Three Men and a Woman: Haidee (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

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Three Men and a Woman: Haidee (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 20

by Rachel Billings

Kristin shrugged in the face of Vashi’s challenging brow. “She can land it,” she said.

  “I heard that.” Haidee’s voice was clear and confident, but she acted like she didn’t hear Vashi’s curse. “It’s too late, anyway,” she said. “I’m coming in.”

  The wind was blowing the snow away from the hangar, so Vashi opened the big doors. He handed a disgruntled Nattie over to Maggie, pulled on his leather jacket, and headed out to the apron. The rest of the family, kids included, lined up just inside the doors, out of the snow.

  Haidee made her instrument landing pretty as you please. She taxied over to the hangar like there wasn’t most of a foot of snow threatening her maneuverability. Vashi stood watching, his hands on his hips.

  She met his gaze through the cockpit windshield as she approached. Then the bitch spun a neat one-eighty so her tail ended up practically in his face. She revved the twin engines so she hit him with a blast of snow from the propwash. He was covered in it as she shut down, and he didn’t have to look to know their audience was trying to hold back laughter. Not that hard, either.

  He stomped up to the wing exit and waited for her. He knew that, even twenty weeks pregnant, she’d hop down nimbly and light on her feet, but he didn’t let it happen. He grabbed her and lifted her down into his arms.

  Bringing her close, he made sure she got a little taste of his snow cover then he kissed her. “Good flying, pilot.”

  She kissed him back but looked up at him expectantly when it was over. She knew he wasn’t done with her.

  But he nudged her toward the hangar. “Go on in. I’ll stow it for you,” he said.

  Surprise lit her face, and she was a bit wary as she turned toward her little fan club. He stopped her in just a couple steps. “Haidee!” he hollered over the wind.

  She looked back.

  “I’m docking your pay.”

  Hands on her hips, she objected. “You can’t do that.”

  He nodded. “Oh, yes, I can.”

  She rolled her eyes, but he wasn’t done. “You’re with me tonight.” Then he made a fist and, with his other hand, gripped his wrist and slapped it a couple times, his not so subtle signal that she’d be cuffed and at his mercy before too many hours passed.

  That took just a little of the sass out of her, and he didn’t in the least try to suppress his smirk.

  * * * *

  Haidee wasn’t afraid of Vashi. Not really. He did have a temper on him sometimes, and he didn’t always hold back his domineering tendencies. Once in a sweet while, he let them run amok when the two of them played in his room. He still had the closet that opened to his specialty equipment, though he kept it locked now, and he’d adapted some of his apparatus to maximize pleasure for the three men and one woman who sometimes used it. With two children in the house and one on the way, they didn’t have as much opportunity for it as they once had.

  It was the one on the way that would save her this night. She’d rattled the tiger’s cage at the airport earlier, and, normally, she’d have to pay for it—not that she’d truly mind. Vashi was very skilled at doling out wicked pleasure, as well as taking it. But the guys were all half-afraid of her when she was pregnant and held themselves back from the roughest of their sex play. Which struck her as both sweet and a little frustrating all at once.

  With the airport closed, they’d all come home together. They put both kids in the back of Vashi’s SUV, and he brought her with him. Lev rode with Danya in his all-wheel-drive Wrangler, and those two stopped for take-out Mexican on the way. They all ate around their big table, a noisy and, at least in two cases, messy family.

  Before she’d even gotten up to wipe hands and faces, Vashi stood. “Kiss your children good night. Then go downstairs.”

  Lev sighed and got to his feet. He lifted Nattie out of her high chair. “Guess I’ve got you tonight, Punkin’. Say good night to Mama and Papa.” He held the girl to Haidee for her kiss then draped her over his shoulder and took her upstairs. As established by Nattie, Lev was “Dada,” and Danya was simply “Pa.”

  There were new rooms upstairs, an addition built to accommodate their growing family. Haidee had her own space there, and the kids had rooms, too, though they’d be sharing in a few more months.

  Danya grabbed his boy Fedir and passed him around for kisses. But he snuck in a kiss for Haidee himself, one that promised she’d see him later.

  Vashi paced close behind her as she went downstairs, like a predator on the hunt. She was already aroused when they got to his room.

  She saw he’d prepared for her ahead of time. He’d turned up the heat because, well, there was a blizzard howling outside and she was going to be naked soon. The closet was open…waiting for her.

  She halted a few paces away from that wall, hesitating a bit like a virgin before a sacrificial altar.

  A willing virgin, though. An eager one.

  Vashi stopped behind her, very close. She could see him hovering over her shoulder in the mirrors that were softly lit. He reached one hand behind his head and pulled his long-sleeved tee over and off. Then, when he removed hers—the same black Van’s shirt he wore—peeling it slowly, watching in the mirror what was revealed as he went, she felt the warmth of him against her back.

  Just that much—his dark form behind hers, the heat in his eyes and his skin where they touched, the hard planes of his muscled body—made her breath catch. He covered her breasts with his big hands, and she slid one arm up, capturing him and turning her face up for his kiss.

  “I am such a lucky woman,” she murmured before his lips descended.

  The kiss was long and sweet and deep. His gaze burned when he lifted again. “You’re not thinking to distract me from my purpose, are you?”

  As if. As if she could. As if she’d want to. But she didn’t say it out loud. She just shook her head, no.

  His gaze went back to the mirror, following the motion of his hands as he grasped the cups of her bra and bared her breasts. He took a good long look, appearing to enjoy the way her bra encased her, thrusting her breasts up for his pleasure. Then he ran his palms over her, chafing her nipples. When that wasn’t enough, he took her between thumbs and fingers, grasping her nipples, pulling them out, lengthening them.

  Haidee moaned and rocked back against him, giving a little payback by rutting her ass against his cock.

  “You witch,” he rumbled into her hair. He pinched her a little harder and then, without lessening his grasp, pulled his hands away, giving both nipples a little twang. “Meine hexe.”

  “Mmm.” It wasn’t quite a complaint—more a whimper of pleasure. She liked the look of herself now and was sure he did, too—her breasts thrusting out, the nipples erect and reddened.

  From behind, he unhooked her bra and stripped her of it. Then he went to work on her jeans, unbuttoning the fly slowly and spreading it open. A little band of white lace was visible and appeared to interest him.

  Vashi had started buying her underwear four years earlier. He had certain tastes, if she didn’t mind, he said. And, to both his pleasure and hers, he was pretty rough on her underthings. “Collateral damage,” he told her. “And well worth the cost.”

  He liked her in boy shorts and little bikinis with ties at each hip. And both bras and panties that had strategically placed openings.

  “It’s no kind of underwear for a pilot,” she’d once complained.

  “Good thing nobody but my brothers and I know what you have under your jeans and Van’s T-shirt. We wouldn’t want our clientele to lose all respect. Or get ideas,” he’d put in as an afterthought.

  He spoke the words, but she didn’t get the sense he had any real concern about it.

  Two gazes—his and hers—watched intently now as he slid his hand behind the lace. He stroked along her clit, not gently. His hand, dark against the white of the lace, moved up and down, the view of it nearly as erotic as the effect on her clit. His other hand was open over her abdomen, securing him for his pleasure.

  Dete
rminedly, with just his fingers in her panties, he brought her to the edge of orgasm. Then he left her there. She was panting, squirming against his hold on her, ineffectively gripping at his wrist to direct his fingers, trying for the last bit of stimulation that would send her over. But he contained her too closely, controlled her with the strength of his body and his will.

  He laughed in the face of her frustration. “Can’t come, baby? Too bad.” He leaned into her, nipping at her ear and then growling. “You’ll come when I say so. Not. Yet.”

  Stepping back from her, he stripped her of her jeans and undies. He gripped her by one wrist and led her to the closet. Pulling her wrist high so she was lifted onto her toes, he secured her in the leather strap. Knowing what he wanted, she cooperated as he bound her—both feet into leather bands that held her, legs spread, suspended off the floor, and her other wrist wrapped in leather, too. The bindings had been set now just for her, to make her open and vulnerable and at just the right height. For him.

  There was a padded bar behind her hips and he pulled it out a couple notches. That brought her pelvis forward, open and exposed with her legs spreading out behind her. Ready for him to fuck.

  On nights he had her facing the other way, he’d bring the bar out even further, draping her over it, her ass at the ready for his cock.

  But now, she was facing him, and he had other pleasures in mind.

  A second bar was situated up behind her shoulder blades. He pulled that out, too, causing her tits to thrust out. Standing back, he took a good look. He was pretty happy with his work, if the bulge in his pants was any indication. His eyes gleamed as he opened his fly and adjusted to make more room for himself. But he stayed tucked in, clearly not ready to give her the goods. There was something else on his mind.

  “So you like to play in the snow, huh?”

  Oh-oh. Vashi didn’t explain what he was doing but just left her to watch as he went to the glass doors that opened to his stone patio. He slid one open and stepped outside in nothing but his jeans.

  When he appeared again, he pushed the door closed with his ass. Because his hands were full—of snow.

  Haidee met the wicked gleam in his eyes. The man took his payback seriously.

  “Vashi Vanchenko, you are not going to do that.”

  “Haidee Vanchenko,” he responded, one eyebrow raised. “How are you going to stop me?”

  Well, she wasn’t, was the answer to that.

  He stepped close, the handfuls of snow now dripping water in sexy little rivulets down his forearms. Luckily, this was a relatively warm October blizzard, not as cold as it would be in, say, January.

  But cold enough, she determined, when he put one snow-filled hand up against her cunt. “Vashi, you bastard.”

  He grinned, keeping his one hand there and bringing the other to her breast. “Who’s your chief pilot, baby?”

  She didn’t answer and bit back her moan as he tortured one breast then the other with snow. It was…refreshingly erotic.

  “Who’s the boss of you?”

  With an evil look in his eyes, he pushed snow-cold fingers up her cunt, fucking in and out until she caved. “You, you…son of a bitch.”

  He chuckled and walked away. She didn’t have to guess whether he was done with her.

  Knowing how to build drama, Vashi silently went outside again. When he came back, he carried the ceramic bowl that was usually filled with fruit and sitting on their kitchen counter. Now, it was mounded with snow.

  He set it near her hip, on a little shelf that pulled out from his magic wall. It was just out of her line of sight but, somehow, she knew what was coming anyway. His hands were busy as he spoke. “Someone left some things out in the cold. It must have been by accident.”

  Uh-huh. The first “something” was a butt plug. He used nothing more for lubrication than the snow that covered it as he put it right where he wanted it. By the feel of it, Haidee knew it was his favorite—large, ribbed, and battery operated.

  She shivered with the cold thrust of it, with the not-quite-slippery lube of melting snow. And again, when he stroked it in and out of her. “Oh, God, Vash.”

  “That’s my girl.” He left the plug deep inside, vibrating, then filled both his hands with snow, covered her breasts, and kissed her. He kept the kissing up for a good long time—enough time for her nipples to become numb with the cold. When he finally lifted away, both his hands and her torso dripped with snowmelt.

  He reached into the bowl for more of his specialty torture devices. When he faced her again, he said, “Watch this.”

  She looked down as he grasped one reddened nipple. She barely felt it as he tugged on it, elongating it, and placed a frozen nipple clamp over it. He did the same with the other and then covered both with his hands, palming her. “I imagine this will begin to sting a bit, as the cold wears off.”

  Haidee imagined it would, too.

  He leaned in to kiss her again, heating both of them up. Out of sight, his hands were still busy. He’d pulled his cock out—she felt the heat of it between her legs. But she felt cold, too—a touch, and then an…insertion. After a few moments, she understood what he was doing. He formed small balls of snow, just big enough to make themselves known when he rubbed them over her clit and then shoved them up her pussy. He did it three, then four times.

  And followed it all—the chafing over her clit, the shoving up her cunt—with his cock.

  Until she was way full—of him, of dripping snow.

  He groaned, shoved harder into her, and slid his hands up her body, over the nipple clamps that were, indeed, setting off quite a tingle now, and up her arms to twine his fingers with hers. His chest was pressed hard against her, roughing against her pinched nipples.

  He scraped his teeth along the crook of her neck and groaned once more. “This feels pretty good, baby.”

  No shit. It was wildly stimulating—the cold in her pussy countered by the heat of his cock. The vibration and fullness in her ass. The wicked titillation of her nipples. And him, Vashi, her love, filling her, covering her, making her his in every way.

  His fingers closed hard over hers, a heart-stirring indication of the extent of his passion. A shudder rocked through him, a final indication of what was to come.

  And then it came, the storm of his wild desire, the blatant demonstration of his primal need. He pulled out of her once, thrust back in, deep, and let loose. He fucked her—stimulating himself against the bits of snow left inside her, slamming against her clit, thrilling her with a kind of majestic, unrestrained animalism. He growled and plastered himself against her—his chest chafing her breasts, the length of his arms brushing firmly along hers, his hands gripping. Melted snow dripped from him and from her, soaking her pussy, cooling even as he heated her, streaming down her breasts and legs.

  He thundered into her, hard, muscled strokes that lifted her against her bindings, that loosed her from conscious thought, that demanded a response every bit as feral as his. They both panted and groaned, his curse words matched by her witless pleas…for more, of all things, more.

  He gave it to her. He slipped one hand down to her ass and worked the butt plug. Angling it deep, he tortured them both with it. Endlessly, he fucked her, driving them both beyond what seemed possible.

  There was no further discussion of when she would come, no negotiation of power. What was between them took them both until they were lost in it, until she screamed and he howled, until they cried out in orgasm, a pain-edged, pleasure-drenched climax that shook them, rocked them, left them spent.

  Vashi fell onto her, clenching at her wrist bindings for his own support, sagging his head onto her shoulder, slipping his only slightly softened cock out of her. Haidee’s head hung over his bicep on one side. As her eyes rolled, she caught sight of Lev standing in the doorway.

  He’d changed out of his business clothing and wore only a pair of pajama pants. Likely, he’d been watching for a while, because there was significant tenting at the front. He
wandered into the room, carrying a baby monitor with him, one she was entirely certain listened in on a sleeping Nattie, and set it on the bedside table.

  She’d never tried to explain to any of the brothers how incredibly sexy it was, the natural care they took for their children. Both Nattie and Fedir, even Vivvie, knew without doubt that there would be a warm welcome for them on any of the men’s laps or shoulders at any time. They would feed or bathe or tuck into bed any child who needed it, an unselfconscious response that seemed to arise out of their basic characters.

  Lev would tuck Nattie into bed and hightail it downstairs to fuck Haidee, but he wouldn’t for a moment think to leave the monitor behind. And if he got busy and Natalya fussed, it would just as easily be Vash who ran upstairs to tend to her.

  They all acted like it was normal, each of them all in, in love with the kids with not a single concern about who had fathered them biologically.

  In quiet moments, it brought tears to her eyes, stirring her heart. In moments like this, it brought heat to her core, stirring her body.

  Vashi lifted his head, aware now of Lev’s presence. He cupped Haidee’s face with his hands and kissed her. It was a sweet, loving kiss, an acknowledgment of what they’d shared. The final little nip he gave her was all Vashi, a reminder of his power over her.

  He stepped aside to let his brother move in front of her. Lev put one hand to her cheek and kissed her softly. “Hello, wife.”

  She smiled, as satisfied with the term as he was. “Lev.”

  He looked her up and down. “Just what has my brother done to you?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. Gently, he loosened the clamps and took them away then soothed her red, inflamed nipples with his tongue.

  She moaned in both relief and pleasure. “Lev.”

  “What did he do with this snow, baby?” He lifted his head to look at her, then glanced over at Vashi who’d found a place to rest his ass and watch. “Don’t tell me,” he went on. “Let me guess.”

  He took a pinch of snow and rubbed it over her lips. It was warmer now, dripping easily, and he ran his tongue along in the wake of it, collecting the drops. He put it into her mouth, then kissed her until it melted and she swallowed it down. Just like in her pussy, it was an arousing mix of heat and cold. He did it a couple more times, kissing her and giving her that cool invasion and small drink.

 

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