by Jayne Rylon
The crinkle of a foil packet had Jambrea’s eyes scrunching closed beneath the blindfold. Oh, thank God. She would be full of him and his heat. Soon. Matt ran his hand down to her pussy and spread her saturated folds for his friend.
Then, finally, the unmistakable weight of a real human cock—no vibrator for her tonight—nudged her, notching in the vestibule of her pussy. Clint paused, as if giving her one last chance to object, like that would happen, then rocked his hips forward and embedded himself a few inches in her pussy.
His soft grunt made her feel better about the abject pleasure bombarding her. At least she knew he wasn’t unaffected by their shared experience. The subtle sound had her spreading wider, arching her back and relaxing to welcome him into her body.
The giant cradling her hugged her, more with fondness than the urgent squeezes he’d been imparting until then. He must have been able to tell she was trying to admit his friend, though she feared they might also have snuck into her affections after their careful, yet ardent, handling.
Damn her soft heart.
Matt cupped her breasts, then tugged lightly at the chain connecting the clamps on her nipples. She hissed and shifted. The new position allowed Clint to fuse more tightly with her. They became one as he slid home, then out a bit before driving deeper within her. Each motion jiggled the beads in her ass and added another dimension to his invasion.
When he’d drilled as far as he could reach, they both sighed.
She swiped a thumb over the tip of Matt’s cock, surprised to find a large pool of precome cupped in the slit at the top. For a moment, she wished she could taste him. But abandoning the claiming that had just begun held no appeal. Instead she reveled in the advance and retreat of Clint’s sizable hard-on. He stretched her, boring deeper on every stroke of his cock within her.
She moaned, loving the way the blindfold really had made her super aware of every tiny sensation. The rub of his cock within her nudged the beads still lodged in her ass. The combination of sensual delights nearly drove her insane. Uncaring about how it made her look, she surrendered completely to the mastery of the pair of men claiming her.
She cried out with abandon, embracing the sexual freedom they’d granted her.
Powerful and liberated, she squeezed Clint tight. The head of his cock slammed into the locked muscles at the opening of her pussy before coaxing her to accommodate his length. It didn’t take long before she trembled in their grasp, clinging to the razor’s edge of passion for as long as she could before one deep, grinding pass mixed with the possession of his lips on hers. The blend of sensory inputs drove her straight into another soul-rending orgasm.
The jerky thrusts of his hips made her sure he joined her. The thought of his come filling the condom he’d donned put her through another round of wringing spasms.
Before she could even stop shuddering, Clint had withdrawn. She whimpered as her body mourned the loss of him. Matt didn’t seem to mind the trickle of moisture steadily glazing his balls while she rode out the storm of her passion. He caressed her, adding both arousal and gentle reassurance to the other stimuli bombarding her. The beads in her ass felt divine, shifting inside her as she clenched.
As she continued to tremble, Clint removed the clamps from her breasts.
He soothed the intense sensation, caused by blood returning in a rush, with light kisses and laps of his tongue before taking hold of her hips. For a moment, she wondered if he were some superdude, planning to fuck her again, rocking her into Matt’s solid chest as he ravaged her, until she realized the guys were working together to rotate her. So she gave them as much help as her jellied limbs would allow.
And soon she found herself draped over Matt’s enormous body, hugging him to her, nuzzling her face in his sweat-slicked pectorals while Clint continued to assist behind her. This time, the other man must have taken over her job, stroking Matt’s ever-growing cock.
At least that was what she thought until she heard the crinkle of another wrapper. Not just any touches there. He must be sheathing his friend. Even the thought of the two men being so intimate, finally admitting a tiny bit of their attraction, had aftershocks running through her body.
She got to her knees on the bed and planted her hands on Matt’s knotted shoulders. This time she kissed him. Well, at first she nibbled on his chin, then his cheek before she landed on his mouth. When she did find her target, she unleashed a flurry of pent up lust on the mystery man beneath her.
Lips collided and their teeth clicked once before they established their place, their rhythm, and their ideal approach. A frenzy of sexual energy electrified her, giving her permission to ravage him even as he settled his cock at the entrance to her body. She shifted, lowering her hips instinctively to accept him into her still-pulsing channel.
Saturated, she eased his entry, though his girth imprinted her with simultaneous burn and satisfaction. From behind, Clint embraced her, guiding her while helping to facilitate the joining of his lover and the man he shared her with.
Dear God, could they be any more sexy?
A flash of Lily’s story cut through even the haze of arousal they’d billowed around her. She imagined Matt and Clint kissing as she had at least a million times since her chat with the Mistress. The idea of the partners’ mouths on each other, soliciting rapture even while fulfilling their best friend’s longing, had her thermonuclear in a second.
She slid another few inches down Matt’s impressive length, uncaring about the way he stretched her to capacity. If only she could have both of her cops here with her, like this. She swore she’d make it good for the guys who allowed her to dream while thrilling her body.
Over and over.
Feral now, she kneaded the pecs of the enormous man beneath her, a little sorry—though not much—that her fingernails must have been leaving dozens of crescent marks on what felt like flawless skin interrupted only by a light dusting of hair.
Clint’s hands encircled her waist, helping her grind downward. When her spine arched and she stiffened, he held her still, not allowing her to progress until her body had adjusted further to the mammoth intrusion. Then he let her have a bit more. And a bit more. Until, finally, she had all of his cohort. She and Matt didn’t fuck hard or fast like she had with Clint.
Instead, they ground together in a sinful figure eight that did unbelievable things to her pussy, and her soul. Relief poured through her when she realized that she could still revel in bliss and physical relief even when her penchant for attraction at first sight had been avoided.
Lust, pure and simple.
She was capable of it. She could make do with it. She could soar because of it.
No more lonely nights—or years of them—for her.
That promise alone had her contracting on the man entrenched in her pussy. He grunted when she began to rock with the help of Clint behind her. It didn’t take long before she could feel extra definition impressing the ridges of Matt’s cock on her engorged tissue. Even better, her clit rubbed his body, proving again that they fit perfectly together.
Jambrea dropped her hands backward to his powerful thighs, loving the way twenty fingers now careened over her from her stomach to her breasts to her shoulders. She fucked him with a primal energy she hadn’t known she possessed. Clint assisted her wild ride and kept her from going too far, dislodging Matt. Because by then all three of them were quite clear that letting him vacate her pussy wasn’t on her agenda anytime soon.
All the while, his fat cock teased the beads in her ass. They rolled and shifted as he prodded them and her abdomen undulated with the ripples of her contracting muscles.
Before long, Matt tensed beneath her, nearly quivering with the energy they generated simultaneously. Could he feel the straining of her body and the toy inside her, separated from him by only a thin layer of tissue? She bet he could. He trembled. The tendons in his neck stood out sharply beneath her roving fingers as he must have thrown back his head in an attempt for restraint. And she
was right there with him. She shouted, “I’m going to come.”
And then she did.
Her pussy wrung the giant cock filling her, squeezing it with concentric constrictions that ran along the tunnel of her pussy. Right when she thought she couldn’t feel any more, Clint began to withdraw the beads from her ass. She screamed as she clenched around each and every one. Her eyes rolled back behind her blindfold. She milked Matt, causing him to fall with her into the most powerful climax of her life.
He joined her, slamming upward even as she bore down. His cock flared inside her then pulsed as he flooded the condom he wore.
The enormous guy groaned and shuddered between her legs. As they spasmed together, he cried, “Jambi.”
Her orgasm redoubled. It burned like an out of control wildfire that nothing could douse. The man behind them—Clint Griggs—held her tighter, his arms squeezing her at the sound of Matt Ludwig calling out her name in ecstasy.
She might have manufactured some of the other clues, but not that one.
His voice, his smell, his one-of-a-kind body. There was no mistake.
No more lying to herself.
She knew these men.
And now they knew her too.
Chapter Six
“Matt!” Jambrea answered his cry of completion even as part of her died inside. She should have known a connection like this was impossible between people she’d never truly met. Her body continued to come while her mind spun at his inadvertent disclosure of their identities. And soon, questions took over. Why had they tricked her?
How dumb had Jambrea been to assume the Mistress’s office was as confidential as a confessional? Lily had betrayed her trust.
“Uh oh.” Slightly clearer-minded now that his afterglow must have faded, Clint’s entire body went stiff behind her. Well, most of him anyway. That fucker.
Even as the majority of her continued to be disloyal, thoroughly enjoying the ruse they’d concocted, Jambrea began to thrash. She disengaged herself from Clint’s embrace, causing Matt’s cock to slip from her still-clenching pussy, and ripped the blindfold off in enough time to sear the last moments of his orgasm in her mind. His expression, unforgettable.
Why had he withheld that from her?
“You bastards!” she shouted as she rolled off the bed and snatched her robe from the side chair. “What the hell did you mean by this? Did you think it was funny to fuck me? Would you have laughed behind my back every time we were together with the rest of the Men in Blue?”
Clint opened his mouth, but no excuses came out. Matt braced himself on one arm, still emptying himself into the condom he wore, which bulged with his seed.
They reached for her. She stumbled backwards.
“You know what? I don’t want to hear it anyway. Blue!” Jambrea didn’t care if it was cowardly. She ran, while she still could. Before they concocted some justification that would have her falling back into bed with two men who couldn’t be straight with her.
Jambrea tore along the hall, swinging a right at the enchanted pools where the mermaid population seemed to have boomed. Squirming between the crowd watching the erotic-aqua-ballet, she didn’t give a shit if her robe hadn’t quite closed properly. The edges flapped in the breeze as she bolted for the front doors. Common sense began to kick in gradually.
How would she even get home? Lily had picked her up this evening and escorted her personally to the Playground, knowing damn well she’d have chickened out otherwise. How could the woman who was supposed to be one of her closest damn friends have done this to her?
Sure, she specialized in mind games, but this time they’d all gone too far.
Jambrea slowed, bending so she could rest her palms on her knees and attempt to suck in a few breaths. Her traitorous body still hummed in the aftermath of the pleasure her dream guys had given her before they reminded her that their relationship actually had more in common with a nightmare.
“Hang on a second. I see her.” A familiar male voice filled her with dread. Of course she’d be easy to track in the camera-covered club. She couldn’t outrun the speed of light. Jeremy called out to her, “Jambi, is that you? Are you—”
Shit! Another one of those damn sexy Men in Blue. Exactly who she didn’t want to see right then. She refused to show him how weak they’d made her. The tears she barely held at bay threatened to spill over. Even after all Matt, Clint and she had shared, it hadn’t been enough.
Sex alone would never tick all her boxes. She knew that for sure now.
“Leave me alone.” Childish or not, she yelled as she dashed toward a staircase. Up had to lead out, eventually. “I’m getting the hell out of here.”
“Let me drop you off. I swear I won’t say a single word.” His plea faded as she put some distance between them.
And not an instant too soon.
“Which way did she go, JRad?” Matt bellowed as he closed in. He must have gotten dressed in record time. “Answer me! I’m not fucking around.”
Fortunately, Jeremy didn’t take orders well. She didn’t wait to see if his Dom side or geek side won out. Instead she shoved through the fire door at the top of the landing marked Emergency Exit.
Stones sprinkled across the blacktopped alley jabbed her feet. The minor pain of the pebbles gouging her arches had nothing on the all-too-familiar gash in her heart. This was why she didn’t mess around. Never again. It hurt too much to think she might finally have what she needed only to have it ripped away endlessly—each time with greater awe then more painful rejection. The party wasn’t worth the hangover.
Too close behind her, only a few seconds delayed, the steel door slammed into the brick building as first one then the other of her never-would-be lovers were ejected from Gunther’s Playground. For a brief moment it had been her amusement park too. Jambiland, she thought with a wry twist of her lips. Short-lived, the sarcastic smile turned into a grimace when her heel clomped onto a particularly sharp piece of rubble. She yelped and hopped on one foot.
Her rapid deceleration probably saved her life.
Because a split second later, the sparks from something hitting the wall beside her were followed by a blaze across her upper arm. This kind of heat had nothing in common with the decadent variety she’d experienced at the talented hands of her asshole fuck buddies.
“What the—?” She slapped her right hand over her left biceps, noting the stickiness she was all too familiar with from her time at the hospital. And as a medic.
Blood.
Before she could even complete her thought, she found herself sprawling on the ground. A heavy weight landed on top of her, knocking the wind from her lungs. “Stay down. Who the hell is firing shots?”
Clint’s arms wrapped around her head, muffling his shouts even as he protected her with his own vulnerable body. Two other people ran past, jumping over their prone forms. Gooey liquid oozed between her fingers, making her wish she could grab the belt hanging, limp, through the loops at the waist of her robe.
Next thing she knew, she was being dragged behind a dumpster. Add abrasions to the list of damage tonight had done to her. Ignoring the revolting smell and the sludge beneath her knees, she curled as tight as possible into the man shielding her. He whispered into her hair, “I’ve got you, Jambi. Stay quiet. Still.”
So she did. Her ancient training kicked in, yes. But also, she trusted him. In this he was an expert. Proficient and cool, he gripped his gun and aimed at the only remaining angle of approach.
A minute passed, maybe two, and her immediate fight or flight response began to wane. Adrenaline gave way to logic. She counted her heartbeats, judging her pulse to be remarkably normal. Forcing herself to calm even more, she slowed the rivulet of blood pouring from her. Sooner rather than later, she’d need to elevate the limb. Until then, she tilted toward her right side, getting her left above her heart.
Clint drew a huge, shuddering breath that caused his firearm to waver.
Horrible thoughts snuck into her mind. She
tried to put a gap between them so she could scan him for injuries, but he held her too tightly for that.
“Are you hit too?” She asked what she couldn’t verify herself. Despite the unfortunate end to the evening, she still cared for him. Even if he hadn’t shown her what it was like to fly again—so much higher this time—she’d never leave any human being to suffer. The nurse in her wouldn’t permit it.
“No. I’m good.” His heart raced against her cheek as he surveyed the area, his gaze sweeping from side to side as loud boot-steps pounded the pavement, approaching. Neither one of them had to be told who they belonged to. Clint would know his partner anywhere, she bet. “Wait, what? Hit too? As in also? Matt! What’s up?”
“They poofed. Two dudes in black dropped off the roof of the building next door and piled into a dark SUV. Either green or blue. Couldn’t get details in the shadows. JRad is checking surveillance. Doesn’t look like an accident. Let’s move. Inside. Somewhere safe.” The hulking man cast a shadow as he stepped between the spotlight in the alley and their den. He crouched down, making as small a target as possible despite the lessening chance of violence.
“No, I meant you. You okay?” The concern lacing Clint’s question made Jambrea snuggle against him despite her best intentions. “JRad too?”
“Fine. Both of us.” Matt scrubbed his hand over his chin as he tucked his gun in his waistband at the small of his back. “Other than shitting our pants. What the fuck was that all about?”
“I don’t know, but thank God. Jambi thought you’d been tagged.” Clint sagged. His arms trembled briefly around her as if he shivered. On cue, her own quaking began. Her teeth chattered as she crashed from all the excitement that had coursed through her.
It wasn’t enough to obliterate her pain anymore.
She hated the whimper that escaped when she adjusted her grip on her upper arm.
“Not him,” she managed through gritted teeth. “Me.”
“Holy shit!” Clint tucked his gun in his waistband and bolted to his feet, dragging her into his arms. “Where? Why didn’t you say something? Are you nuts? You know, sometimes there’s such a thing as too tough for your own good.”