Shine: Wild Love Series

by Red L. Jameson

  I kiss Paul over my shoulder, which is always awkward. But with him, like this, it’s sweet. He’s tender, affectionate. And so eager. Not in an intimidating or annoying way. He just wants me to catch up to him, to want what he wants. His hands again find my breasts and when I arch against him, I feel his nude lower half. He’d been holding me away from his erection, but I love feeling it against me. He’s hard, straining against me.

  He might be trying to rein in his desire for me, and that turns me on. Our kiss deepens, even in this awkward position, his tongue is stroking mine. I’m trying to reciprocate.

  Then he lifts my body a few more inches. I’m still on my shins and knees, closing my eyes, so eager for what might come next. A wet tongue slides down my core, from my clit to my opening. I gasp, looking down at Chris’s face under me. He takes hold of one of my hips then ushers me down farther, while Paul’s caressing my breasts, kissing my neck and shoulder.

  Chris’s tongue enters me and I can’t help but scream a little. I hope not too loudly. It’s just gorgeous, delicious—his wet tongue inside me, then slowly thrusting in and out of me.

  “Feel good?”

  I can’t answer Paul. I’ve returned to feeling like my body is just raw sexual nerves that the men are plucking. I can only feel every move they make, how divine all of this is.

  Paul leaves one of my breasts. “I’m going to touch your ass, okay?”

  I nod, not sure if he means my cheeks or—

  Oh, he must have licked his finger, because what meets my tight back opening is warm and wet. Almost like a tongue, like the tongue that’s plunging in and out of me. And nothing about this scares me. After Tim had bungled with my first anal sex experience, I have to admit I wondered why any woman, or man for that matter, would want it. It’d hurt so much, not just physically, but I was fairly certain Tim had noticed how I’d shut down and started to cry. I know I should have told him to stop. But I often wondered why he didn’t when I was crying. I thought it was a sign that he didn’t care about me. Didn’t love me.

  As Paul’s barely touching me back there, leaving teasingly flirty caresses, I push away all thoughts about Tim, and the worry that as soon as the men have had their fun, they’ll leave. I won’t think about that now. I can’t. It will break my heart to think about these three men no longer looking at me the way they do now.

  “Does it feel good, honey?” Paul centers me with the question, returning me to heaven on earth here on my bed.

  I nod and moan.

  “Real good?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m going to stick my finger inside you now. If you ever want me to stop, I will.”

  I doubt I would have believed that if Tim had said it. But for whatever reason I trust Paul, and I nod.

  He doesn’t push in very far, just a tiny bit, and I’m surprised my body wants more. I moan again as Chris switches to my clit, licking me there, sometimes sucking me in, pulling me into a dark haze of a world filled only with pleasure. Paul’s gently pushing his finger in and out. Every time he’s in, he’s just a tiny bit deeper.

  “Still good, honey?”

  “Yes. So good.”

  I hear Gabe chuckle and open my eyes to find him. He’s leaning back against my headboard, staring at me, at what’s happening to me.

  I reach out to him. “I’m sorry. I’m forgetting you.”

  He laughs again. “I want to watch this. I want to watch you come again. Cup your breast, Jane.”

  I do. The crotch of his jeans jumps. I smile. “I want you to touch yourself.”

  He arches one brow. “Sure?”

  I nod, hardly able to with whatever Chris is doing. God, he’s good. He’s flicking at the nub between my legs so much I think I might scream again.

  Gabe unzips himself and out springs the most perfect long and wide cock I’ve ever seen. I shouldn’t think that. But Gabe…oh Gabe…his dick is creamy, veiny, with a happy pink tip. The crisp dark hair surrounding his member is cut short. And I worry if he’s more manicured than I am. I haven’t had sex in years, so I never thought about cutting my nearly translucent curls.

  I hope they like my crazy blonde bush. I hope they like it so much.

  “Jane,” Gabe says as he strokes himself once.

  I moan and nod, sucking in a finger between my needy lips.

  “Lean down and give Chris head again.” Gabe clears his throat. “Please.”

  I think the please is especially for me. I think he’d meant to ask, but he’s turned on, and so hard, and a drop of him comes out the slit of his pink head. I want to lick it, but he smears the moisture into his flesh.

  Then I follow Gabe’s orders, bending down and reaching for Chris’s staff. He moans. And I’m so happy, so terribly happy that I don’t lick him or tease him. I just suck him in as far as I can take him.

  “I’m going to put another finger in you, honey.” I vaguely know this is Paul asking, and I say yes between my hurried strokes of Chris’s cock.

  The stretching, the added tension from my backside turns me into a frenzy of need.

  “Fuck, Jane, you’re going to make me come,” Chris groans as I sense he’s reaching for my pussy. Within a second, his finger is inside me.

  Paul and Chris work in a rhythm and the combination is crazy. I had no clue how good this could be. This is why people like anal sex. It adds another dimension to what is already an absurdly wonderful thing.

  “I’m putting three fingers inside you, honey,” Paul says. “Just tell me if it’s too much.”

  But it’s not. I’m threading the line between pain and pleasure. No, Paul is doing that for me. But I feel so much pleasure from the experience that whatever is uncomfortable is factored out. My brain and body won’t let me even think about it.

  “Did you bring lube?” I think Gabe asks Paul.

  “Yeah,” Paul grunts. “In the box with the condoms.”

  I stop for just a second, long enough to look at Gabe. He’s smiling down at me, slowly, so slowly stroking his perfect dick that I can’t wait to sit on.

  “You going to make Chris come?” he asks.

  I smile then return to Chris’s thick member, sucking and twisting at the very tip of him. It’s one thing I learned from my husband. He told me it made oral sex amazing. And Chris makes a new kind of moan, one of appreciation, great appreciation.

  Chris reaches around my hips with both hands and has me sit on his face with renewed fervor. He’s licking my clit so hard I can’t hear. I can’t think. I say yes to something, and my backside is left alone. Then Paul’s blunt tip of his cock presses against me, my back opening.

  Chris is flicking harder, I’m sucking faster, then Paul enters me. Just an inch, if even that. But my orgasm rips through me.

  Paul’s moaning. “That’s two.”

  “Jane—baby—” and then Chris joins me. His cock pumps his seed into my mouth. Hot sprays shoot into my top palate. I swallow him as I keep bobbing my head down, making him moan. His hips buck. I love watching him like this. I love that I made him like this. Helpless to the pleasure. Like I am. He’s moaning and thrusting and finally he stops licking me to hold my head still.

  “Sorry, baby,” Chris hoarsely whispers. “But you’re going to blow my mind if you don’t stop.” He maneuvers his body lower and lower until we’re face to face, then he kisses me. It’s long and sweet.

  Paul carefully begins thrusting again, and I’m not sure if my orgasm has ceased or what I feel. I’m so sweetly satisfied I don’t know what to call it.

  And I love kissing Chris like this in a Spiderman, upside-down way. I love that he tastes like me and I taste like him. He licks my lips then smiles up at me. “We’re doing that again.”

  I can’t help but smile. I’m not sure if he’s just saying sweet things because he’s just come, but I love it.

  Paul wraps his arms around me and has me straighten slightly against him. He’s caressing my breasts again, whispering against my ear. “Does this feel good?”r />
  “God, yes.”

  “It doesn’t hurt?”

  I shake my head.

  He pushes a little farther into me. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t ever want to hurt you, honey. You’re so precious to me. It was so fucking hard to be a gentleman on our little dates, meeting and having coffee and not kissing you, not touching you was killing me.”

  I’m moved beyond words by what Paul’s confessing.

  “Rub your clit, honey.”

  I do. He moans.

  “God, you feel good.”

  “I do? Back there?”

  I feel his cheek smile against mine. “Yeah, honey. God, yeah.” He’s still gently pushing in and out. I love his patience. I love his consideration. He’s so tender with me.

  I lean forward slightly. “More.”

  Paul huffs then gives me a little more of himself.

  I bend down on the bed again, circling around my clit, making everything he’s doing feel powerful and surged with Paul’s thoughtfulness. “More,” I ask.

  He pushes himself a little more into me. “I’m almost there, honey. Does it feel good?”

  “Yes.” And it does. My one arm holding me up buckles and I fall on my chest, arching my back. I’m still touching myself and I can’t believe how wet I feel. This is so good.

  Paul pushes a little more, making a grunting noise. He’s filling me. I can feel his stomach against my ass. I don’t know how I’m holding him, but I am, and though I am uncomfortable, the pleasure is greater.

  Paul leans over me, very gently moving now. “Honey, you still good?”

  “Yes.”

  “I want you to sit on Gabe’s lap. I want his cock in your pussy. You want that?”

  I look up. Gabe’s nostrils are flaring. His blue, blue gaze is focused on me.

  I nod. “God, yes. I want you inside me.”

  13

  Paul scoops me up, shuffling both of us in tandem toward Gabe.

  And there’s my police officer, startled, looking unsure. I swallow, worried what he must think of me. Suddenly Paul’s invasion of my body is too much. Pain knives through me.

  “What’s wrong?” Paul asks, halting, embracing me around my chest and stomach, holding me tenderly, sweetly.

  Looking into Gabe’s skeptical gaze, I can’t hide my shame. I’d given in to my desire. I’d been greedy and taken without thinking. My shame is a palpable monster always caging me in, where I fly against the bars, bruising myself even further. Does Paul, still so connected to me, feel my wounding shame?

  “Am I hurting you, honey?” Paul whispers, reminding me of my body, of this moment.

  When I take back my own weight, he slowly pulls out of me, carefully, gently.

  He’s lovely for being that considerate. But I can’t look at any of the men on my bed. I’m humiliated. I can’t believe I’ve let my passion, my desire for sex lead me to this…to this rather unorthodox position. They all think less of me. I can see it in Gabe’s eyes.

  I rush from the room to the en suite bathroom. I hope they’ll leave. I may never see Chris or Gabe again, but I’ll see Paul. I’ll remember the way he felt in my body, and I’ll remember this shame forever.

  A soft knocking at the door startles me. I don’t know why. These men are the most considerate I’ve ever met. My mind races trying to think of an excuse, something to get them to leave.

  “Jane.” I’m surprised to hear Gabe’s gruff voice. The way he’d been looking at me made me think he’d like to run even more than I do. Oh, I’m so good at running. I hope they are too.

  “Jane, did I do something wrong?” Gabe asks.

  “No.” I try to calm my voice but it comes out warbled and too emotional.

  “You don’t want me.”

  I almost laugh. How could he think that? I would do anything to have sex with him, to feel him inside me.

  “Of course I want you,” I say to the door, frowning at it, feeling ridiculous. I catch sight of my reflection in the large mirror over the sink. I’m so pale in the gray light filtered through the one hazy window in this room. I look like an apparition, my hair and skin devoid of color. I am a ghost.

  I ran away from danger, from getting killed. But then I plunged head first into a relationship, my marriage. And I stayed there with a man who—I can’t keep blaming Tim for everything that goes wrong with me. My husband wasn’t the one who stayed in our marriage. I was. I broke myself by staying. I’m a ghost of who I once was. I was a girl who ran to my freedom. I was so strong I was admired on national TV. Now people would laugh at me for being so…needy. Or maybe that girl who ran never existed. Maybe I hadn’t survived, after all.

  Utterly shocking me, Gabe opens the door and walks into the bathroom. I scurry from him, as if he’s come to beat me. God, I’m being an idiot.

  Softly, he closes the door. His eyes scan down my body. He’s still hard, not as much as earlier when he’d been stroking himself, but his not-flaccid penis makes me want to swoon. I’m on a serious rollercoaster of emotions, and I kind of hate myself for it.

  “You want me?” He points at his chest.

  By the shower, the cold lip of the tub kissing the back of my calves, I nod.

  “Then why are you in here?”

  “I saw the way you looked at me.” I can’t believe I’ve said this. Of course, it’s the truth, but it’s also revealing myself. And I feel so damned vulnerable I want to break the thick frosted glass of the bathroom’s window and run from here.

  Gabe takes a step closer to me, his dark brows furrowed. “How did I look at you?”

  “You’re disgusted with me.”

  Now he’s mad. He takes a huge breath, moving his giant chest, all his muscles clenching. “You’re a mind reader? Is that it? Because I wasn’t thinking that at all. Tell me, what number am I thinking of?”

  He’s sarcastic and making a hell of a point, but it hurts all the same. I cross my arms over my bare chest, trying hard not to shiver or cry.

  He takes another giant breath and then another step closer. He’s acting like he’s breaking a green colt. I’m not wild any longer. I’ve domesticated myself in the hopes I would be lovable.

  “I’m not disgusted.”

  I swallow, gauging his words, him.

  He takes another step closer. He’s about two feet away, but it’s near enough to feel his body’s warmth. I want to lean against him, touch him all over.

  “Are you disgusted with yourself? With me?”

  “Not with you,” I answer. Too honestly.

  He sighs. I feel it on the top of my head and he steps toward me again, caressing my arms. “Why are you disgusted with yourself, Jane?”

  For letting this happen. I didn’t want to lose any of you, but I will. By being so needy, so greedy, you, Chris, and Paul will leave me.

  Gabe leans forward to kiss the top of my head. “Jane, sweetie, you have to stop being so hard on yourself.”

  I glare up at him. “How do you know if I’m hard on myself?”

  “Is this the first time you’ve sexually experimented?”

  I don’t answer because for whatever reason I’m angry at him for telling me to stop being so hard on myself.

  “Have you experimented like this before?” I ask instead.

  He shakes his head. “No, but—no. Have you had sex with anyone else after your husband?”

  I purse my lips but shake my head.

  “Was your husband your first?”

  I nod, even more angry at him, at me.

  “And now you’re having sex with three men. At once. Wow.”

  I wish I had more room to backup, but I’m stuck. He’s cornered me.

  “Do you want to stop? You want us to leave?”

  “Why are you doing this in the first place?” I blurt out.

  He slowly nods. “Fair question. I can’t answer for the other guys, but I’m here because of you. When I met you, even here, now, I feel so…drawn to you, like Chris said. This is rare for me. This pow
erful of an attraction—”

  “For me too,” Chris hollers through the door. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping and you can call me all the names you want, the both of you. But I’m worried.

  “I like you, Jane. I haven’t felt like this…ever. And Gabe tell her she’s not disgusting.”

  Gabe actually chuckles as he’s looking over his shoulder. Then he’s gazing down at me, his smile dimming. “You’re not disgusting.”

  “Not even close,” Chris yells. “You’re beautiful and so sexy.”

  “Did you hear Chris?” Gabe asks.

  “Yes,” I choke. “Thank you, Chris.”

  “You’re welcome, baby.”

  Gabe takes another breath and I’m amazed by his chest all over again. “Granted, I don’t know you well. I think Paul knows you the best since you work together and apparently had a few dates. And maybe you’re not the person I think you are. But—” He swallows. “—But what scares me in equal measure as it intrigues me is maybe you are exactly who I think you are. And I want that, Jane. I want you, the woman who seems so strong yet vulnerable enough to maybe one day love me. The woman who makes me laugh. Who I feel comfortable enough to be myself. I want you. And sometime this morning, I think all of us figured we feel the same. So…that means sex. With all of us, I guess.”

  “For this morning?”

  “Are you asking if we want sex with you this morning and only this morning or…?”

  “Yes,” I again choke out.

  “I can’t answer for them, but I’m here, babe, until you kick me out. This isn’t a onetime deal for me.”

  “Not for me either,” Chris yells.

  “Of course, it’s not for me either,” Paul also says loudly through the door.

  “I know it’s fast,” Gabe continues. “And maybe having sex so soon was too fast for you?”

  I shake my head, feeling braver after the men admitted they might stick around. Of course, right away something in me niggles that the men are lying, they couldn’t possibly want me for more than just sex. But I do my damnedest to not listen.