Striking a Chord (Siren Publishing PolyAmour)

by Mary K. Preston

  “What?” Her hips continued moving of their own accord, Paolo’s fingers stroking along her canal, his thumb pressing against the little bead of pleasure above.

  “Go to Nick,” Paolo said, sweetly. “Take his mind off all this. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you two.” He stroked her more firmly from the inside, his breath hot against her skin. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’ve seen you, too, tesoro mio. You want him.” Angharad shook her head, unable to make sense of anything Paolo was saying.

  “Are you—is this—I don’t…”

  Paolo nibbled on her neck, swinging his body to cover hers, his hand still between her legs, driving all ability to think rationally away. “I love you, amore mio, but I know you. I know Nick.” He kissed her lips, her forehead. “You’re just what he needs. And I know you won’t mind doing it.” Angharad clutched Paolo close, willing him to stop speaking. The world was shifting around her. Her eyes weren’t able to stay open. Paolo’s lips pressed to her ear. “My sweet girl,” he whispered, “say yes for me.” His fingers probed deeper, his thumb rubbing against her, his lips soft against her skin.

  “Yes,” Angharad had said, not sure whether she was responding to his request or his touch and not caring. Paolo found her sweet spot again, kissing her deeply to swallow her moans as she writhed and arched beneath him, tumbling over the edge into orgasm. Paolo had held her tightly to him while she shuddered, her body feeling almost ripped apart by the intensity of the pleasure coursing through her so many times already that evening that she’d lost count.

  “I need to stop now,” Angharad had said, clinging to Paolo, the room swooping and moving around her. Paolo gently stroked her body all over while she recovered, her legs twitching, her body curling up to him.

  When she was able to think again, she was instantly apprehensive. “Are you breaking up with me?” she asked him, confused at the turn of conversation during such a devastatingly hot moment. Paolo’s eyes widened and he held her more tightly.

  “No, tesoro mio. I’m not giving you up at all. I want you to help Nick, get him out of this spiral he’s convinced he needs to be in. I know my secret sex pot can lure him out.” He had kissed her on the lips, kissed her fingers. “I know you’re hot for him, darling. And I know that if he hadn’t been married when I met you, I would’ve had a run for my money to win your heart.” Angharad had blushed, shaking her head in instinctive denial. “I’ve got eyes, sweetheart. I don’t mind it. I want Nick healthy and happy again. And I know you’ll enjoy yourself. From what I hear, he’s a great lay.” Paolo had tucked her head against his shoulder. “All I can ask is that you try.”

  Chapter Seven

  Angharad woke with a start, her eyes opening on the sight of Paolo standing over her, peering down. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he said, leaning in to kiss her. “How did it go with Nick?” Angharad smiled at the eagerness in Paolo’s voice.

  “It went well,” she said, trying to think. How should she go about telling her boyfriend that she had had phenomenal sex with his best friend? That she had made a date with said friend a few days in the future. Was that even what Paolo had wanted? Angharad felt herself blushing involuntarily, her mind supplying a vivid image of Nick on top of her and the sensation of the hard, cool surface of his coffee table against her back. Did Paolo really want to know any of the details of how extremely well Nick fucked? “I made him eat some steak and salad. I was going to go over there again in a couple of days.”

  Paolo nodded, helping her to sit up. “He called Sylvain and said he wanted to work in the studio for a bit tonight.” Paolo’s reedy, sweet voice was full of joy for the development. Angharad pulled him onto the couch next to her and laid her head in his lap. Was he really that happy that she had screwed his best friend? Angharad wondered. She had always felt at ease with Paolo, right up until he had asked her to seduce his friend. And now that she had, she found herself more confused than she had ever felt—it wasn’t cheating if the boyfriend not only knew, but encouraged the third-party sex, was it? But somehow, Angharad felt guilty. Should she have enjoyed it less? Angharad tried not to think of specifics, but the way Nick had taken over the seduction was too vivid in her mind to think of vaguely. Angharad pushed aside all thoughts of Nick, looking up at Paolo instead.

  “What do you want to do tonight?” she asked him, closing her eyes as his fine, artistic fingers worked their way into her hair, careful not to tangle it. There was something so calming about the way he ran his hands through her hair.

  “My friend Valerie’s got a show that opened last night, photography and mixed media.” Angharad nodded sleepily. “Do you have to be in early tomorrow?” Angharad thought about it, yawning and stretching, opening her eyes to look up at Paolo’s face. When he looked at her like that, it was as if she were the only person in the world. She couldn’t stifle the smile that came to her face.

  “I’ve got a meeting at one, but since I turned in my article day before yesterday, I don’t need to be in before that.” Paolo’s smile broadened.

  “In that case, I want you over to my place tonight.”

  Angharad felt her cheeks heat up again at the intimate tone of his voice, felt herself smiling in the silly, besotted way she couldn’t quite help. There was something in the way Paolo treated her that made her feel uniquely special, intensely desired. It was different from the way Nick had treated her in some way she couldn’t quite put a finger on. Some aspect of Nick’s desire was possessive, where Paolo’s intent was something brighter, more pure. It would be so easy to fall in love with Nick, and it almost bothered Angharad to realize that she could respond just as readily to his confident, predatory commands as she did Paolo’s sweet, tender teasing and enthusiasm. If she did fall in love with Nick, would Paolo accept it? There was something in his kindness and tenderness towards her that made Angharad fear ever doing something that would lose his good opinion.

  “Only if you don’t keep me up until seven in the morning,” she replied, raising an eyebrow at him. Paolo chuckled, lifting her from his lap to kiss her deeply. Angharad loved the taste of Paolo’s lips, the honey sweetness with a hint of spice.

  “Poor little girl,” Paolo cooed, finishing the kiss on her forehead. “All tired out from playing.” He pulled her more fully into his lap, wrapping his arms around her, nuzzling her neck. “I’ll let you have a nap in between, how about that?” Angharad giggled, the sound turning into a gasp when his teeth nibbled.

  “I think that’s doable,” she replied, dragging herself free of Paolo’s arms and laying a kiss on his chin. “For now I need a shower.”

  “Wear the cute panties,” Paolo suggested as she walked toward her bedroom. “The plaid ones.” Angharad smiled to herself, casting a look over her shoulder to see Paolo’s eyes on her, appreciating the curves of her body in motion. He had begged her to let him draw her lying in bed in the green plaid bra-and-panty set, said he loved the way the plaid looked against her body. She had finally conceded, enjoying the focused expression on his face as his hands limned her in charcoal, his fingers blackening as he shaded and smudged. She hadn’t thought of herself as particularly special until she had seen the work his talented hands had wrought. Somehow she had never seen the softness in herself. She had never seen the dreaminess he had captured so carefully, never given thought to her hair other than to arrange it attractively. In Paolo’s picture, she was nymphlike, laying on her side and looking straight at him, a kind of innocent curiosity in her eyes. To be beautiful in his eyes made her beautiful.

  Angharad plucked the requested panties out of her chest of drawers, along with its matched bra, stepping into her bathroom with far less ambivalence than she had the last time. She gave herself the luxury of a long shower, stretching and yawning, letting the hot water sluice over her. Paolo hadn’t given her a timeframe to get ready, which meant, in his unspoken code, that he had no particular time in mind to arrive at the gallery. Angharad got clean from head to toe, blessing the forethought of having saved up and
invested in laser hair removal. She still had to shave occasionally, maybe once or twice a month, but the convenience of extra time had been worth the pain of saving. She stepped out of the shower and dried herself off thoroughly, slipping into her underthings and throwing a robe made of T-shirt fabric over.

  When she stepped back out into the living room, still drying her hair, she felt Paolo’s arms around her immediately and leaned into him, inhaling the smell of citrus, sweat, smoke, and cedar, the familiar Paolo scent. Angharad gave herself the indulgence of comparing it to Nick’s spicy scent of warm patchouli and woody herbs, a smell like a dark forest. It was tricky, she thought, thinking of the one in the arms of the other. She promised herself that at some point, she would question Paolo about how long this was supposed to last. Not now, she told herself, feeling the urge and resisting it. Later, when I have a better handle on what I want. But a quiet voice in the back of her mind commented that she was already leaning towards the relationship with Nick lasting a while, whether or not she wanted to admit it to herself. Angharad felt Paolo’s hands at the knot of her sash, the cool air against her skin as he opened her robe. The look on his face was that of a boy opening a particularly anticipated Christmas present, and Angharad grinned, blushing, fighting the urge to hide.

  “I love this on you,” Paolo said, his hands going to her waist. “I wish I could see you just like this all the time.” Angharad laughed.

  “It’d get a little cold in winter,” she commented, raising her arms to drape them around his shoulders. She forgot sometimes how well made his shoulders were, the muscle not thick but dense, the broadness.

  “Even better,” Paolo insisted, kissing her lips and then moving to her jaw, her neck, her shoulder. “I’d have to keep you warm all the time, keep you in bed with me, all wrapped up in blankets.” Angharad smiled at the picture, tilting her head to one side to give Paolo better access to sensitive flesh.

  “Mm, and apart from the blankets, how would you keep me warm?” Angharad asked, barely keeping her eyes open. Paolo looked at her face from the corner of his eye, one of his bright smiles forming on his face.

  “I think you know damned well how I’d keep you warm, tesoro mio,” he said, his hands moving down to her hips. Angharad felt him pick her up and couldn’t quite fight back a squeal of surprise, dissolving into laughter as he carried her into the bedroom.

  “I thought we had a show to go to,” she said as Paolo laid her gently down.

  “There’s never that much hurry,” he told her, measuring his length on top of her, his hands moving to slip off the robe she wore. Angharad helpfully sat up, kissing Paolo hungrily. Her craving for him was so different from her lust for Nick, she thought. That was a thought for later, she told herself as Paolo’s hands glided over her skin, freeing one of her breasts from the confines of her bra. His mouth immediately claimed her nipple, his tongue lapping gently while he suckled, his hands caressing her all over, freeing her other breast. His fingers went to work quickly, and he rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, sending jolts of pleasure through her that went straight to her pussy. She could feel herself getting immediately wet, her muscles tightening in anticipation. Angharad’s hormones were on such a high from so much sex in such a short time that she felt her body tingling all over with arousal. “Mmm, tesoro mio, I wish I could get you all turned on like this and just immediately draw you, you’re so delicious-looking.” Paolo’s hands slid the thin fabric of her panties down, leaving her bra, useless as it was at the moment, in place. He laid kisses all over her breasts, collected her hand, and brought her wrist to his lips. Angharad hadn’t known how Paolo had figured out that particular erogenous zone, but his hot breath against her sensitive skin was always a sure way to drive her crazy with lust. Paolo’s gaze found her half-closed eyes, and he smiled, kissing her wrist, and then her palm, and then each finger before pulling her up into a sitting position. His hands moved from her body to the fly of his jeans, and Angharad felt the familiar pulse of need, watching him unbutton and then unzip, seeing the emergence of dark-dark curls, the knowledge of how little stood between her wet, hot cunt and his thick, well-formed cock.

  Paolo pushed his jeans down off of his hips and slid off of the bed to remove them the rest of the way, and Angharad feasted her eyes on the sight of his pale-olive skin, lightly muscled legs, and the thatch of almost-black hair around his erection. The sight of him so fully aroused almost made Angharad’s mouth water. She always had the urge, when he undressed, to derail his intentions and take him in her mouth right away. He really had a gorgeous cock, and Angharad loved the slightly sweet taste of him, loved the way he ran his fingers through her hair so gently and never took advantage of her, never tried to force her to take more than she could handle. Paolo climbed back onto the bed, between her legs in an instant, and smiled at her. On hands and knees, he leaned forward and kissed her on the tip of her nose before moving to her lips, his hands finding her hips and lifting her up onto him. Angharad moaned as she felt herself sinking onto him, felt her body yield to the intrusion of his cock. She pushed back the thought that he was thicker than Nick, but not quite as long as he filled her, his hands squeezing her buttocks and his teeth worrying her bottom lip. His cock was thick enough that every time they had sex, she felt so wonderfully filled up, her body never quite getting used to the sensation no matter how many times they fucked.

  Angharad wrapped her arms around his shoulders, twisted her hips to slow down his steady penetration. Paolo chuckled, a heady, sexy sound in her ears, and went to work on her neck, her shoulders, thrusting up into her slowly, every movement driving him deeper inside. Angharad moved her hips in counterpoint, kissing whatever part of him she could reach, delighting in the feel of his chest against hers. Paolo wrapped one arm firmly around her hips, keeping her close, while his other brought one breast or the other to his mouth for attention, or brought her face to his for a deep kiss. She heard herself moaning every time his lips claimed one of her nipples and he teased her with his tongue, sucking and even playfully nipping as if his only intention was to keep her nipples as hard as possible.

  Angharad waited until Paolo was fully occupied and unwrapped her arms from his shoulders, planting her hands on his chest and pushing him down, tumbling with him back onto the bed. Paolo grinned up at her, his laughter at her strategy making his chest vibrate against her skin. Angharad pivoted her hips until she could only feel the tip of him inside of her and then sat back on her heels, slowly sinking down onto him and moving in tiny twists of her body, trapping him and controlling the speed of his penetration entirely. Paolo’s hands went from her hips to her breasts, massaging them, his fingertips finding her nipples and teasing them until they grew almost painful from the attention and then gliding back down to her hips to knead the flesh there, his strong hands surprisingly gentle. Angharad rode Paolo slowly, feeling the tingling all over her body as his cock brushed up against the sensitive spots along her inner walls. “God, Annie,” Paolo panted, trying to thrust his hips up, get deeper inside of her. “I love it so much when you take control.” Angharad felt herself leaning into his caresses, losing her tenuous hold over the situation, lost in the sensation of Paolo inside of her and his hands all over her.

  And just like that, Paolo carefully pushed her onto her back, tumbling on top of her, kissing her deeply as he used his position as leverage to drive up into her pussy, angling himself expertly to brush against the most sensitive spot along her canal with every thrust. Angharad heard herself moaning uncontrollably as his fingertips found her clitoris, the speed of his thrusts pushing anything like thought far away. She reached up for his face and pulled him down for a deep kiss, wrapping arms and legs around him tightly as if holding on for dear life as her body rocked with orgasm. “Oh—Oh Paolo, oh yes, Paolo, Paolo, Paolo…” she heard herself saying, all of her muscles seemingly tensing and releasing and tensing again. She felt her inner walls squeezing around him erratically, trying to hold him prisoner. His cock
felt so good inside of her, twitching as he neared orgasm. They had stopped using condoms shortly after they had started dating seriously, when Angharad went on the pill. Even after months of feeling his uncovered dick, Angharad was still delighted at how hot he felt inside of her. She had not considered how different it would be to feel his cock without latex between them, that she would feel the softness of his skin in such detail.

  “Ah, Annie, you’re so good…” Paolo said in a hoarse whisper, driving his cock into her a few more times before orgasm overtook him. Angharad felt him twitching inside of her, felt the warmth of his cum, and held his body close, feeling the shuddering of release through his shoulders. Paolo collapsed on top of her, and Angharad smiled sleepily to herself, enjoying the spare weight of his body, the sweat-slick skin against her own.

  Chapter Eight

  Paolo looked down at Angharad’s sleeping form, giving himself the indulgence of a few moments of staring at her before her alarm went off. There was something so sweet in her face, something he wanted to nurture and protect, he thought. His fingers itched to take up a pen, pencil, charcoal, anything handy to draw the light on her face, the sweep of her dark eyelashes, the dreamy frown of her lips, the constellation of freckles on her cheeks and nose. Paolo’s sense of Angharad was a mingling of auditory and visual. His eyes appreciated the lush curves of her body, the uniqueness of her face, her small, skilled-looking hands, the nails always clipped short to be out of the way. His ear appreciated the rhythm of her pulse, the shifting tones of her voice, the way the cadence of her speech moved between the slight drawl of a Southern accent, and the brisk manner of city denizens.