Vegas Miracle

by Crowe, Liz

  Not in the mood to analyze it, Grace just wanted to feel it, to feel loved by two men this way. When one of the men slipped down beside her she felt the other one lift her up and help her straddle the one lying on the bed. Settling her hips against the cock beneath hear, Grace reached for her blindfold. She was done with the games and ready to face the reality in the room.

  She pulled off the mask and looked into the eyes of Henri, positioned beneath her, his thick cock throbbing against her pussy. She leaned down over him, her hair curtaining his face.

  "Are you my husband’s lover," she demanded as she cocked her hips so he could slip inside her, bringing a gasp to his lips.

  "Ah….shit, yes, I," Henri groaned and gripped her hips, moving up higher inside her as she stared at him. Grace clamped down, squeezing his cock with her walls, making him moan and thrust into her.

  "Answer me."

  "Yes," Ryan’s voice came from behind her, his hands on her shoulders making Grace squeeze her eyes shut. "But I’m not leaving you, Grace." He put a hand on her ass, rubbing a finger along her anus, a bit of massage oil making his finger slick as it dipped inside. Grace arched her back, pressing against his finger. Slipping it inside her tightest hole, stretching her so she could take his cock, Ryan used his other hand to lift her up off Henri, then back down.

  "Ah, God that's an amazing sight," his breath hit her neck.

  Grace looked down at the man beneath her, his eyes nearly black, glistening with emotion as he stared at her. The feel of his cock inside her filling her so completely as she rolled her hips against him before lifting up and pressing against Ryan nearly made her want to cry.

  "Grace," Henri gasped. "We, we are…we both love you." His jaw clenched as Grace stared at him. He groaned as Grace rolled her hips against him, his cock reaching ever higher inside her tight body. She leaned over further, giving Henri access to her nipples, which he took eagerly between his lips, sucking one and rolling the other between his fingers. Sensing Ryan shift behind her, he positioned himself and his cock to enter her. Grace bit her lip.

  "You okay," Henri demanded, looking over her shoulder to signal for Ryan to wait.

  "This is about you so unless you want it, we will stop."

  "I want it," Grace whispered. Ryan leaned down and kissed her bare shoulder. "Please, Ryan," she leaned back into his strong chest and he cupped her breasts, pulling her back so Henri could get a different angle inside her. "Oh please," she gasped as Henri shoved his cock further and Ryan pinched her nipples while nibbling her neck. "I want you both." she muttered. Nothing seemed more perfect right now other than having both of these men inside her, sharing her, cherishing her between them.

  Ryan eased her back down so she was back face to face with Henri. He grinned, covered her lips with his, his tongue caressing the inside of her mouth, his hands fisted in her hair.

  "Okay," Ryan repositioned himself and was rubbing the tip of his hard, lubed shaft against her, "I’ll go slow. You tell me if it’s too much." She could hear the tension in his voice, knew he was turned on, near explosion already. Grace tensed as the head of Ryan’s cock slipped past the tight outer ring of her muscles.

  Henri took her face in his dark hands.

  "Relax, Grace," he soothed. "Let him in, you won’t be sorry." Before he kissed her again, distracting her with his lips and tongue, Henri shifted back, pulling out of her to make room for Ryan as he entered her fully, making her cry out.

  Ryan stopped, his hands on her hips, as she relaxed, feeling Henri’s lips on her nipples, tugging them, easing her into the moment and Grace let the double penetration posses her. Henri and Ryan had their rhythm down pat as her husband slid his cock out to make room for Henri. Then they reversed it and the full, incredibly tight feeling of Ryan’s stiffness filling her was breathtaking only to be replaced by Henri’s shove inside her walls with every other stroke.

  "My God," she breathed, letting herself be manipulated between them, letting them move her. Their tightly choreographed dance was slow at first as she adjusted to the pain and pleasure to be found between the two men. But after a while, she sensed Ryan’s urgency behind her and knew he was close, that he wanted to fuck her harder. She shifted back a little, exposing more of her ass to him. Henri left the head of his cock inside her, watching her eyes as the two of them collaborated without speaking to bring pleasure to Ryan. She tilted her hips up.

  "Harder, baby," she muttered. "Fuck me like you mean it."

  "Unh," Ryan grunted and shoved himself inside her ass harder with each thrust as Henri bit his lip watching how Grace’s breasts bounced near his face while she was getting fucked from behind. He slid a hand down, stroked her clit, never taking his eyes from hers. She knew he was holding back, too, but the sensation of her husband’s cock in her ass made her close her eyes in advance of her impending orgasm. It exploded behind her eyes, massive and a little scary as Ryan clutched her hips and rammed into her with a final groan of pleasure.

  "Oh Jesus, Ryan," she cried out, tears near the surface with her own release.

  "Ah, yessss…" Ryan spilled into her and pulled out slowly in a move she guessed was his attempt to lessen the pain. Grace bit her lip to keep from whimpering.

  The she glanced down at the man beneath her. He was beautiful, no doubt about it. His mocha skin practically edible, his deep, brown eyes yearning and heavily lidded. Grace leaned down and kissed him tenderly as she lowered herself back down on his thickness. He stretched her out, made her gasp. Ryan collapsed on the bed next to Henri and was watching the young man’s face intently. But Henri only had eyes for Grace as he shoved up inside her again, his pubic bone grinding against her clit with delicious friction.

  "Grace," he muttered, closing his eyes, his hips taking on a rhythm with unmistakable purpose. Grace looked over at Ryan and caught the intense emotion in his eyes as he stared at her. She leaned up, putting her hands on Henri’s chest, pushing down, wanting to feel every last inch of him as she squeezed her vaginal muscles, pulling the orgasm from him.

  Grace cried out. "I’m gonna come again. Come with me. I want it. Please, Henri, Oh God!" Grace cried as her clit pulsed and her pussy clamped down on Henri’s length, spasms rocking her entire body. He bucked underneath her, hands on her hips, moving her up and down on his shaft until with a final thrust and grunt of exertion he came, filling her high inside, so high she could sense the warmth near her cervix.

  He kept pulsing inside her and she collapsed down on his damp chest, Ryan rubbing her back with soft hands. When she pulled up off Henri' cock and fell down between them, Grace had never felt more complete in her life. Worried she was in some sort of dream state, that there was no way this amazing thing had just happened to her, she opened her eyes and sat up, glaring first at Ryan then Henri.

  "What is it, my love," Ryan pulled her back down to nestle into his shoulder. Henri was still lying on his back, his breathing slowly calming. When he flipped up onto his side and smiled at them, Grace’s heart lifted. Ryan’s lips pressed into her hair and she reached out to pull Henri to her lips. He kissed her then leaned up to kiss Ryan. Grace’s initial shock turned to pleasure as she watched the two men sandwiched as she was between them. She pushed herself back when they separated, shocked as the room took on a little spin. She hadn’t had nearly enough to drink to bring on true bed spins but the nausea rose, making her sit up to keep from gagging.

  Making her way down to the foot of the bed, Grace limped to the large bathroom.

  "Grace?" Ryan’s voice rose behind her. "What is it?" His hand gripped her elbow, guiding her to the bathroom.

  "Stress, I think. But I’m okay." She leaned on the cool granite wall as Ryan ducked under the shower then emerged, grinning like a mad man. The wave of sickness passed leaving her weak in the knees. After about five minutes she splashed water on her face, Grace grabbed one of the thick hotel robes and followed Ryan back into the room.

  Henri’s smaller frame lay encircled by her husband, arms around hi
m, lips near his long hair. Grace blinked hard and came to terms with the new reality of her life. Exhaustion settled over her and she slipped out of the robe. Crawling back up between them, she settled herself, cradled by one and cradling another, both men breathing out, their words touching her soul before deep sleep fully overtook them. "Love you." Ryan breathed, half asleep, making her smile.

  Chapter Twelve

  Grace’s inner alarm clock woke her at nine a.m. Vegas time and she struggled to the surface. Lying alongside Ryan, who was on his back, one arm around her, while Henri spooned her from behind, the warmth of all their skin was making her sweat. The nausea washed over her again so she sat as the men stirred and mumbled. Grace made her clumsy way off the bed again, stumbling into the bathroom just in time to empty her stomach into the toilet.

  "Jesus," she muttered. "Must've gotten a bad strawberry."

  She jerked the shower on, turned on the extra side nozzles and stepped into the steamy interior. Using the luxurious shampoos and soaps, Grace let the hot water erase her earlier discomfort. She stretched up, relishing the soreness between her legs, looking forward to spending more time with her two men, when the nausea took her again and she bent double and retched in the shower. Wiping her mouth as she stood back up, a serious cramp in her lower stomach made her cry out in pain.

  "What the hell," she muttered as the pain and nausea passed as quickly as they came. Just what she needed. Food poisoning in Vegas now that she was learning Ryan’s deepest secret and learning to enjoy him as well.

  Grabbing a towel after turning the shower nozzles off, Grace wrapped herself up. After deciding the unhealthy green tinge did nothing for her complexion, Grace used a brush to tame her long hair and took a step back into the suite, her now empty stomach crying out for something substantial like pancakes or scrambled eggs.

  The sight in front of her made her stop dead and put a hand over her mouth. Ryan was on his knees in front of Henri, his mouth on the young man’s erect cock, his hand under his balls. Henri was sitting, leaning back on one arm, the other hand in Ryan’s thick hair. Shoving his hips up, forcing his cock further inside Ryan’s mouth, he groaned low and loud.

  "Oh God, now!" he yelled out. Ryan pulled his mouth up off Henri’s cock and flipped him around. Her husband shoved his cock inside the man’s ass hard, forcing him down onto the bed but not before Grace saw Henri come, the fluid spurting high up onto his stomach as Ryan entered him.

  Grace gasped and had to touch her clit as she reacted to the near violence of Ryan’s action as he fucked Henri while the young man lay prone, collapsed down on the bed, his ass tilted up to take Ryan’s penetration. Ryan shoved inside Henri fast and hard, the sight of his slick rod ramming in and out of Henri’s flesh nearly brought Grace to her knees. At the last moment Ryan pulled out, gave his cock a couple of jerks and came all over Henri’s ass and back.

  Ryan grunted, his body jerking forward with the effort of his orgasm before he collapsed onto Henri’s prone form. Her entire body clenched at the sight and Grace had to sit in a chair to absorb what she’d just seen, and been massively turned on by as a result. She watched as her husband rolled off Henri onto his back, and the young man positioned himself in the crook of Ryan’s arm, nestling in just like Grace liked to do. Ryan leaned over and kissed the top of Henri’s head as he threw a dark skinned leg over Ryan’s torso, snuggling in even closer. Something about this simple, tender gesture made Grace’s face redden and her breath catch in her throat. They were so beautiful lying there together. Tears leaked from her eye as she wrestled with the concept that her presence wasn’t required. They didn’t seem aware of her at all in fact as she stood on the far side of the large room. When she tiptoed back to the closet to grab some jeans and tee shirt, tears blurred her vision. Not sure why she was feeling so empty, Grace stumbled and dropped the shoe she was trying to slip on.

  "Grace?" Ryan called out. "You there?"

  "Yeah, I’m um, just gonna head downstairs. Need some coffee. I’m taking my computer so I can try and get some work done." She wiped the tears from her face. "Not feeling great so I won’t be good company. I’ll, ah, talk to you later, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, she punched the button to open the waiting elevator and disappeared inside the small, square space. The last look she caught was of Ryan, standing there in his naked glory running a hand over his face, worry in his eyes.

  ****

  "That was okay, wasn’t it?" Ryan laid down on the bed, his usual post-orgasmic stupor forming a cloud behind his eyes, forcing them shut. "I mean, I know I had a good time and I’m pretty sure she did too.” He started to rise and head for the bathroom to clean up.

  The next thing he knew, Ryan found himself on his hands and knees on the floor. Looking up, he frowned into Henri’s angry eyes glaring at him from his perch where’d he’d just dumped Ryan off the bed.

  "What the hell?" he turned around and sat on the plush rug beside the bed and ran a hand through his hair. "What was that for?"

  "You are such an ass, you know it?"

  Ryan raised his eyebrows. "At times." He leaned back on his hands, unsure what he’d done this time.

  Henri swung his bare feet around and faced Ryan, sitting above him, hands on his knees. Ryan looked up at the ceiling, trying to focus. His head pounded with the need for more sleep and something was niggling the back of his brain about Grace that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Leveling his eyes at his lover, he spoke without thinking.

  "She’s my wife. I think I know her better than you do so back off." Pushing himself up to stand, Ryan glared down at Henri who still sat without speaking.

  "You don’t know shit," the young man declared.

  "Really," Ryan crossed his arms over his chest. "Then pray tell what deep insight into her are you gonna lay on me now, oh swami of the female psyche?"

  "Like I’ve said before, women in general are a mystery. This one, however, is becoming clearer to me."

  "We had the deep talk already. I told her about my asshole father and my dead brother, hoping she’d get a handle on my difficulty with open communication. What more can I do?"

  "Jesus," Henri stood up and brushed past Ryan, grazing his shoulder. "You think one ‘real conversation’ means all is well? Damn it Ryan, the one thing I did learn being married for thirty minutes was that any woman worth marrying is worth communicating with. Constantly. They need it. You can’t just dump all that shit on her and expect her to just absorb it and move on."

  Ryan stared at the man as he emerged from the bathroom and yanked on his jeans.

  "So help me Ryan, this woman is worth the effort. If you won’t make it, I will."

  Ryan’s head spun. Henri was right. He’d left that next morning after the party, his gut in knots, and managed to finagle another trip just after the George Cinq week. They’d sunk back into their normal conversational ruts: Her new book progress, her sister’s kids, and updates about her dad. Ryan loved the normalcy of it all. It soothed him and made him feel safe and stable. But he hadn’t brought up Henri with her other than to explain who he was relative to Ryan’s business and he certainly hadn’t elaborated on the Liam story. He couldn’t. It ripped his guts out to even think about it, much less describe it to her. He knew she needed more.

  Ryan sighed and sat heavily in the chair Grace had vacated and watched as Henri slipped his feet into shoes. When he remembered their last night, the night he'd finally told her his most traumatic family story, his face flushed in a combination of fear and dread. He’d stopped her from using the diaphragm. Her face had looked puzzled but he knew she was pleased. Ryan knew he’d done it not out of any real change of heart on his part. The thought of children he could fuck up still made him ill. But Grace needed this so badly, she wanted to have their child. And Ryan wanted to make her happy.

  His phone buzzed across the marble table. Glancing at it, he noted the international number.

  "Ryan Sullivan," he barked into the device, eyes apologizing to the ang
ry man standing over him.

  ****

  "But, you just got here," Grace insisted as the three of them shared coffee and pancakes in the Aria’s large suite. She sat back and pouted as Henri patted her knee.

  "C’mon my darling, you know he’s married to the job before either of us."

  Ryan shot the man a murderous look. Henri’s gaze remained neutral. Grace pursed her lips.

  "Look, I have to be back in Detroit. I told Alice I’d stay with the girls for a long weekend so she and Trevor could get some time alone. You know, sort of like what we're supposed to be doing?"

  Ryan frowned.

  "Stay here as long as you like." Ryan stood, drained the last of his coffee and planted kisses first on Grace’s lips then Henri’s. "I’ll make it up to both of you."

  Henri turned to Grace and ran a dark hand down her face as she fought back tears. He was very special to her already but her heart was still heavy at the thought of Ryan going away yet again. Their opportunity to talk more about his childhood, for her to get a better handle of what made him so moody and angry, disappearing before her eyes once more.

  "I have to stay here this month. It’s high season. People expect the ‘celebrity’ part of the ‘celebrity chef’ thing to actually be around a bit. We’re booked solid the entire time. I gotta be here to do my thing. I’m sorry." Henri looked away.

  Grace felt anger surge through her brain. She stood so fast she sent the room service table flying. Henri grabbed his coffee cup off it as it skittered past him, his face calm and expectant. Ryan caught the table before it rammed into his legs, a look of surprise on his face. Fork still clutched in hand, she leveled a murderous stare at her husband.

  "Ryan Sullivan, you..." She felt her teeth grind together and the beginning of a stress headache forming behind her eyes. "Just last night you told me you had... him!” She pointed to Henri, who merely raised his coffee cup in acknowledgment. “You two fuck me then you leave? Are you serious?" Her breath was coming in gasps, rage boiling in her like thunderstorm clouds. She clamped down the urge to cry. That would do no good now. He’d ignore it, throw presents at her, anything to keep from facing the fact of his extreme selfishness.