Highland Obsession

by Dawn Halliday

  "Turn around, Sorcha," Alan commanded. "Toward me." Sorcha complied, turning until she was looking down at him, her chest heaving and her pulse beating in her throat like a frightened rabbit's as Cam rose from his chair and came to stand behind her.

  Tentatively, Cam's hands closed over her shoulders. He moved her hair aside, and his mouth descended to her neck. All the while, he kept his gaze fastened on Alan. It was a test, Alan realized. Would seeing his friend touch her make Alan insane with jealous rage? Did he mean to follow through with this mad plan? Clenching his fists, Alan watched Cam's fingers knead her shoulders. Cam's lips pressed to the side of her neck, nipping gently. In his arms, Sorcha trembled from head to foot, flushed, needy, and more afraid than he'd ever seen her. Her fingers twitched in her skirts.

  "Rest easy, mo chridhe," Alan said in a low, soothing voice contrary to the tumultuous emotion roiling in his chest. "Cam and I seek only to please you."

  "Are you sure, Alan?" she asked, her voice pleading, even as she tilted her head to give Cam better access to the pale column of her neck. "Please tell me you are certain about this... please ... I don't want to ..."

  He rose and stood before her, taking her upper arms in his hands and squeezing gently.

  "I'm sure. We all want it."

  He spoke the truth. Cam's long fingers played against her neck, stroking the place he'd just kissed. His eyelids were heavy with longing.

  Sorcha was flushed, panting, and Alan knew if he slid his fingers between her legs, he'd find her wet and ready for them.

  And Alan himself.. > God help him, but his dissolute, debauched soul enjoyed seeing Cam's hands on her. Craved it. Made him ache for more. For Cam to take more of her. He wanted to watch Cam's cock shuttle in and out of her body. Wanted to see the look on her face when Cam took her. When he and Cam took her together.

  A part of him bellowed a warning, telling him he was drunk and not thinking straight, but he squelched it ruthlessly as he raised his hands to the front of her bodice. Cam stood behind her, plucking at her laces. When he pulled the strings apart, Cam pushed her gown from her shoulders. With it went her stays and shift, and working together, the two men helped her shimmy out of the confining fabrics.

  Finally she stood bare, wearing only her stockings, garters, and shoes, her pert breasts heaving with every breath she took.

  Alan glanced at the door to the adjoining bedchamber, then cast a questioning look at Cam, who nodded. Lifting Sorcha in his arms, Alan pulled her close, her cool flesh pressing against his chest.

  "Are you cold?" He brushed his lips against the silk of her hair.

  "A little." Snuggling closer into his body, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Moving ahead of them, Cam opened the door to his bedchamber. Alan paused at the threshold, staring in at the familiar, cavernous room.

  Sorcha and Cam had made love here.

  He strode toward the bed with determination. It would never happen again. Not without him there. Watching. Participating. In control.

  Sorcha burrowed her face into Alan's sleeve. He carried her as if she weighed nothing, and when he reached the bed, Cam pulled back the curtain and counterpane before Alan set her gently down. From her position on her back, she stared up into their hungry eyes. One light,

  one dark, both tall and so masculine, gazing down at her like she was the only woman in the world.

  Alan wanted this. His expression was fierce with desire. Her own desire crested and peaked just by observing his need. If he wanted this, so did she. Anything that would please him would please her a hundred times over.

  Cam walked around the bed, shucking his shirt and loosening his breeches as he moved. Sorcha followed him with her gaze, her mouth watering when his hard torso came into view. His muscles weren't as large as Alan's, but each one was well defined and tight, and there was no excess fat on any part of him.

  She looked back toward Alan as the bed dipped with his weight, and he moved beside her.

  Without hesitation or preamble, he cupped her breast in his hand and set his mouth over it, suckling her nipple so deeply, she could feel the pull all the way between her legs. Cam pressed in behind her, and his erection settled in the crack of her bottom. Concern flared for his injury, but as she turned to question him, he curved his arm around her hip and touched the mound of her quim. Sorcha stilled as his fingers slipped lower to brush over her outer lips, gently parting them. Cam had never before moved this slowly with her.

  Alan plucked her nipple just as two of Cam's fingers tugged on her clitoris, and she shuddered, feeling the men all through her. Their warmth, their hard masculinity, their need. She threaded her hands through Alan's thick hair and pressed him tighter to her breast as she wedged her backside more firmly against Cam's groin. Alan pushed her onto her back. Cam rose up onto his knees and bent to her free breast. His mouth closed over her nipple.

  It was almost too much to stand. Sensation barreled through her, hot and sharp, and she squirmed against it. One of their hands—-she couldn't tell whose anymore—pressed on her hip bone, pinning her to the bed.

  "Alan," she gasped. "Cam." She looked at the two heads—Cam's cropped black locks and Alan's thick blond curls, both knelt in-worship over her body.

  Fingers—Cam's, she thought, because she couldn't remember him ever removing his hand from between her legs—began stroking her in earnest. Sliding through her slick folds, circling her entrance, teasing the sensitive pearl above. Alan curled his fingers around her breast, squeezing hard enough to make her gasp, but not quite hard enough to hurt.

  With one final lick over her taut, aching nipple, he raised his head, meeting her gaze.

  "I'm going to fuck you now, mo chridhe." The statement was blunt, said in a rasping voice, but it made her arch her back in anticipa' tion.

  Please.

  Cam's damp hand grazed her belly and kneaded the breast Alan had abandoned, and Cam's teeth closed over her flesh as Alan rose to settle between her legs. Holding his cock in his hand, he gazed at the top of Cam's head for a long moment as Cam tortured one of her breasts with his mouth, the other with his fingers. Sorcha watched in fascinated anticipation as Alan's fingertips brushed lightly over the long length of his erection, pushing the foreskin upward, and then pulling back down to reveal the blunt, swollen cap.

  She licked her lips, remembering how the tip of his cock felt— warm and soft, but so very alive—and Alan's gaze rose to meet hers.

  "Do you want me, Sorcha? Do you want this?" A whispered growl. She did. And yet— "Only if you do, Alan. I only want what you want." Her voice sounded smooth to her ears, like honey, so quiet she hardly heard herself beyond the lust roaring through her body. Cam paused at her breasts for a breath, and then he swirled his tongue around her nipple and lifted away. She closed her fingers on his shoulder. Alan, however, didn't move. His eyes clouded, and his lids lowered as if he were considering the options. His hand tightened over his cock, but stopped its languid motion. Sorcha wanted to bite her tongue for making him question himself.

  "Please, Alan," she whispered. "1 want this. I want you. So much." Alan leaned over her as Cam faded into the background. She still felt Cam's skin beneath her fingers, though, his muscles rippling as he moved to give Alan room. Alan adjusted his cock at her entrance, and she groaned as it nudged her open, forcing her body to conform to its girth.

  He didn't push all the way in, though. Lodged halfway inside her, he stopped, his jaw clenching with restraint.

  He bent low over her and whispered into her ear, his voice a silken brush over her lobe. "I want to watch you suck Cam's cock."

  She could only whimper as the words sent her arousal soaring higher. She bit her lip. It was all she could do not to grind her body down over Alan's erection. Yet she didn't understand why he wanted to watch her with Cam. She still sensed a simmer of animosity under his skin. Perhaps he suspected that she desired Cam more than him. The emotion wasn't blatant, but she could sense it, smell it, like a lingering dampness in the
sun after a storm.

  She feared what would happen if she did this. And yet her husband had commanded her to.

  Worse, far worse, she wanted to. Since the last time she and Cam had made love, she'd thought hundreds of times of taking his long, satiny cock in her mouth. She loved his taste almost as much as she loved Alan's. Lord help her.

  "Are you sure?" she managed to gasp. "Please, Alan ..." Please tell the truth. Don't ask me to do this if it's going to hurt you. Because as much as she wanted Cam, she didn't want to hurt Alan. She'd rather die than risk their marriage again.

  "Goddammit, Sorcha." He raised his head, searing her with his hot blue gaze. "Do you think I'd suggest it if I didn't find it arousing? If it didn't make me want to fuck you harder, to come all over you? Over"— he shoved his cock balls-deep, making her cry out at the rush of sensation—"and over?"

  Cam's hand traced down her arm, and his fingers laced in hers and squeezed, but he remained silent, allowing her and Alan to work it out between them. She loved Cam for his silence, knew that one word from him might spark a fire none of them would be able to contain.

  "I don't—I don't know, Alan—" She was so afraid. So, so frightened of what might happen when this was over.

  Slowly, he drew out, and then just as fast, just as hard as the first time, he sank deep inside of her.

  "Oh!" Sorcha cried, shaken to her toes by the violence of the motion. She gripped his forearm, digging her nails into the skin. He paused, his groin flush against hers, and rose up onto his knees, adjusting Sorcha's body to move with him and giving Cam room to edge close. She didn't look Cam's way, but saw him in her peripheral vision, felt his heat, his warmth.

  "Take him in your mouth, mo chridhe," Alan commanded. The blunt head of Cam's cock nudged her cheek, and she turned her head, pursing her lips. Gently, he bumped against her closed mouth as Alan stroked inside her again. Sorcha shuddered. She felt like she'd been laid out on the rack. With the merest effort, these men could tear her apart, either bringing her exquisite pleasure or ultimate, deadly pain.

  To think they had such power over her—her whole body reacted, every muscle spasming, even the one circling the channel in which Alan's cock was now lodged. Clearly feeling the undulating pressure, he growled low in his throat.

  Cam's cock brushed her lips again, smearing a drop of fluid over them. It took all her will to resist licking it off.

  "Open, Sorcha." Alan's order seemed to come from far above her. Instantly, she opened her lips, moaning when Cam's cock stretched her mouth wide, his male taste heady against her tongue. Just as Alan's cock stretched her, pulsing inside her. He was close, but he moved as slowly as she did, holding back from bursting inside her. She could feel his restraint in the trembling muscles of his forearm. Cam was tentative at first. With his fingers wrapped in her hair, he allowed her to set the pace. Cupping her palm under his ballocks, she nudged him forward until his crown tapped the back of her throat.

  Alan made a small noise above her and matched her pace, settling deep against her womb. She arched her hips to meet him, still gripping his forearm with her free hand. Cam slid out, and so did Alan. It wasn't long before they'd settled into a rhythm, both shuttling in and out of her wet and willing passages. Something coiled tight in Sorcha, wound like a ball of yarn centered low in her abdomen. She arched her back and tugged on Cam's sac to encourage them to move faster, harder. She wanted to be taken, to be pummeled. She wanted them to hold on to her by a thread and let her unravel, because she couldn't bear the aching tension. Not for much longer.

  But they resisted her pull, even as she felt them both grow harder inside her. Cam's veins pulsed on her tongue, under her lips. Alan's cock stretched her even wider, making her gasp over Cam. Each of their thrusts made her groan in sweet agony. And then, suddenly, it changed. As if the men had silently communicated. Or perhaps they had spoken to each other and she simply hadn't heard, too lost in sensation. But Alan's fingers tightened over her hips. Cam's fingers tightened in her hair. And their thrusts deepened, hardened. Quickened. Cam took over completely, forcing her head forward in time with thrusts of his hips. She had no choice but to take him all, so deep she could feel the hairs at the base of his shaft tickle her lips. Alan pummeled her channel. She tightened even more, closing around him, milking him with her muscles even as her lips tensed around Cam's cock. Her hips tilted and her legs wrapped around Alan, encouraging him as deep as he could go. Cam's fingers tugged at her hair as he pulled her away from his cock until his head rubbed at her lips, and then they dug into her scalp as he pushed her to the base again, her lips feeling every inch of his steely length encased by softest satin.

  Every part of Sorcha screamed in aching sensitivity, from her curling toes to the roots of her hair. Her body was not her own. Surely someone else was making those mewling noises. Surely someone else's body was undulating wildly on Cam's bed. She certainly wasn't knowingly doing either. Yet she still felt everything, every nuance, from the soft sheets under her to the bite of Alan's fingers in her side to the cool air brushing over her tender nipples. She noted her lack of control with distance, yet acceptance. She was completely ruled by the two men, and moving on instinct.

  The ball of tension within her coiled tighter, and her whimpers became cries. Still controlling the movement of her head with one hand, Cam's fingers traced the shell of her ear, then traveled down her neck, her chest, and came to rest on her breast. He palmed the tight, aching peak. Sorcha sobbed over his cock.

  Oh Lord, she was going to come apart at the seams.

  And then Alan moved his hand from her waist to take control of her other breast. In synchronized motion, both men thrust deep, simultaneously pulling hard on her nipples. She fell over the edge. Cam held her tight, her lips touching the base of his cock, and as if from a distance, she felt his seed splash against the back of her tongue. Tasted his familiar tang.

  The hot coil inside her burst open. Exploding in her core and branching through her limbs like dazzling bolts of lightning.

  She might have truly flown apart, but both men held on to her, keeping her grounded and sane. Cam's fingers tight against her scalp, Alan's palm rounded over her hip, holding her steady.

  Slowly, she returned to earth, rejoining her body on the bed. Her muscles twitched, still full of the beautiful, tingling buzz of sensation her orgasm had produced. Her mouth was still full of Cam's cock, and now crowded with his come. She swallowed convulsively, and he gently pulled away, loosening his fingers from her hair. She looked up at him for the first time in what seemed like hours. He smiled down at her, his brown eyes soft and full of love. "Thank you." He stroked a lock of sweat-drenched hair away from her face.

  She swallowed again, savoring the residue of his release coating her tongue and relishing the thought that she could make him look at her like that. Such ... devotion.

  "Good, Sorcha."

  She glanced up at Alan, feeling a little guilty, for he hadn't yet achieved his release. Yet he didn't look angry in the least. He looked as she'd felt mere moments ago, dazed with lust, longing, and need.

  "Very good," he whispered. "You pleased him. You please me too." He pulled out and thrust deep again. She'd thought the tissues between her legs sensitive before, but now they were finely tuned to the most miniscule movement. When he brushed against her inner walls, sparks crackled through her. When the tip of his cock nudged the entrance to her womb, she shuddered from the fiery heat that flared through her belly. And when the lower part of his abdomen pressed against her clitoris, it fanned the flames.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. "I can't," she murmured. "Oh, Alan, 1—"

  "You can," he rasped. "You can and you will." After a long moment of white-hot pleasure-pain, Alan slipped out of her, and she opened her eyes.

  Pale fluid leaked furiously from his cock, and she looked up at him in alarm. Alan froze on his knees, eyes shut, clearly willing himself not to come. Sorcha scrambled up in front of him, taking his cock in her fist and licking a
way the creamy liquid. She nearly groaned at his taste. Her husband's taste, warm and bittersweet, tore through her. Hers.

  Gripped in a fiery clutch of possessiveness, she wrapped her arm around his lower back, bent her head to his cock, and took Alan's manhood fully into her mouth. Mine, mine, mine, her mind sang to her with every lick, every deep suck. This man is mine.

  With strong arms, he held her at arm's length. "Not yet," he gasped, his chest heaving.

  "Soon, but not yet."

  He turned around and lowered himself to his back, lifting Sorcha over him so her legs straddled his body. Sorcha glanced at Cam, still on his knees in the corner of the bed, watching them with hooded eyes. His cock had risen again, and he curled his fingers around it.

  "Fuck me, Sorcha." Alan's hands curved around her waist, coaxing her over his cock.

  "Take me deep inside your body and wrap yourself around me." She took his still-pulsing iron-hard rod into her hand and guided it to her entrance. She hovered above him for a long moment, savoring the feel of his cock head tickling her sensitive outer tissues. He moved impatiently under her, and a complaining noise emerged from his throat, but she smiled a secret smile of feminine power. She did this to him. Made him nearly mad with need, with lust. For her.

  Ever so slowly, she lowered herself over him, sighing at the stretch of her body to conform to him once again. Once seated all the way, she planted her hands on either side of his head and began long drags over him, pulling out just to the verge of him falling out of her, then pushing down until she ground herself against his body with a roll of her hips.

  His body stilled beneath her, and he allowed her complete control. Power. She closed her eyes and moved against him, reveling in the slow, sweet build of her orgasm.

  She hardly took note of the movement of the bed as Cam shifted