He was still growling as it passed, his breath hot and heaving at her ear, and she realized he’d had his teeth there, securing her at her shoulder. The full weight of his upper body had fallen onto her, making her fight for each desperate breath.
“Shit,” he finally said, realizing it. “Sorry, baby. Sorry.” He pushed himself over to the side, mostly off her but not, she noted, out of her. After several more long moments, more rough breaths, he finally lifted up. He pulled out of her and might have done something with the condom like drop it on the floor. Then he wrapped one strong arm around her and took her up onto the bed, coming with her to lie alongside. He held her close, leaning over her, and kissed her briefly.
“That wasn’t what I meant,” he told her, tucking all around her like a heated blanket. “In a minute,” he promised. “In a minute I’ll show you what I meant.”
Indy kissed his neck and slid an arm around him. “I have no complaints.”
“No?” he said, his lips pressed into the top of her head. “That’s good. But still, I’m going to show you.”
Maybe he was, Indy thought. But apparently he was going to sleep first. Smiling against his hot, smooth skin, she fell into sleep with him.
And, later, woke to his kisses.
He touched his lips to her eyelids, then her cheeks, her lips.
“This is what I meant,” he said. “I meant to show you how much I adore you. I meant to worship you.”
She opened her sleepy eyes to him and found him gazing at her. He slid his fingers along her nape and held her as he kissed her, gently, sweetly. “Indy,” he said.
This time, he did what he told her he’d meant. He kissed her everywhere, stroked her, and aroused her. He found every vulnerable, erotic bit of her and used his hands and mouth to beguile, to seduce. His big fingers enticed, at once gentle and rough, entirely stimulating. He cupped her breasts and ran his palms over her peaked nipples. He pinched and strummed until she moaned in need again.
Giving her a pleased smile, he slid one hand down her belly to that place she needed him most, and then he teased. He rubbed over her mons with enough tension to cause just a little stir to her clit. He drew her one thigh open and stroked with his fingers, so near but not…not quite there.
He was on his left elbow, his fingers plucking at her nipple. His right hand drew her leg farther open, bringing her thigh against him so she would know that his erection, his desire for her, was back. His face pressed into her belly, moving lower, closer…
Indy moaned again, and she could feel his smile now against her hot skin.
He diddled her nipple as he spoke. “Do you need something, sweetheart?”
Moving impatiently, she moaned again. “Sig.”
“You know what I want, baby? What I’m going to do?”
“Sig,” she said again, plaintively. She wanted to tell him to stop talking and just do it.
“I’m going to put my tongue on your clit,” he told her, ignoring her plea. “I’m going to suck it into my mouth. And I’m going to do things to you with my fingers.”
“Yes, Sig, please.”
“Are you begging me for it, baby?”
He was at her mons again, stroking in that way that almost gave her what she needed. “Yes, Sig. Please.”
“I like that,” he told her.
And she knew he was close because she could feel the breath of it on her clit. She moaned again, arching up for it, but he held her back, sliding his thigh over hers to secure her.
It would happen when he was ready for it.
Luckily, apparently, he was. When she moaned again, he was there, his tongue hot and wet on her, sliding over, stroking. Then his lips, drawing on her, taking her into his mouth just like he’d said he’d do. His tongue again, and the suction…
“Oh.”
There was more, though. There were those things he’d said he would do with his fingers.
But he didn’t give it all to her, not all at once. He lifted up, back on that elbow, and looked down at her. Watching her, somehow making her know he required her gaze on his, he put his right hand between her legs. He stroked up and down, deeply enough that he found the moisture at her pussy. He did it again, harder.
“I can smell you,” he told her, like she wasn’t aware of it. “I can tell how you want me. How you need it.”
He put one finger—she was sure it was his middle finger, the longest one, the best to fuck her with—at her opening. Then he pushed in.
“Ahh.” Indy ratcheted out a long breath, struggling against the way he contained her to flex, to accept more of him.
He went all the way in, enough that the knuckles of his other fingers stretched at her. Deep inside her, his finger circled, exploring, taking. Reflexively, her back arched, her body seeking more.
“Rest back,” he told her. “Open your other leg.”
Like his puppet, she did what he told her to do, splaying herself out, offering total vulnerability to him.
“Good girl.”
Still watching her, he drew his finger out, not seeming to care that she moaned at its loss. But then, his eyes intent on her, he moved that finger back. Wet with her arousal, it pressed at her anus.
“Sig!”
“Ja, sweetheart. Take it.”
“Oh, God!”
He entered her, slowly. Just pressure at first, until he made his way into her sphincter. Then he circled there, reaming her. Farther, then, when he was satisfied she’d accepted him, into her, deep, in and out. Fucking her. Finger-fucking her ass.
Indy moaned his name again, nearly screeching it as he pressed a second finger, this one dry and chafing, into her. She shuddered, not objecting as she thought she should, but finding pleasure in it, in the earthy, edgy crudeness of it.
He scissored his fingers, stretching her, and stroked in and out. Then he turned his hand enough to push his thumb deep into her cunt.
She cried out, her body jittering. “Sig!”
His blue eyes blazed in male satisfaction. He pinched hard at her nipple and, finally, let go of her gaze to take her clit into his mouth again. He drew hard on her, sucking and tonguing her, as he used the fingers of both hands to torture her.
She didn’t last long after that. Lost to it, she panted and bucked, opening her legs farther, submitting like a bitch in heat, letting him do anything he wanted, all that he wanted. She was crazed when she came, howling with it, wracked, ruined. He pushed her, making it last through several breaths, working his hand into her until pleasure was nearly pain. She convulsed, her body entirely beyond her control, almost to unconsciousness.
Barely aware, she didn’t resist when it was over, when he turned her to her side, angled on the bed, and crept up. She did nothing but compliantly open up when he put his cock at her lips—nothing but let it happen when he put his hand on her head and gently fucked her mouth until he came.
* * * *
Fuck.
That wasn’t it either, Sig realized, as he rudely spurted down her throat, not in the least asking permission.
That hadn’t been what he’d meant, not at all.
Somehow, she’d thrown him off. He’d gotten just a little taste of her, just the tease, say, of lowering the zipper of her skirt and getting a peek at her ass, and then there was nothing for it but to fuck the hell out of her. Or putting a finger in her hot, wet cunt and knowing he needed to ass-fuck her and just barely holding himself to using his fingers.
And then shoving into her mouth without so much as a by-your-leave, when she was all but unconscious.
“Indiana!” He put his hands in her hair, turning her up to face him as he scooted down the bed again.
Her eyes fluttered closed again a couple times before she managed to focus on him.
“What?”
“I didn’t mean that, either!”
“What?” she said again. She seemed to want to snuggle into him, for which he was totally grateful, but—
“Remember? I said I wanted to wors
hip you.”
She had her eyes really open now, like she realized she should pay attention. “And you did what instead? Worship…us?”
“I came in your mouth. I didn’t even ask. That’s not…”
She frowned a little, and he got the idea she’d rather he left her to sleep off what had just happened between them. But she lifted her head, looked around, and pulled a pillow down. She waited until he got the message and lifted his head, too, so they could both settle down on it, face-to-face.
“That’s not…usual for you?”
He shook his head. “Nah. Uhn-uh.”
A little smile teased at her lips. And in her eyes, too, he was sure of it. “What happens when you touch me? It’s not usual for me either.”
Shit. Fuck. Shit.
Sigge was in love. And he’d just told his best friends he’d be willing to share.
He was in fucking hell.
“We have to talk. You should put your clothes on, Indy.”
Chapter Eight
Without warning, Sigge suddenly looked as serious as a heart attack. Indy backed away from him, the fun they were having gone in a flash.
“You want to break up with me,” she said, confused and even slightly irate.
“No!” He frowned and took another breath. “That’s the last thing I want, believe me. But we have to talk.”
Abruptly, getting dressed seemed like good advice. She backed off the bed, not quite willing to turn her back on him, gathered up her clothing, and inched her way into his private bath. Once she was there, she took her time, washing up and rinsing the taste of him from her mouth.
He seemed to think she should be offended at that bit—that he’d come inside her mouth without asking about it, that he’d lost track of his intentions in the lusty storm of their lovemaking.
She wasn’t offended or distressed in the least. She was a little prideful, in fact, that she seemed able to make a man with his power and determination go off track, that he lost his head in the wild thrill of it. She hadn’t even thought to hold back, to resist when he wanted her to submit, when he held her so he could do what he wanted to her, when he pushed into her mouth.
At least, she hadn’t thought of it until this moment, when she looked at herself in his mirror, when she saw the bruises left by his fingers and lips and teeth. When she saw how much she looked…ravaged, and remembered that they “had to talk.”
She looked around at the lavish bathroom—the lush towels on a warming rack, the multi-spray shower, the luxurious hot tub—and wondered how long she’d have to stay in there for him to give up on her. Since it was his room, he’d no doubt be pounding at the door instead of accommodating her by politely slinking away.
Knowing no alternative, she bucked up, dressed, lifted her chin, and opened the door.
Sigge had dressed, too, in soft, worn jeans and a cotton sweater in a blue that matched his—their—eyes. He’d straightened the room, pulling the covers up over the bed and tucking his dress clothes away. He’d poured two glasses of water and set his, half-empty, aside to offer the other to her when she came closer. Not all the way close, though. He had to take a couple steps himself to hand her the water.
“Here, baby,” he said. “Take this.” He touched her arm lightly. “Come sit down. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She took a sip of water and let him lead her to a plush leather divan. She set her glass down and then sat, and he did too—turned, so he was facing her. He kept her hand in his.
“I’m not sure how to say this.”
Indy didn’t know how to help him. If he wasn’t trying to let her down easy, and that was the only possibility she could think of, she didn’t have a clue.
“I guess,” Sigge started. He held her hand in both of his now and was sort of petting her. “I guess I want to begin with making sure you know what my feelings are. I…well, I think I’m falling in love with you.”
“Sig.”
He huffed out a breath. “Not what you expected, huh?”
She shook her head. No, not really. In fact, her head wanted to spin.
“I wonder,” he went on, his gaze intent on hers. “I wonder if you can see your way to believing me about that.”
Could she? Almost, except for… She bit her lip, determined to be honest with him. “Not quite.”
His eyes fell as he took a couple breaths, then he looked back up at her. “Not quite, because…?”
“Because at lunch you…”
His lips quirked, almost a grimace. “I…sat there and watched when Ty kissed you?”
Indy nodded slowly. “You didn’t care.”
“I cared,” he said bluntly.
“But you didn’t—”
“Slug him,” he finished for her, more to the point than she would have been.
“You didn’t object, I was going to say.”
He nodded like he understood, but still, he corrected her. “I did object, and, normally, I’d have slugged him.”
“But you didn’t.”
“You’re right. That’s not really like me. Not like me at all, in fact.”
He turned away a bit, though he kept hold of her hand and squeezed it tight. “I want to be with you, Indy. I want you to be with me. I’m serious about that. Like I said, it means something to me. A lot, in fact. And still, I’m okay with you doing whatever you want with Tyler and J.J.”
For a long minute Indy worked to process the words, like they formed an unsolvable math problem. Imaginary numbers, or something she remembered from high school. Dividing by zero, or…
Then, abruptly, she understood and pushed away from him, standing and having to tug at her hand before he released her. He stood too and followed as she backed away, crowding her. He went for her hand again, but she ducked him, clasping her hands tightly to herself.
“You’re saying you want us to be together.”
“Yes.” Emphasis on that.
“But you’re okay if I cheat on you.”
“No!” He said it like she’d expect, like he hadn’t just told her exactly that. “Cheating would be…it would be, like, going back downstairs to the weight room and hooking up with that suit who was eyeing you.”
She almost laughed. That was exactly what she’d expect of him. That he would know, would see like he had radar for it, if a handsome, no doubt wealthy businessman even thought about testing the waters with Sigge Ahlstrand’s woman.
She understood who he was as a man, she was sure she did. And he must have seen it in her eyes. He turned and walked around her, going to the wall for the switch that raised the shades. He stood there, holding it, until they were all the way open, and then he stared out at the mountains. Finally, he turned back to her, his shoulders leaning against the big windows, the view behind him. A fitting background for this mountain of a man.
“I appreciate that you’re still here. I take that to mean you’re willing to hear me out.”
Indy nodded slowly. She’d considered running, knowing he’d deliberately given her the chance when he had his back turned. She’d thought about it for a long moment. But, well, she liked him. A lot.
“You have to understand what they mean to me. Tyler and J.J. have been my family. I’ve spent more years with them than the family I was born into. Okay?”
“Yes.”
“They like you, too. They both do, a lot. Just like I do.”
“And so, you’d what? Be willing to share?” Her voice got a little squeaky at the end of that.
He looked at her and shoved his hands into his front pockets. “Yeah. Don’t that beat all?”
“Because…” She thought about it for a minute. “Because breaking up with me isn’t the last thing you’d want, it’s the second-to-last thing. The very last thing you’d want would be to break up with them.”
He made a bit of a face. “Well, I wouldn’t phrase it exactly like that—kind of girlie, that way. But, yeah. Except…except, maybe, it’s more of a tie.”
“You don
’t want to have to choose.”
He lifted a hand toward her, like he was asking her to listen, really listen. “Of course I don’t. Would you? I mean, if you had someone as close to you as they are to me? I don’t think you do, but if you did? Could you imagine it, Indy? Can you?”
She shook her head. There was no one like that in her life. Except for now, maybe, Sig. What would she do, rather than have to give him up? But— “How do you see that working?”
“I don’t know.” He pushed away from the window and walked close, looking down at her. “We might have to make it up as we go along.” He quirked a little smile. “I admit I’d probably be hoping they’d lose interest and move on. But honestly? I don’t think they will any more than I think I will.”
“Jeez Louise.”
He chuckled ruefully. “Yeah.”
“You’d expect me to…?”
“Have sex?” His eyes flicked over to the bed before they rested back on her. “Oh, yeah.”
“I mean, with all of you? I mean…all…?”
“I know what you mean. And it would be entirely up to you.”
Indy took a deep breath, but it didn’t really help settle her. “The three of you talked about this?’
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“And it doesn’t seem crazy to you?”
“It does seem crazy.” He leaned a little into her, his head tilted a bit. “It just seems better than…anything else we could think of.”
Suddenly he was too close. He was so beautiful, so…powerfully attractive to her, she felt like he could…mesmerize her into anything he wanted. Indy took a step back and, then, for safety, another. “I think I’ll go now.”
“Okay.” His lips formed a flat, narrow line and his gaze fell to the floor.
He stood still as she gave him a wide berth, circling around to move toward the door. But he’d turned to watch her—she knew it as she reached for the doorknob and he spoke. “Indy?”
She didn’t turn, but she paused.
“Remember what I said about how I feel about you. How I think I love you.”
She closed her eyes for a minute but still didn’t turn. Yes, she would remember that. It would be pretty hard to forget. Those words had kept her there, in his room, listening to his crazy talk.
Three Men and a Woman: Indiana (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 12