Ménage Material [La Belle sans la Bete Ménages] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Akeroyd, Serena

  She grabbed his dick and slid it along the length of her cunt, wetting the shaft with all the cream soaking her sex. Only as he nearly penetrated her did she remember a condom and froze. “Tell me you have a condom. Please God,” she gritted out and watched as he froze for a second too, before jerking his head in a yes.

  His hand shot out and he fumbled for a second, blindly grasping something under the bed. He dragged out a box and the condom wrappers crinkled and sang as he grabbed one and handed it to her.

  She sank back onto his thighs as she ripped open the packet with her teeth and spread the condom down his shaft, jerking her hand once, twice, before retreating to her earlier position.

  As she slid down, filling herself with him, she stilled. For a second, the sensation of a cock so different to the one that had been fucking her for the last two years was so deliriously hot she wasn’t sure if she could come from that alone.

  Alex’s shaft hit completely different places in her pussy. From the current position, her pelvis resting against his groin so that every inch of him was deep inside, Devvy realized she was content to just sit like that, impaled on his cock. Of their own volition, her inner muscles started to flutter, manipulating his shaft with a deep massage. They sucked down, rippled and played about the intruder invading her. Her head fell back and she used her hands, pushing them down against his belly, to keep her upright. It was only then she realized Alex was still dressed and she still wore her shirt. She’d have liked his hands on her tits, pinching her bare nipples, but she didn’t need it enough to move and make that happen. Devvy was quite content to just sit there, almost skewered by his long shaft in the best possible way.

  It was only as she took stock of her body that she realized her eyelids were actually twitching with the overwhelming flush of exhilaration. Pleasure was too weak a word to describe the singing nerve ends that sizzled with the scorch of his penetration.

  She lifted those twitching eyelids and stared at him, saw the strain on his jaw, the white tension that spoke of his own excitement. He was one of the sexiest men she’d ever seen. And that it was Alex Ivanov’s cock deep inside her, had her cunt clenching down on him with the force of a clamp. The resulting groan had her hissing with satisfaction.

  She thought of the years she’d spent gawking at his pictures. Her pathetic teen crush on him had had her crawling the net for news on his experiments and the man himself. And here she was. He was fucking her.

  In fact, she, Devvy Jacques, was fucking him.

  The thought of her surname was a reminder of Bastien but it didn’t diminish her pleasure any. Instead, her mind leaped ahead, picturing a time when all three of them would be together and that image prompted her to roll her hips for the very first time.

  “Yesss,” the pair of them hissed out in unison, backs arching as sensation shot down their spines.

  Devvy whimpered as she lifted herself free from his shaft, hovering with only an inch of him in her cunt, before slamming herself down again. She repeated the move, enjoying the sensation of emptiness and then, fullness. She worked herself up and down, ignoring the ache in her thighs, using Alex’s taut belly as support and he just let her. He let her do whatever she wanted. He let her tease herself, let her use his cock for her own pleasure like she would have used a dildo.

  And then, he snapped. As she rolled her hips, descending down his shaft in circular moves that had him touching all sorts of interesting places deep inside, his hands shot out to grab her waist. He pushed her down, sheer force slamming their sexes together. Before she could do more than whimper, he’d rolled upward, over, and then pushed her down so she was flat on her back.

  He grabbed her legs and spread them, wide, holding them at the ankle and with sheer brute force, lifting her butt off the bed. When he fucked into her, his cock slid deep, deeper than before and she squealed. Her head lifting off the mattress and slamming into her chest with such speed, she knew she’d have a bruise above her breasts in the morning. He fucked her, fast, hard, taking every inch and claiming it as his and just like that, with no direct stimulation to her clit, no pinching of her nipples, she came.

  Everything inside her clamped down. Her stomach muscles reversed into the mattress, her butt fought to retreat to the bed and her pussy, swollen with orgasm, turned into a vice. As he struggled to penetrate her, that struggle only jacked up her pleasure, so the blackness in her vision seemed to glitter and glow at the edges. Fire stole over her nerve endings, making the ones at the back of her eyes burn brightly, blindingly.

  Suspended for countless moments, she was flung back into the moment as Alex yelled, his voice breaking as his body froze, his climax hitting him with the same one-two punch as had happened to her.

  She watched, drugged from her own orgasm, as he was battered in the same pleasure storm as she had been.

  Slowly, he sank down. First, his hips against hers, then his arms released her legs, and finally, his torso kissed her own. He slumped on top of her, and she reveled in his weight. In the heaviness of his frame. The deadweight of his lax body counteracted the battle of his softening cock. Their proximity ensured a few inches of him stayed lodged within her, and with that slight feeling of fullness, with his heaviness pushing her into the bed, with her blood singing with remembered pleasure, she finally dozed.

  * * * *

  Alex knew he was too heavy to rest on Devvy the way he was doing, but selfishly, he ignored the knowledge and reveled in her clinging arms and legs. She obviously wanted him as close to her as possible, and he used that to soothe the pangs of guilt.

  She was like hot silk, every part of her that touched him. She branded him with her own innocence and he knew he’d never be the same after tonight. In that one act, the simple connection of cock to pussy, he reevaluated his sex life.

  He enjoyed kink. Whether it was tying Bastien to the bedstead or being tied down himself. Be it a quick fuck in the elevator, wondering if someone was going to press a button and intrude or on the rare occasions they went out, giving Bastien a hand job under the table in a restaurant…. The sexy acts seemed sordid in the face of that innocent union. Of that tender connection that joined a man and a woman together with the sheer power of their mutual pleasure.

  Oh, he knew he’d corrupt her eventually, and he looked forward to it. In fact, taking Devvy outside onto the terrace and fucking her as they stared down at the busy, bustling street, clamping a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet as she came, made his drained dick twitch a little inside—something that had her mouth pouting into a happy smile. For sex, he always overcame his agoraphobia—it was worth it! And he didn’t doubt Devvy would make it more than worth his while. It was those moments of naughtiness that were part and parcel of learning every lover’s hot spots.

  But this…it transcended what he’d imagined.

  A part of him had always sought a third for Bastien’s sake. Alex was not the right partner for a man like their lover. He was selfish where his science was concerned, stubborn where his refusal to leave his apartment came into play. He loved Bastien with a depth that disturbed even him, but because of that love, he accepted that the other man would need something else in his world. Someone normal. Some hint of softness that Alex couldn’t seem to bestow upon his lover. Oh, they embraced and hugged and, in the aftermath of sex, their arms would tangle and their bodies would cling. But in daily life, Alex and Bastien might as well have been friends.

  A part of him hoped that having Devvy with them, he’d be able to open up to a more affectionate kind of relationship with Sebastien. He both longed for that time and dreaded it. He’d never been an overly tactile person. His home life had prevented that.

  His mother, divorced and shamed by it, loved him too much. As a boy, and a man. Only when he was little, there’d been no escape. She’d cling and grasp at him, trying to hold him back for fear of being alone, of being left once more by a man she loved. Frightened of his intelligence, jealous of it and the distance it placed between them. His e
arly childhood had been a virtual tug of war. He’d been relieved when she’d taken a boyfriend, thinking she’d transfer the suffocating love onto her new partner. But that relief had soon turned to horror.

  Alex tried not to think about it, tried not to think about the abuse, about what that bastard had done to him, but it was too late. He’d let the poison in, and now it was taking over. Invading his thoughts, memories, turning everything toxic. He tried to slam on the brakes, but to no avail. As usually happened, a question popped into his head, and it was that question that stewed his brain and triggered a meltdown.

  Was his mother aware of what had been done to her once-precious boy? A son easily replaced by a man who had been the perfect partner, all of it for show, so his access to a small child would never be cut off.

  The thoughts polluted the once-contented atmosphere of his post-orgasm buzz. The desire to be as close as possible to Devvy dissipated, and he pulled free, tugged away from her with a force that jolted her awake. He dragged himself off, sat on the edge of the bed and then, needing to hide from both her sleepy eyes and from the shame of his past, he sank down to the floor. Curling his legs up, he pressed them to his chest and bowed his head.

  No amount of therapy could convince the little boy deep inside he’d done nothing to deserve such treatment. Rationally, he could blame the sick bastard his mother loved to this day. But feelings, emotions, memories…none of them were rational.

  He wanted to scream. Wanted to rail with fury at those perfect moments of union being forever tainted by his past. Why had he thought of something that could never be changed? Why had he had to spoil such beauty with the stain of his childhood?

  This was the major reason he’d been seeking a third for Bastien. Alex poisoned perfect moments. He couldn’t cope with them. When everything was going well, one thought could trigger the past, and inwardly everything would shut down. His brain detonated, and the only escape was his lab.

  So many times he’d been with Bastien, happy and relaxed, then something would happen…he’d see a man who looked a little Pierre Defreine, his abuser, or Sebastien would slide a finger along his spine just like that bastard had once done. In that moment, he’d freeze, then usually say something to trigger an argument.

  He couldn’t do that now. Not with Devvy, not when she was his and Bastien’s salvation.

  That knowledge didn’t stop the pleasure of before turning to ice in his body. It only melted in the form of tears that spread along his eyes and slowly poured down his cheeks.

  He nearly jumped out of his skin when a soft hand touched his shoulder. He froze, trying to remember that it was only Devvy, not Pierre Defreine.

  “Alex?” she asked, and he hated himself for having created that quiver in her voice.

  Over the last two weeks, she’d come to relax around him. She’d softened, become content in his presence. In one fell swoop, his behavior would change all that if he wasn’t careful.

  But even knowing that, the part of him that would forever be caged in ice wouldn’t let him relax. Couldn’t prod him to let his guard down.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her hand massaging his shoulder a little, kneading the tension gathered there.

  “Nothing.”

  His brusqueness should have pushed her away. She should have retreated in a snooty fit. After all, what grown lover took to the floor, curled up like a rebellious teenager against the bed?

  “You’re lying,” uttered as a statement and not a question.

  The words “leave me alone” trembled on his lips, but he thought of Bastien and what Devvy’s relationship to Alex meant to him. Alex had to give his lover Devvy. Her softness, her pure innocence would counteract the darkness in Alex’s soul. Darkness no amount of love from Bastien could counteract.

  His therapist had told him to share the truth of his childhood with Bastien. In a relationship as long as their own, secrets of this nature should not be withheld. But Alex couldn’t do it. He couldn’t share this with his partner. He couldn’t taint himself in the other man’s eyes.

  At his continued silence, Devvy ceased her gentle massage. She moved and he hoped she was going away, to the bathroom, anywhere so long as he could have a little room to comport himself, to get himself back on track. But she didn’t move far away. Instead, she crawled over the side of the bed and sat beside him, copying his defensive position.

  “You’re not upset about what happened, are you?” she asked, her tone conversational, as though they were still bitching about the crap movie she’d wanted to watch.

  “No.”

  “Okay, that narrows it down. Are you frightened about Sebastien’s reaction?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think he’ll be mad we didn’t wait for him?”

  “No.” He forced his lips to move, knowing how important it was to answer this question correctly. “He’ll be relieved. Happy. He wants this as much as we do.”

  “Did I do something wrong?” she questioned, only this time uncertainty had crept into her voice.

  He hated himself for making her nervous and made himself answer, “No. It was wonderful.”

  She snorted. “Yeah, it really looks like it.”

  Alex could sense her hurt, her confusion. The strength of her feelings battered him, and made him curl up a little tighter.

  She rolled upward and sank back onto her knees. Tugging his fisted hands with both of her own, she swept her thumbs over the back of his hands, and just sat there with him. Slowly, gradually, she moved closer. Inch by inch, she crept forward. After around twenty minutes, she was pressed into his side, her arms awkwardly around him, tucked against him as though she were protecting him from the demons she didn’t know he possessed.

  The crazy thing was…it worked.

  Oh, the memories didn’t go. Nor did the oily sludge they left in their wake. But her warmth seemed to melt the chill deep inside and as slowly as she’d soothed and gentled him, he started to respond to her presence.

  He swallowed, bitterly regretting the path his thoughts had taken him down. He hated himself for spoiling their first time. He imbued his regret and remorse into the kiss he pressed against her temple.

  “Would you like to get under the covers?” she asked quietly, her voice as soft as the brush of a butterfly’s wings.

  The inner ice surrounding his heart had sent a chill to all of his limbs. The room was more than comfortable, but to him, it felt as though the temperature were below zero. “Please.”

  She nodded and started to move away. He surprised himself by reaching for her, and then forced his hands to stay by his sides as she climbed to her feet. She leaned over the bed and pulled the covers down and then bent over him, grabbed his arm and tugged him upright with surprising strength. She dealt with the wet condom half-falling off his cock. Pushing and prodding him onto the mattress, she—there was no other word for it—nursed him. Arranged him so he was comfortable and with swift hands, swaddled him in the duvet once he was positioned how she wanted him.

  She retreated to the bathroom but was only there for twenty seconds or more, just long enough to dispose of the condom. He almost called for her to come back, another shock to his system, not actually wanting to be parted from her, but she’d returned by the time he’d dealt with his surprise at wanting her by his side.

  Devvy switched off the lights, climbed into bed, and curled herself around him. She was softness, warm caring. Her very presence soothed the lost little boy that was still a part of the adult Alexei, the little boy who had been wronged. Why she calmed him down, he didn’t know. She was still a stranger to him. A woman who he was slowly getting to know after selecting her out of a magazine for her intelligence and pretty face, the eyes that had spoken to his very soul.

  Why did that part of him, the raw and ragged ache in his soul—the part Bastien wasn’t even aware of because he’d hidden it—respond to her gentle nurturing?

  She didn’t say anything. Didn’t ask anything of him. She just
lay there, close to hand.

  And after an hour in the dark, neither saying anything, both aware the other was awake, when he reached out for her hand, she slipped her fingers between his.

  He slept, finally, with their fingers knotted, a bridge between two separate beings desperately seeking a lasting union.

  Chapter Six

  As the lights from the terrace glared behind his eyes, Alex groaned, wishing he’d had the wherewithal to close the curtains the night before. The thought brought with it a memory of what had happened, and he realized why he hadn’t shut them.

  He groaned with regret. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he tried to wish the night back but there was no use. The damage was done.

  That thought was compounded when he turned to his side and found an empty space. A cold, empty space. She’d been gone a while.

  His stomach twisted at the way he’d reacted last night. It was rare for the past to take hold of him, to grip him between clawed fingers, and throttle him until he was nothing more than the frightened nine-year-old being raped by a man his mother insisted he call uncle.

  The years had a habit of falling away when the memories besieged him. Especially if he was feeling vulnerable, and Devvy certainly made him feel that way. She was special, this one. And he’d just fucked it up. Big time.

  He climbed out of bed, feeling ancient as his bones creaked and complained. Padding to the bathroom, he pissed, and after washing his hands, splashed water on his face. The cool liquid soothed the tender throb behind eyes that had wept the night before. He decided to brush his teeth after he inhaled a full cafétiere of coffee. The caffeine was probably the only thing that would make him feel human.

  Aside from Devvy or Bastien, of course.