heels digging into the mattress, and Keats rode the wave with her until she collapsed back onto the bed with panted breaths.

  “Scoot up the bed, George,” he said, kissing the inside of her knee. “I’m not nearly done with you.”

  “I’m not sure I can,” she said, still trying to catch her breath but knowing she didn’t want to leave this room without feeling Keats deep inside her.

  Keats was all male satisfaction when he smiled down at her. “You look good all wild-haired and sweaty. I’m thinking of making this a daily goal to get you looking this way.”

  He bent down and kissed her, his lips tasting of her arousal, and despite the rocking orgasm, a steady, unfulfilled throbbing between her legs remained.

  “Your mouth is a lethal weapon,” she said.

  He gave her a smug smile as he pulled a condom out of a bag on the floor. “I’m inexperienced in kink. That doesn’t mean I don’t know how to treat a woman in bed.”

  “Amen to that.”

  After rolling on the condom, he gave her thigh a quick smack. “Move up the bed and put your legs over my shoulders, George. I want to hear you come again.”

  She did as she was told and draped her knees over his shoulders. Thank God for yoga. But she wasn’t sure she could come again so soon. “I don’t think I—”

  But before she could finish the sentence, he was pushing into her and making her eat her words. He wasn’t as thick as Colby but he was long and curved in a way that let her feel every inch as he entered her. Her sensitive tissues gripped him and tightened with desperate need.

  He released a long breath when he seated deep, his hold on her thighs tightening. “Why the fuck did I promise not to come? You feel amazing.”

  “Tread carefully. He’ll punish you. I don’t think I’m supposed to come again either.”

  He pulled back and thrust deep again, tension tightening his features. “Whatever it is would probably be worth it.”

  His motions gained momentum, and she could tell he was getting lost to the moment. Unfortunately, she was, too. Just seeing him above her, all blond hair and bad boy, was almost enough to send her over. “I can take it if you can.”

  “Thank God,” he said, draping himself over her and reaching between them to rub her clit as he pumped into her with more force. “This is worth suffering some torture.”

  Her eyelids fluttered shut, her resistance faltering, and she gave herself over to the moment. Colby had known they wouldn’t keep their word. She’d studied Colby long enough to know that he was an attentive lover but also an unrepentant sadist. Punishing them would get him off. And right now, she was happy to provide him the opportunity. Because the guy she’d worried was too young and inexperienced for her was currently rocking her goddamn world.

  Keats’s thrusts turned earnest and rough, knocking the headboard against the wall with a steady rhythm. His hair tickled her face with each movement, the sensation a simple but intensely erotic one. And when he came, he didn’t even try to be quiet. The sounds, the feel of his hair on her, and his fingers against her clit sent her over the edge with him. She reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and held on, taking everything he gave her.

  When he’d finished, he eased her down to the bed and lay atop her, sweaty naked skin fusing together. He pressed his face
into the curve of her neck. “So worth it.”

  “You might want to withhold judgment on that one for a while, Adam,” a deep voice said from behind them.

  They both startled, and Georgia turned her head to find Colby leaning against the doorjamb with crossed arms. “You’re four minutes late. And you broke the rules.”

  Georgia’s throat went tight but she managed a feeble, “Sorry ’bout that.”

  Colby’s smile was slow, sexy, and malevolent. “No, you’re not. But you will be.”

  THIRTY

  Colby schooled his face into impassivity as he led Keats and Georgia to his bedroom, but underneath the surface, he was running hot, every button firmly pressed. When he’d opened the door on the two of them at the twenty-minute mark, he’d been captivated by how fucking perfect they had looked together. Keats’s muscles straining with every thrust, Georgia clawing at Keats’s back and making those soft sounds of hers. Everything about the scene, including him standing there watching, had felt right in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced.

  Most men would’ve probably had a meltdown standing there—pissed and jealous that their girl was being handily fucked into oblivion by some other guy. He knew that by society’s standards, that was how he was supposed to react. But his wiring had never been what anyone would call typical. And he was okay with that. Through his eyes, all he’d seen were two beautiful people finding pleasure—and breaking Colby’s rules, which only meant more fun for him. Reward for making it through the night so far with monk-level patience.

  During the movie, he’d been so keyed up, he’d barely been able to sit still. Even if the two of them had been unaware of the cues they were giving each other, Colby hadn’t missed it. Keats had adjusted his pants every few minutes, obviously fighting a hard-on each time Georgia shifted against him. And Georgia had gotten goose bumps when she’d glanced back and forth between Keats and Colby. Colby had known exactly what was on her mind. His sexy girl and her dirty thoughts.

  And Keats, damn. He’d had him under his command twice in the last twenty-four hours, but it hadn’t been enough. Seeing him with Georgia had only heightened the need. He wanted to see Keats pleasing Georgia, that eager desire to make her lose it. And he wanted to see Georgia’s adventurous side come out and play. His solo encounters with each of them had been off the charts. But knowing they were going to all three be sharing everything tonight was adding an element of heat and an inner restlessness that Colby could hardly contain. They were both his tonight. That notion did something to him on a primal level.

  They all walked into the bedroom together. The lights were low and the curtains were closed. He didn’t need any audience tonight. This was his private show and only two others were invited. Keats stopped in front of him, and Colby set his hands on Keats’s shoulders. Keats stilled beneath the touch but didn’t move away.

  Colby pressed his front to Keats’s back, letting him feel how aroused he was and allowing Keats to relish the vulnerability of being one of the lucky ones under his control tonight. “You like fucking my woman, Adam?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, sir,” he reminded him.

  “Yes, sir,” he whispered so goddamned sincerely that Colby’s cock flexed against his zipper at the sound of it.

  “You have no self-control, do you?”

  “Not when it comes to her.”

  “I don’t blame you.” He squeezed Keats’s neck. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t punish you. Both of you.”

  Keats’s cock was already half-hard again. Colby smirked to himself. There were some benefits to having a twenty-something-year-old guy around. What Colby could offer in experience and staying power, Keats could match in recovery time and eagerness.

  “Spread your feet wide, hands clasped behind your neck,” he said to Keats as he pulled something from his pocket. Keats moved into position, and Colby caught Georgia watching the two of them with unblinking focus. “Georgia, bring me that black bottle from the side table.”

  It took her a second, but she snapped out of her haze and grabbed what he needed.

  “Next time, you won’t be able to come so fast,” Colby said, crouching down in front of Keats and squirting a little lube on the black silicone device in his palm.

  Keats’s gaze turned wary. “What is that?”

  “A cock ring.”

  “For what?” Keats stared at the ring like it’d bite him.

  “It’ll keep you hard longer,” Georgia said, her eyes fixed on what Colby was doing.

  “Give the pretty lady a teddy bear. She’s been busy on Google.” Colby stretched the top ring and leaned forward to swipe his tongue over the head of Keats’s cock, then slid the ring to the root of the shaft, lube easing the way but the fit a snug one. Keats was tense as a bow but didn’t move until Colby stretched the bottom ring and fitted it around the base of Keats’s testicles, making them bulge in a pleasantly obscene way.

  Keats groaned and his hands fisted. “Oh, fuck.”

  “That will only get more intense the more turned on you get. But tell me if it becomes pain instead of pressure. This part is not supposed to hurt. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good, on your knees.” Keats lowered to the floor with a darting glance toward Georgia to gauge her reaction. “Now . . .” Colby strolled over to grab his favorite flogger from his closet and ran his fingers through the tails of buttery-soft elk hide. “You both broke the rules, but I can’t very well beat a man with bruised ribs. Not even I’m that cruel. So Georgia will have to take the flogging for you both.”

  “What?” Keats said, distress filling his voice. “No way. I can take it. Don’t make her—”

  “I can handle it,” Georgia said, her gaze meeting Colby’s without fear.

  Colby smiled. His tough, sexy girl. She wasn’t being self-sacrificing—though Keats would probably see it that way. No, Georgia wanted this. She’d done beautifully with the spanking the other night, reacting just how he’d hoped. And he suspected she’d secretly craved this part for a long time even if it’d scared her. All those nights she’d watched him from her window, touching herself. How many times had she wished it were her taking those stinging blows? God knows he’d imagined her there stretched out and vulnerable, waiting for the kiss of pain he could give her.

  “Stand in front of Keats, right under that silver ring in the ceiling. I want you close enough that he can see your face when you take your punishment.”

  Keats still looked more than a little concerned for Georgia, but Georgia was following directions like a pro. She positioned herself under the O-ring Colby had installed in a roof beam. He brought a long length of soft hemp rope and strung it through the ring.

  “Arms over your head.”

  Georgia complied, looking like a goddess as she stretched out with that mass of hair and glowing brown skin. Colby took his sweet time wrapping rope around her wrists, enjoying the ritual of binding her in a way that would keep her secure but wouldn’t injure or chafe. For his own pleasure, he bound her forearms, wrapping her to the elbows again. Adornment, not function. The two of them painted a stunning picture, one he knew would stay burned in his memory: Georgia bound in rope and Keats at her feet, cock and balls in the grip of the rings.

  He was the luckiest bastard on the planet tonight.

  He checked Georgia’s bindings one last time, making sure they’d support her if her knees got weak during the flogging. “Anything hurt or too tight?”

  “No, Colby,” she said, her voice breathier than normal, her eyes already getting that far-off look.

  Oh, very nice. Someone responded well to bondage. “You look perfect strung up for me, baby. Beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Tell me your safe word.”

  “Red,” she said after a moment.

  “Good girl. You’ve earned ei
ght minutes under my flogger because you both went four minutes past my deadline. Each stroke will get more intense. Last for all of it, and I may be generous enough to give you two rule-breakers another chance to come tonight.”

  She nodded and spread her feet a little wider while lowering her head—preparing for him. He stepped a good swinging distance behind her and readied.

  “Georgia, you don’t have to—” Keats began, but Colby let the first stroke fly diagonally across her back, the resounding thud against her skin cutting Keats off.

  The soft exhalation of air from Georgia was like a drug to Colby’s system. Nothing sweeter than the sound of a submissive taking what he gave with grace.

  “You better tell your boy to stop protesting for you,” Colby warned. “Every time he opens his mouth without permission, you earn another minute.”

  He crisscrossed another few strokes over her back in quick succession, increasing the level of sting.

  “Keats, shut up,” Georgia managed in a choked voice. “I’ve got it.”

  Colby felt his dominance rising fully to the surface. She’s got this? Well, that sounded like a challenge if he’d ever heard one.

  —

  Georgia realized she’d been too confident. On the next hit, Colby must’ve put a flick in his wrist because the recoil of those tips of leather snapping against her felt like a hundred tiny licks of fire across her ass. Georgia gasped and arched in her bindings, her natural human instinct to get away from the source of pain kicking in without her conscious effort. Her heels lifted off the floor.

  “Reach down and cuff her ankles with your hands, Keats,” Colby said, the pleasant, nonchalant tone in direct contrast to the swats he was meting out. “I don’t want her to hurt herself moving those pretty feet.”

  “Yes, sir.” Keats scooted forward on his knees and peered up at her, his eyes holding a hint of apology, though his body looked to be responding just fine to the show. He was already fully hard again, the cock ring standing out in relief against the taut skin. He locked long fingers around her ankles and provided downward pressure, fastening her to the floor and giving her a nice view of those tattooed arms and muscular shoulders.