by Desiree Holt, Lisabet Sarai, Lily Harlem, Elizabeth Coldwell, Wendi Zwaduk, Imari Jade
“Mmm, very nice,” Ricardo said, sitting at the end of the bed opposite Nari and surveying my extended body.
“Ricardo, like this,” Nari instructed, scooping my heel into the cup of his palm.
Ricardo followed suit, the cameras swung around and the music picked up tempo, sailing through high notes and crashing to a low, bass tone every few scales.
Both my legs were lifted as my two Italian co-stars began to kiss and lick the top of my feet and rub the arch with dexterous movements. Each touch hotwired exquisite sensations to my pussy. I closed my eyes, sighed and writhed. It felt good, so good, but nobody knew that. For all they knew, I was acting—performing for the camera the same way Nari and Ricardo were.
Their mouths explored higher, kissing and licking their way to my knees, my thighs, my hip bones. I became aware of their weight settling beside me on the bed, their hands exploring my body—stroking, smoothing over my flat belly and just skimming the underneath of my breasts through the bra.
“This is lovely,” Nancy cooed. I opened my eyes and spotted her standing at the end of the bed in her fuddy-duddy dress. “But now we want some real action, something suggestive of a full-on threesome. Time to lose the jeans, guys.”
There was a great deal of shifting on the bed as Nari and Ricardo shucked off their denims. Both wore tight black Armani boxers…and both had impressive packages outlined by the material.
“Can we go back a few minutes on the composition?” Ricardo asked as he settled back down next to me.
The music flicked around then started again at a slow, sedate, almost trance-like pace.
“Perfetto,” Nari said, wrapping me in his arms and scooping me on top of him. “Absolutely perfetto.”
I caught my breath as my chest pressed to his as did my thighs and my stomach… Whew, my stomach hit something long and dense and growing in hardness.
“You will have to forgive me,” he murmured softly. “It is not every day I have a practically naked supermodel on top of me. I pride myself in control, but I am, after all, still a mortal man.”
Flustered and turned on, both embarrassed and pleased by his reaction to me, I settled a little more comfortably against him, sliding my hands over his marble hard pecs and dropping my head into his neck.
“Yes, that is it,” Ricardo said nudging apart my legs and flattening his chest over my back. “But a little higher, mio angelo.” Wrapping his fingers around my hip bones, he urged me up Nari’s body.
I gasped as my mound came into contact with Nari’s swollen shaft. And through the soft material of his boxers and the silky gusset of my thong, the first section of my pussy lips parted—just enough for my swollen clit to press against concrete flesh.
Nari tensed. It was as though every muscle in his body froze. I lifted my head and looked down into his desire-heavy eyes. Lust raged in their depths, and his lips were fastened into a tight line.
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. What could I say? That I wanted everyone else in the room gone? Well, except for Ricardo, who had settled between my legs and was licking between my shoulder blades.
“Kiss me,” Nari said in a low, scraping voice. “Just kiss me, Tiffany.”
Pressing my lips to his, I muffled my moan of lust against his mouth. The concerto had picked up again, building to its high, excitable crescendo.
“Some movement would be good,” Nancy shouted over the piano music filling the room. “I’m not a photographer, I’m a film director. Listen to the music. You want it to be raunchy, sexy, the talk of the town—hell, the talk of the world—then grasp the beat, pull the music into your hearts and souls. Move, people. Make love, show the pleasure of three.”
Ricardo began to suggestively pump his hips against my butt. What had been only a semi-hard bulge against the cleft of my arse was rapidly turning to granite. My heart pounded, every nerve in my body honed in on the musical geniuses surrounding me, holding me, arousing me. I kept on kissing Nari. His breaths were hard and sharp, his facial hair rasped at my chin and his chest heaved against mine.
“Ahh, angel, you are driving me crazy,” Ricardo murmured by my ear. “Mother of Mary, give me strength.”
My clit was humming, the pressure building, an orgasm teasing me, tripping my heart and claiming my breath. Still Ricardo continued to rock against me, sliding me against Nari’s cock. His thrusting movements, breathy groans and sinful kisses were all designed to titillate viewers…and they were about to tip me over the edge.
I couldn’t come in front of a room full of people, in front of a rolling camera! Oh my God, I was going to!
“Nari,” I gasped, breaking our kiss.
“Take it,” he whispered, threading his fingers into the hair at my temples. “Take what you want.”
My clit was throbbing, bulging against his straining cock. My pulse raged through my ears. The point of no return was rapidly approaching. The music swirled me upwards, harnessing my desire, erasing reality. I bit down on my bottom lip and stared into Nari’s beautiful eyes, desperate to keep quiet and controlled even through the moment of no control that had just become inevitable.
Sucking in a breath, I teetered on the edge of bliss and balled my hands into fists on Nari’s pecs. Ricardo swirled his tongue into the shell of my ear.
I came.
Hard, fast, exquisitely.
“Ah, ah, ah,” I panted, vaguely aware of my eyes rolling before fluttering shut. My mouth hung slack, my heart knocking against my ribcage. Sliding my hands to the sheets, I grabbed them tight as my pussy convulsed around nothing and my clit bobbed against Nari’s shaft.
Oh shit! What had I done?
Chapter Two
“Will you come to lunch with us?” Ricardo asked as we walked down the stairs.
Nancy had told us it was a wrap five minutes after my climax, which I vehemently hoped that she hadn’t suspected was the real thing. And it was just as well we’d finished—Nari had looked to be in real physical pain as I’d continued to writhe on top of him, finishing the scene.
I glanced at Ricardo’s handsome face—at his smooth, golden skin stretched over high, perfect cheekbones and his wide, fleshy mouth. If he hadn’t had a career as a brilliant musician, he could have easily stepped into my world. He would be in great demand.
“Oh, I’m sorry, perhaps you are on some special diet,” he said, his brow creasing at my hesitation.
“No,” I said, waiting as Nari opened the front door. “No special diet, and yes, I would love to do lunch.”
“Great,” Nari said, slotting a hand against the small of my back and urging me outside. “We’re staying at The Savoy, and I hear the food there is very good.”
“Yes, it is.” Last time I’d been to The Savoy, Dale had been with me. It had been his birthday and we’d celebrated with a romantic candlelit dinner. I’d bought him a Rolex and a ticket to accompany me to Barcelona on work. It had been the most fun I’d ever had on an Estrella Archs shoot, not that we’d seen much of the sun-soaked city, since the Hotel Arts was very comfortable and suited our needs perfectly.
It was warm in London today and as I walked through the courtyard, the heavy, powdery scent of the flowers wafted up to my nostrils. The blooms’ colours seemed more vibrant than when I’d stepped into the house earlier—cotton candy pinks, azure blues and citrus orange. My senses were heightened, adrenaline and anticipation pumping through my veins, my body alive with a hunger that was for more than food.
A sleek white limousine with tinted privacy windows hummed outside the gates. A chauffer in a flat black cap held open the door for us to climb in.
I sat in the middle, my two exotic dates close on either side of me. My panties were damp against my pussy as I sat down, and I was relieved to be wearing my dark denim jeans that wouldn’t show a wet patch.
As the car pulled into the traffic, Nari took my hand and traced a circle with his long, elegant, almost ethereal fingers. Just that simple act had my nipples spiking again at the
thin material of my T-shirt, pushing and straining at the silk of my bra.
Ricardo settled a palm on my right thigh and delicately stroked down to my knee then up to my hip. His hands were every bit as beautiful as Nari’s, though the backs of his were hazed with just a little more dark hair. “You were so molto squisiti today,” he murmured.
“What does that mean?” I asked, feeling small and dainty between them.
“You were ‘very exquisite’, Tiffany,” Nari said, “perfect for Il Piacere de Tre. I think both the composition and the images will be a worldwide hit, though again our critics will be turning themselves in twists.”
“Which is just what we want.” Ricardo murmured, leaning towards my ear and letting his hot, breath wash down my neck. “How can we ever thank you enough?”
Inside I was shaking with desire but I willed myself to appear calm on the outside. “Well, it was my pleasure to help out,” I managed, swallowing tightly.
Nari smiled, his mouth stretching wide and small creases darting from his eyes to his temples. “I think it really was your pleasure, wasn’t it? In every sense of the word.”
Tugging at my bottom lip with my teeth, I studied his dark eyes. There was no denying it. He’d looked into my face as I came. He’d seen it, he’d felt it…and he knew exactly what had happened when Ricardo had rocked me against his hard shaft and built me up to a sweet, barely disguised climax.
Suddenly his smile fell. His brow furrowed into three neat creases and his voice dropped to a sexy low tenor. “We really do want to thank you properly, Tiffany, if you could tell us what we can do to repay your kindness.”
Oh my God! Heaven offered up on a golden plate.
But could I?
Did I dare?
Lust coiled like a snake in my belly. I wanted them both. I wanted us all naked in a room with no camera, no clothes, nothing—just us and our primitive desires and hours and hours to play and satisfy one another. I’d never had a threesome—Dale had always been more than enough—but the thought of this twin feast of manhood was so deliciously exciting I could barely breathe. And what was to stop me? I was a free agent. No boyfriend to think about. Not anymore…
“Tell us what you want?” Ricardo whispered, hooking my chin with the crook of his index finger and turning me to face him. “Sweet little angel, tell us what you need from us.”
I’m having another of my dirty dreams, surely I’ll wake up soon.
Nari turned my hand in his, stretched out my fingers and laid my palm over his crotch. His cock strained against the button fly of his jeans, long and thick and solid. “We know how we want to thank you, Tiffany,” he whispered as Ricardo pressed a kiss to my lips, “though it will mean joining us in bed.”
“Yes,” Ricardo murmured. “We want to make you fly high, soar like a bird, float on clouds, with pleasure the only emotion you can think of. The only part of your world that exists.”
My panties were soaking now and my pussy trembling. My nipples were actually starting to feel painful, they were so tightly twisted.
“Shall we skip lunch?” Nari asked, pressing my hand more firmly over his erection and shifting it gently over the fly. “How about we head for our suite and call for room service later?” His tongue traced the top, uppermost curve of my ear, then he went on in his sexy voice, “I have a feeling our appetites for fine cuisine are of a more primitive variety than silver service.”
Dreamily, I nodded. My clit was distended and engorged, hungering for attention. Nari was right—lunch would only get in the way of what we all really needed.
* * * *
The suite I stepped into was like time travelling to a home belonging to Edwardian gentry. Huge windows were dressed with cream and burgundy striped curtains and a decadent Murano chandelier dominated the centre of the room over a mahogany coffee table. A marble fireplace sat waiting to be lit and had a heavily patterned rug on the floor before it.
Nari walked to a drinks trolley and splashed amber liquid from a crystal decanter into two glasses.
“Tiffany?” He held the decanter my way.
“Champagne, if you have any.”
Ricardo pulled open a discreet mini bar and plucked out a bottle of Bollinger. “Is this all right?” he asked.
“Perfect.”
He popped the cork and white froth gushed out. Quickly, he reached for a flute and filled it with the beautiful fizzing liquid.
“Here,” he said, handing it to me with a smile.
I took it and drank deep then stepped up to the window and looked out over London. The heat of the afternoon had made the skyline a little hazy, but the majestic London Eye stood on the other side of the Thames, and in the distance The Houses of Parliament rose from the hustle and bustle of the streets.
“We adore spending time in London,” Nari said, coming close beside me and taking a sip of his drink. “Have you ever been to Rome?”
“Yes, plenty of times.” I turned from the view.
He bobbed his head as if in apology. “Of course you have, how foolish of me.”
“Next time you visit, call on us.” Ricardo said from where he was sitting on an over-stuffed sofa, tugging off his leather shoes.
“Thanks, I might.” I took another slug of champagne, hoping the alcohol would soon calm my nerves. The room was quiet…too quiet. I felt sure both men would be able to hear the thudding of my heart. Suddenly I had an idea. “Do you have your music available to listen to?”
Nari raised his brows. “You’ve been listening to it all day. Have you not had enough?”
I shrugged. “It’s very good.”
His mouth tilted into a wickedly sexy smile. “Well, in that case we have, but you must come this way.”
He stepped to a large, white panelled door. I followed, pausing only for a second to allow Ricardo to fill my empty champagne glass.
The bedroom that greeted me was magnificent. I had stayed in many fabulous hotels around the world, so it took a lot to impress me. Perhaps it was perfect because of what I had in mind for the afternoon, or maybe it was because finally, after hours of wishing, here was a bed.
And more importantly, here was privacy.
The walls were graced with delicate, moss-green silk paper dotted with silver fleurs-de-lis. Bespoke dressers and chairs, formal and plush, lined the walls and the bay of the window. The bed was huge, and the same jewel-coloured material that adorned the window lined the wall behind the headboard, giving the impression of richly draped curtains.
Ricardo walked into the bedroom and closed the door. I turned to him just as music filled the air from an iPod docking station—rich, seductive notes that flowed like fine wine, two pianos playing together seamlessly, as one.
“Are you familiar with our last CD?” Ricardo asked, knocking back his drink in one go then placing his glass on the dresser.
I shook my head, glugged on my twinkling flute and caught sight of myself in the mirror. My cheeks were flushed, my eyes wide and my nipples poked against my top, making it impossible to hide my desire for the two men about to thank me for my acting efforts.
Nari walked over, took my glass and set it aside. “After today, I think we can safely say you will be very familiar with these particular compositions we wrote.”
“And play,” Ricardo added, walking to the end of the bed and running his fingers over the brocade like it was a long keyboard. “Come to me, Tiffany. Feel this linen, it truly is delightful.” He sat at the base of the mattress.
I stepped towards him, out of habit crossing my sandals over one another to accentuate the roll of my hips as I walked. Though, today I felt as though I was floating.
As I reached Ricardo, I was aware of Nari pressing in close behind me. The rich, earthy scent of whisky hung in the air. I allowed Ricardo to draw me down beside him and watched as Nari slipped my shoes from my feet.
“We will need these off too, mio angelo.” Ricardo popped the top button on my jeans.
I lifted my hips and shifted
backwards on the bed to allow him to wriggle them and my panties down my legs. I knew how wet my panties were and felt embarrassed by the damp stain and wished we could turn down the lights and shut the curtains.
That was not going to happen.
Nari stood and removed his jeans, and I saw the straining erection beneath his tight boxers. He watched, fists clenched, as Ricardo tugged my jeans and panties from my ankles. I was not the only one hopelessly turned on.
Ricardo discarded my clothes to one side and peeled off his jeans and designer shirt. His broad chest, small coffee-brown nipples and the cock tenting his boxers were all hugely distracting to my train of thought.
“This too,” Nari said, touching the strap of my vest top.
After pulling it over my head, I dropped it on the floor with a flourish. Nari smiled. Ricardo climbed onto the bed behind me and reached for the back of my bra. He released the catch, freeing my small, high breasts, then slipped the straps down my arms.
“And now,” Nari said in a serious tone, running the back of his thumb over first my right nipple then the left. “Now, the fun really begins.” His black eyes were burning as he bent and suckled my nipple into his mouth. He rolled his tongue around it then gave it a sharp suck. Excitement curled in my veins and surged through my body. I reached for his shoulders but Ricardo wrapped his arms around my waist. With a simple, effortless twist, I was on my hands and knees, looking down at the neatly starched sheet folded back from the pillows.
I gasped and glanced back over my shoulder. Both men were kneeling by my rump. Nari shucked off his shirt and ran a hand through his short hair.
“Perfetto culo,” Ricardo said, smoothing his big hands over the globes of my butt. “The perfetto culo.”
I whimpered and dropped my head down. His touch was teasing and light, a delicate massage. I need so much more. The flesh of my pussy was aching—aching for a male touch. I had been so long with artificial cock that the need for real, hot, hard flesh was maddening.