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Healing the Wounds

Page 11

by M. Q. Barber


  She ground her hips against him for the spark of heat the contact woke in her. Leaned forward. Lowered her face to his. They brushed noses.

  Grazing his lips, she drew a low, needy whimper from him. She gave in to temptation and kissed him. Hard and commanding. The way Henry kissed him.

  Jay moaned. His hips jerked beneath her.

  She gentled the kiss despite the craving running through her body and pulsing between her legs. Pulled her head up enough to meet his eyes.

  “Fuck, Alice, I’m sorry.” His giddy energy drooped into a grimace. “I’m so sorry.”

  Sorry. Not happy. Not ecstatic that he’d gotten off. Not relaxed, not enjoying it. God, was she that fucking stupid?

  “Sweetheart, there’s nothing to be sorry for.” If she didn’t make it right, right now, Henry would have to step in and do it for her.

  “But I just—” He waved toward his shorts.

  “I know.” She beamed at him. Encouraging. “It was incredibly hot.”

  He blinked. “It was?”

  “I don’t know if you noticed, sweetheart, but playing with me got you worked up enough to come in your shorts. Which makes me feel pretty damn desirable and good about myself.” She stroked his forehead and pushed back his hair. Would that she could smooth his wrinkled brow as easily. “I wish it made you feel good about yourself, too, stud.”

  The tightness in his face, all scrunched eyes and turned-down lips, pierced her heart. Please, let her not have hurt him. First she’d let that jackass belittle him at the club, and now she’d made him feel inadequate. Fuck. She twisted to search for strength over her shoulder. “Am I wrong, Henry?”

  “No, sweet girl, you’re exactly right. You’re doing quite well on your own.” But he stepped closer and crouched beside them anyway.

  Would Jay feel rejected if she rolled off him? Maybe he’d be more comfortable without her weight on him. She sat, frozen, terrified of making the wrong move. Of somehow shaming him further.

  Henry covered her hand on Jay’s hair. “My brave boy, what were the restrictions I placed on your playtime with Alice?”

  “Living-room-rug boundaries. Only hit with pillows. Clothes stay on.” Kneading the rug, he rattled off answers at full speed.

  Henry hummed softly. “Well done. Where in those restrictions does it say you cannot climax?”

  Jay tipped his head back, pushing into their hands. He frowned. “It doesn’t.”

  “No, it doesn’t. You came home full of energy, and roughhousing with Alice was exciting, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, Henry.” He cast a bashful, darting glance at her chest.

  “And when she rolled on top of you, that was more exciting.”

  An emphatic yes rolled off Jay’s tongue.

  “You weren’t under any obligation to hold back, my boy.” Henry kissed her temple and then Jay’s mouth. “You played a fine game.”

  “But I—” Eyelids sinking, Jay turned his face aside. “Like a teenager.”

  Henry nudged her, the barest brush of his weight.

  She shifted off Jay to sit on the floor.

  “We’ll be a moment or two, Alice.” Henry urged Jay to his feet. “Come along, dear boy. It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before, hmm?”

  He rubbed Jay’s back as he pushed him down the hall. Bathroom, probably.

  “But not in front of Alice.” Jay’s whispered reply surely wasn’t meant to reach her ears. “I didn’t even give her…”

  She pulled her knees up and buried her face. She’d made him ashamed of himself and his stamina. A simple game, a fun night, and she’d turned it into a nightmare for Jay. Not intentionally, but still. Her fault.

  Something she’d found adorable. Charming. So sweetly uncontrolled. No matter what Jay thought, he hadn’t left her hanging. She hadn’t expected an orgasm. Disappointment was impossible without expectation.

  Christ, please let Henry talk sense into him. She climbed to her feet and put the living room back in order. Another bout of pillow fighting wasn’t likely tonight. Things had been so nonsexual last week, and the weekend had been a sexual explosion. No wonder if Jay’d been hornier than usual.

  Henry came back alone.

  An invisible vise gripped her rib cage, compressed her chest. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine. A tad embarrassed, but your handling of the situation helped immensely.” Lips curved in a slight smile, he studied her with eyes soft as a mossy-green bed. “Shh, dearest, it’s fine.” He swept her into his arms. “Just as Jay has done nothing wrong, so it is with you. He merely needed reassurance that everyone’s needs would be met.”

  His touch soothed her, and she buried her face against his chest, inhaling the warmth and sharpness of his scent.

  “Thank you for cleaning up, Alice. Shall we move the couch back together?”

  They each pushed an end and settled the gray behemoth into place with ease.

  “Henry?”

  “Yes, my dear?”

  “Why a pillow fight?” She wouldn’t press if he wanted to keep his reasons to himself, but her conclusion nagged at her. “Was it a test?”

  “Did you enjoy playing?”

  Until she’d made Jay upset, absolutely. She nodded.

  “You weren’t nervous or concerned?”

  “Should I have been? Did we fail?”

  He clasped her shoulders. “It’s not that sort of test, Alice. More an assessment of your comfort.”

  Her sexy artist had engineered an experiment to refine his approach based on their needs. God, if his head were a machine, she’d climb inside and study the operations for months. “With roughhousing?”

  “One might also name it light impact play. The current state of my dear ones’ behavioral responses in a nonthreatening situation, without restriction or expectation, is of some interest to me.”

  Impact play. A whisper of heat flickered across her back. “Like my suede.”

  He hummed. “Yes, like your flogger. Tell me, when did you begin to take ownership of it?”

  “I guess”—the second she’d imagined the handle in his grip—“after the first time?” Possessiveness had stolen over her. “The others were just toys, but the suede was mine.” She hadn’t thought to ask if personal attachment was allowed. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”

  “Much more than ‘okay,’ my dear.” He kissed her forehead. “It pleases me.”

  She searched herself for the eagerness that usually accompanied talk of her flogger. Emptiness echoed. Huddling close, she traced the buttons on his shirt. “I don’t think I’m ready to play with it right now.”

  “No, not yet. Neither you nor Jay.” He wrapped his arms around her back. “We’ll find our way there again. Not to worry. For now, it’s time for bed.”

  The clock mocked her with a broad smile proclaiming the time quarter past nine.

  “It’s too early, Henry. Schoolchildren have later bedtimes.”

  He caressed her ear with a heated breath. “Schoolchildren go to bed to sleep, Alice. And unless I’m doing something very wrong, you won’t be sleeping for quite a while yet.”

  * * * *

  Jay waited atop the covers on the far side of the bed, gaze trained on the doorway.

  Naked, of course. Sporting a sheepish grin.

  Henry closed his arms around her waist and rubbed his face against her neck. His breathing, deep and slow, as if he might inhale her soul through the pores of her skin, sent a frisson of desire coursing along her nerve endings.

  “You’ve had an emotional day, dearest. Surely you’ve a glut of thoughts swirling beneath your lovely locks.” He kissed her neck with soft lips, gentle and fluttering.

  She swayed in his embrace.

  “Jay and I agree you deserve our exclusive attention. For medicinal purposes, you understand.”

  His teasing tone warmed her insides. “You’re prescribing a cure for thoughts?”

  He hummed, a quiet negative. “There’s no cure, I’m afraid.” He nudg
ed her forward with his hips, cock prodding at her back, and edged his fingers under her shirt. “Merely a continuing treatment regimen.”

  She raised her arms.

  He tossed her shirt aside and trailed kisses across her shoulder blades. Kneaded her neck with heavy, steady hands.

  “Continuing?” She dropped her head.

  He pushed her bra straps from her shoulders with his thumbs.

  “Is this a weekly regimen? Monthly? Annually? Is it applied topically? Orally? Injected?”

  Jay snickered from the bed, and she flashed him a smirk.

  Henry growled as he unhooked her bra. “I’m often tempted to make it an hourly injection, my impertinent little minx.”

  Empty contractions focused her thoughts low between her hips, a heated rush. Hourly. A slave to his pleasure and her own. Surprisingly appealing. Tied to Henry’s bed day and night. Hands and mouths and Henry’s thick cock to keep her satisfied. Fuck yes. She moaned.

  Henry tugged at her pants, lowering them with her underwear, a teasing slide down her ass. “It seems someone approves of such treatment.”

  Jay watched like a cat eager to pounce on a rolling ball of yarn, his hypnotized eyes following the skin bared by her falling pants. Mmm. He had the right idea. She found Henry’s slow-moving hands equally fascinating.

  “What’s not to like?” She squirmed as Henry tickled her calves.

  He lifted her feet clear with delicate precision. What he might see as fragile statuary, limbs extended, at greater risk for breakage. What she might call parts machined within strict tolerances.

  “Lounging in your bed all day so I won’t miss a treatment? Sounds like a regimen I could get behind.”

  Henry’s delighted chuckle set electrons spinning in her body, creating magnetic fields eager to pull him in.

  “It’s certainly one I’m inclined to get behind.” He rose to his feet and pressed himself to her. Clothed. Smooth shirt, rougher slacks, all rubbing and rustling against her bare skin.

  God, she loved him like that.

  Jay rolled his face into a pillow and laughed.

  Henry turned her in his arms and kissed her. Her giggles morphed into a sighing moan as he cradled the back of her head with one hand and cupped her ass with the other. She pressed forward, nipples rising against his shirt from the friction.

  He grasped her hands and lifted them to his throat. “Will you undo these pesky buttons? I find my hands have more important places to be.”

  Those more important places proved highly distracting as she unbuttoned his shirt. He traced the slope of her ribs, fingers splayed. Held the weight of her breasts in the curves of his thumbs and index fingers. Cupped her iliac crest in a squeeze that rocked her groin against his.

  She kneaded his chest. Firm flesh, but not hard. Not entirely unyielding. Surrendering just enough to make a place for her.

  “Still thinking, dearest?” He spoke in a low undertone, intimate and warm.

  “Silly thoughts.” She pushed his shirt over his shoulders and down his arms. “Happy thoughts. Belonging thoughts.”

  “My favorite kind.” He draped a soft kiss across her lips.

  He took a step forward, and another, and she stepped backward in kind. A dance, ending with bedsheets brushing the back of her legs.

  “We’ll deliver your treatment on the bed tonight.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “A horizontal delivery method is preferred, as aftereffects may include trembling legs and difficulty standing. Safety first, my dear.”

  She lowered her chin and looked up, as demure a posture as she could manage, trapped between his body and the bed. “Yes, Doctor. Whatever you think best.”

  Eyes gleaming, he sucked in a breath and nodded once. “Very well. My physician’s assistant will participate in your care today.” He lifted her onto the bed with ease. “Please make yourself comfortable while I finish disrobing.”

  “Nudity’s an important part of my treatment, Doctor?” She pushed herself back onto the bed and came up short against Jay.

  “Absolutely crucial. Almost impossible to complete without it. You aren’t shy, are you? Not such a lovely girl as you.”

  She shook her head, rolling across Jay’s shoulder. “Not even close to shy, Doctor.” Tipping back, she gave Jay a teasing smile. “So you’re a doctor, too?”

  “If he says so, then I guess I’m Dr. Jay.” His eyes widened. He laughed. “Don’t worry, miss. This treatment will be a slam dunk for sure. But I’m not really known for my assists.”

  Jay-babble. Incomprehensible Jay-babble. She pecked his cheek and faced front. Henry had his hands on his belt. No way would she miss the show.

  Jay wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek, snuggling his face beside hers, the two of them intent on Henry’s every motion.

  “I’m sorry our pillow fight ended so early, Alice,” Jay whispered. His lips tickled her ear.

  Henry’s belt slid free of its loops. He hung it over the chair, turning his back to them, slacks tightening across his ass. Her eyes tracked him, her body focused on the pleasure his approaching nudity promised and her mind diverted by the tremor in Jay’s voice.

  “It’s all right, sweetheart.” Her lips barely moved as she matched his low, earnest tone. Covering his arms with her own, she rubbed her palms over his knuckles. “I had fun while it lasted. Totally kicking your ass, by the way.”

  “I was gonna make a comeback.” He laced their fingers together and drew rolling waves across her stomach.

  She refrained from making a joke about coming, though it was a near thing. Her athletic comedian sheltered a deep, sensitive center. “Next time, if I don’t kick your ass again.”

  Zipper dropping. A captivating tease. Henry’s pants fell, and he stepped elegantly to the side. He bent and picked them up.

  She leaned forward and Jay followed, their sighs mingling. Just boxers left.

  “You think there’ll be a next time?”

  “Yup.” Boxers hitting the floor distracted her. Or, rather, the firm ass revealed above them. Not that Jay’s ass was any less firm. But what her brain called adorable on him became powerful on Henry. Powerful muscles. Powerful thrusts. A powerful attraction that pressed her thighs together and let wetness seep between them.

  “I bet if we ask nicely, Henry will let us play with pillows again some other night.” They wouldn’t even have to ask nicely, if he was rebuilding their comfort through this light impact play. He’d have more roughhousing planned. But not tonight.

  Henry faced them, fully nude and partially erect.

  Desirable. Mesmerizing. Yummy. “We could have a postgame injury clinic. Like the, uh, pros do.”

  “The pro pillow fighters?” Jay teased with no trace of anxiety, but his breathing quickened.

  “Uh-huh.” Had she been saying something? Had Jay? Her heart thumped triple time. Eager. Wanting. “A nice soak. Postgame rubdown.”

  Henry knelt on the foot of the bed. He planted his hands. Stalked them, crowding their legs, kneeling over them on all fours, working his way up the bed as they fell back beneath his advance.

  “You neglected to mention the thorough physical exam, sweet girl.” He delivered a kiss for her hip and one for Jay’s.

  She shivered. He whimpered.

  Henry smiled at them both. “We’ll begin with the neck. We can’t be too careful.”

  He lay on her left side, his cock a pleasant pressure at her hip, his leg a weight atop hers. He nuzzled her neck. “All right, dearest?”

  “Heavenly.”

  Jay shifted beside her, rolling up on his side to mimic Henry. They feasted together, an unending succession of licking and kissing and sucking as they traced the lines of her throat. The curve of her jaw. The edge of her ears.

  Her sighs and moans produced a chorus of echoing whines from Jay. Encouraging rumbles, almost a purring hum, from Henry. Soothing. Arousing.

  An odd sensation, to be so relaxed and so excited in the same moment. Awar
e of more, wanting more, but comfortable precisely where she was. In Henry’s bed. With Henry and Jay lavishing attention on her. Content to let events unfold at Henry’s pace.

  “Oh, dear.” Henry exuded teasing faux concern. “Your pulse is simply racing. It might denote a medical difficulty. Is this a frequent occurrence?”

  She inhaled the mingled scents of leather and citrus and forest. Her boys. “It happens whenever I see you, Doctor.”

  He kissed her temple. “Jay, this bears further investigation. My medical expertise tells me our patient’s heart is located in her chest. Search around and see if you might find it, please. Be thorough.”

  Jay lifted her right arm, draping it around his back, and nestled closer. She gripped his shoulder as he followed Henry’s instructions to the letter. Searching. Hand roaming over her chest. Skimming the tops of her breasts. Breath ghosting over her nipples.

  Henry touched his lips to hers. She tilted her face, and he captured her mouth with a deeper kiss. Delivered a series of them. Long, and languid, and arousing something in her beyond desire. A need centered not only between her legs but also between her ears. Between her ribs. Between her everything.

  “Henry,” she whispered into the gap he gave her to catch her breath. “I don’t want to play right now. I just want you. I want—I need—to feel you inside me. Please.”

  He called softly to Jay, urging him to bring him a condom from the nightstand, but he kept his body pressed along hers. Used one hand to roll the latex over his cock, raising his hips only enough to make it possible. The head rubbed across her clit as he positioned himself, and she cried out, a low, needy whine.

  Too much and not enough, all at once, the stimulation a jolt along sensitive nerves. His cock parted her lips, wet and welcoming his arrival. He thrust slow. Settled fully on top of her, his weight pressing her down, and she clutched at his neck and shoulders, her body shuddering beneath him with the first tendrils of relief.

  She raised her legs and clung to his hips. Wouldn’t allow him to pull back, to leave her body. He rocked them, slow and steady, his scent in her nose and his breath at her ear.

 

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