“Happy birthday, Kylie.” Aiden licks and sucks until my nipples are aching peaks and I am arching against Dan, offering my breasts for the pleasure of Aiden’s mouth.
“Touch her cunt,” Dan says, shocking me with the crude word. “Tell me if she’s wet.”
A thrill of excitement ripples through my body. Is this Dan? My Dan? Talking dirty the way he used to do? Need coils deep inside me, making my body heat and my sex throb.
Aiden slides his hand down my belly and cups my sex, his fingers gliding through my labia. “She’s soaked. And so close. I could get her off with one stroke.”
“Lay her down on the bed and spread her legs. I want to see just how wet she is.”
Aiden obeys immediately, easing me back on the soft duvet, my knees bent. “Open for us,” he says softly. “Show us that pretty pussy.”
My hands clench, bunching the cool cotton as he pushes my legs apart. “Dan?”
“I’m here. I like seeing you like this, all spread out for our pleasure.” His voice holds none of the tension I sensed earlier, and no hesitation. He knows exactly what he wants, and how he wants it. But how far will he let Aiden go?
“She’s very tempting like this.” Aidan traces lazy circles up my inner thigh. “Should I see how far we can take her?”
“Do it.” A chair creaks, and I hear Dan’s heavy footfalls on the carpet.
“Do what?” I strain against the blindfold, turn my head from side to side, desperate for some evidence of Dan’s presence aside from his voice—a shadow, a glimpse, or even a touch. How curious that Aidan’s hands are on me, but all I want is Dan.
“She likes her birthday present,” Aiden murmurs. He strokes a thick finger through my folds and up to circle my clit. Over and over, with the same slow pace, never touching where I need him to go.
Oh God. All my blood rushes downward, and I rock my hips, seeking just the smallest bit of friction to push me over the edge.
“Poor baby. You’re hurting, aren’t you?” Aiden pushes two fingers inside me, and I arch off the bed, a thin whine of need escaping my lips.
“Do you want to hold her?” he asks, pulling out. “She’s right on the edge, and I still haven’t had a taste.”
The bed bows, creaks with Dan’s weight. Strong arms wrap around me, and he pulls me against him, my head against his chest, his cock, hard and throbbing, presses against my back.
“You doing okay?” His voice rumbles through me, warm and comforting.
“I need to come,” I whisper.
“I know you do. But we want to take you just a bit higher.” Dan nudges my legs apart farther. His hand circles my neck loosely, and he tips my head back, my cheek to his cheek, my every breath at his mercy.
My words catch in my throat, and I strain against his firm grip. Although at the back of my mind I know I can end this with just one word, my vulnerability sparks a firestorm through my blood, turning my insides into molten lava.
Dan hooks my legs over his, holding me open. “Tease her,” he commands.
“My specialty.”
Aiden works his thumb through my folds and nudges my clit. My hips shoot up, and Dan presses his free hand against my stomach, holding me down.
“Bring her close,” Dan says, as he toys with my nipple, his other hand still loose around my neck. “But don’t let her go over.” His voice is firm with authority, and there is no longer any doubt in my mind who is in charge.
The bed dips, and Aiden’s shoulders press against my thighs. He blows softly on my mound and then slides a finger along one side of my clit.
“Oh God.”
He chuckles and slicks my moisture around the engorged nub with a feather-light touch.
I wiggle and squirm on the bed, straining against Dan’s powerful grip. But Dan is strong, unyielding. And with each failed attempt to get free, I feel a thrill of excitement that only heightens my arousal. This is what we had before, what drew us together, what I have so desperately desired but could never put into words. What I have missed the most.
“Almost there,” Aiden whispers and then he licks right over my clit.
“Ahhh.” My head thumps against Dan’s chest, and he grabs my hands and pins them to my stomach.
“Easy, sweetheart.”
But it’s not easy. Not when every touch of Aiden’s tongue makes my body tighten, my legs shake, and my clit throb. “I can’t take any more,” I moan.
“I think you can.” Aiden pushes his finger into me, and my vagina clenches around him.
“Take her over,” Dan says, earning my undying gratitude and at least a month of his favorite Sunday pot roast dinners.
Aiden sets his mouth on me again, licking and sucking as his fingers pulse in and out, his five o’clock shadow scraping over the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. Dan rolls and pinches my nipples, murmuring soft words of encouragement that I would find sweet if my entire body wasn’t focused on the burning need for release.
Finally, Aiden draws my clit gently between his teeth and thrusts his fingers deep.
My climax comes hard and fast, crashing through me. I arch up on the bed, letting out a long, wailing cry. Dan holds me tight, and my world splinters, pleasure rippling out from my center to my fingers and toes.
It feels so right to be in his arms, and yet, the closer we get, the further removed I feel from Aiden who has been nothing but giving and kind.
Does Dan feel the same? What will he do when we take the next step? He told me once he didn’t share. How will he share me in the most intimate way? Do I even want to be shared?
Chapter Five
“Beautiful,” Aiden whispers. “So responsive.”
He releases me and Dan helps me to sit, still cradling my body.
“We’d better slow things down.” Dan pulls off the blindfold.
Aiden gives me a cheeky smile, as I blink, adjusting to the light. “Hello, green eyes.”
“You’re even prettier in person,” I tease, no longer feeling shy or inhibited about my body or what we’re doing tonight.
“I’ll bet you say that to all your ménage partners.” He is kneeling on the bed, his shaft thick and hard, bobbing gently in my direction.
“What now?” I ask, fighting back the urge to take him in my hand and tease him as ruthlessly as he teased me.
“Now we get closer.” Kneeling between my legs, Aiden pulls a condom from the bag on the bed.
Dan goes rigid behind me and hisses out a breath. “No sex.”
Aiden’s eyebrows lift, and he glances down at me. “Kylie?”
Until now, I’ve just been going with the flow. I haven’t thought about the difference between touching and kissing, oral sex and penetrative sex, but clearly there is a big difference for Dan. Should there be a difference for me?
In just two days, my world has changed, and even more in the last few hours. We have emerged from the cocoon that we wrapped around ourselves when our children were born, afraid of going back to who we were in case we lost touch with who we thought we were supposed to be.
And yet we have stayed together because the core of who we are, what first bought us together, is still there. The fire. The excitement. The thrill of giving and taking control. We are walking the edge like we used to do. Together.
“I only want Dan inside me,” I say. “But I’m up for anything else.”
Dan’s arms tighten around me, and in that moment we are no longer lost. We are found.
Seemingly unfazed by our limit, Aiden shrugs and glances up at Dan. “How do you want to do this?”
“Turn over, sweetheart.” Dan releases me and helps me onto all fours. “Take him in your mouth.” He threads his fingers through my hair, tugging my head back as Aiden guides his cock toward my mouth.
Up close, Aiden’s cock seems impossibly large, and I hesitate, just flicking my tongue over his crown, tasting the heat of his desire.
“Open.” Dan slaps my ass so hard I lose my breath. Pain sheets across my skin then turns in
to a burn of pleasure that centers in my clit.
“I want to do that until your ass is red and swollen with my handprints,” Dan murmurs. “I want you to go to work and think of me every time you sit down. Now suck him before I get distracted from my agenda.”
Taking a deep breath, I wrap my lips around Aiden’s cock, drawing him into my mouth. His hand glides through my hair, his fingers tightening on my head.
“Very nice, green eyes. You can go harder. I won’t break.”
Balancing carefully with one hand, I wrap the other around his shaft and work it in counterpoint to the slide of my lips. Aiden groans and takes over, holding my head still as he pumps into my mouth.
Dan leans over me, covering my hand with his, fingers threading together. His cock glides easily between my thighs. “You’re going to take us both at once,” he whispers in my ear. “We’ll all come together. Open for me.” He nudges my legs apart, and his free hand slides over my hip and down my stomach. His fingers circle my oversensitive clit, and I moan against Aiden’s cock, my muscles tightening as my arousal spirals out of control.
Sensation builds on sensation. Dan’s light touches on my clit, his cock pressed against my swollen entrance, the slow tightening of Aiden’s hand in my hair, the scents of sex and sweat, the rasp of our heavy breathing, Aiden’s shaft thrusting into my mouth, the sight of Aiden’s body moving back and forth as he pumps his cock into me.
“I can’t.” I pull away, gasping for breath.
“Trust me,” Dan says. “I’ve got you.” His lips brush my cheek, and then his voice drops. “Take him. Take me.”
Aiden grips my hair and pushes into my mouth as Dan pinches my clit and thrusts his thick cock inside me.
Too much. Too much sensation. Too much pleasure. I tip over the edge, screaming my release around Aiden’s shaft. My vision dims as my climax tears through me, ripping my body apart with shards of exquisite pleasure.
“Jesus. Fuck. She’s hot.” Aiden thrusts so deep I choke. He lets out a ragged groan and I feel his climax, his cock pumping in my throat.
He pulls out just as I am on the verge of panic, and I suck in a deep breath. Dan retreats with a low groan that tells me he hasn’t had his release.
“Dan?”
“Later, sweetheart.”
I collapse on the bed, roll to my back. Aiden and Dan settle down on either side of me. Dan is still erect, his thick, hard cock resting on his belly.
“I was surprised when you called your limit, Dan.” Aiden runs his hand idly over my body, tracing my curves, my breasts, the soft down of my needing-to-be-waxed mound. “You’re damn possessive. I didn’t pick that up when we first met.”
“I didn’t know I still felt that way,” Dan says. “After that first kiss, it took a lot of restraint not to pick you up and toss you through the window.”
“Well, then I’ll enjoy Kylie while I can.” Aiden leans over and brushes a kiss over my cheek.
They touch me while we chat about the town, the people we know, sports and vacations in which we share an interest. Hands on my breasts, fingers on my pussy, lips on my skin. The entire experience is almost surreal. Dan’s shaft presses into my side, and soon I am wet, throbbing, and needing to come all over again.
“Play time is over,” Dan says abruptly.
“I didn’t think you’d make it this long.” Aiden pulls on his clothes and gives me one last kiss on the cheek. “Best I’ve had without doing the deed.”
“Thank you for coming.” I don’t know what else to say. Miss Manners doesn’t cover ménages in her books.
He looks over at Dan and nods. “Thanks for sharing her. Call me anytime.”
After the front door closes, Dan cups my jaw with his hand. “First and last time. I can’t handle sharing you again.”
“Was it really that bad?”
“Revival almost lost a dentist.” He rolls on top of me, his forearms braced on either side of my head. “You’re mine, Kylie. Part of me got off watching you get off, but the other part wanted to tear him apart limb from limb. You belong to me. Your body, your soul, your pleasure. Mine.”
Exhilaration soars through me. He wants me, loves me. Just the way I am.
“And you’re mine,” I whisper, but he is caught up in the moment, soaring on his alpha high.
“You don’t kiss other men.” Dan lifts my chin and gives me a look that makes my stomach quiver. “You don’t want other men. You don’t fuck other men. Especially men like him.” His mouth descends on mine, hard and rough. Claiming. Possessing. “I should spank your ass for the way you kissed him, but I want you too damn bad.” He tweaks my nipple, then gives it hard pinch. “I was going to be gentle, make love to you once we were alone, but I can’t hold back. I need to know you’re mine, Kylie. I want my mark on you and my cock inside you and my name on your lips when I make you scream.”
His words, his tone, the raw need and desire in his voice, all make my insides melt and my folds swell and throb. “I’d like that.”
“Fuck.” He lifts my leg up to his shoulder, spreading me wide, and then he thrusts into me so hard my back arches off the bed. “Look what you fucking do to me,” he growls. “You drive me out of my fucking mind.” He buries his head in my neck, gently biting the sensitive skin, then he sucks it hard between his teeth. Pleasure mixes with pain, and I gasp with his every groaning thrust. Heat spreads through me, beating back the remains of the chill that settled in my heart over the last few years. My hands slip from his shoulders, unable to grip. My eyes close, unable to see. I am surrounded by him. Taken. Possessed. Loved.
“Let it go. Let it go for me.”
He slides his hand between us to stroke my clit, his fingers rough on my sensitive tissue, and the fierce coil inside me comes undone in a blinding surge of electric pleasure. My hips buck against his hand, and he strokes me into another violent release that strips me of everything but the feel of his thick cock filling me, pounding against my womb.
“Kylie.” He gives a deep growl and stiffens, his fingers tight on my hips as he climaxes with short, hard jerks inside me.
For a long minute, he doesn’t move, then he leans down and kisses me lightly. “I gave you a damn good hickey,” he says. “You’re gonna have trouble hiding that at work.”
“I’m more worried about hiding it from the boys.”
He gives a satisfied grunt, then rolls to his back, pulling me into his side. I rest my head on his broad chest, nuzzling his hair. Was it only two days ago that I lay far away on the other side of the bed, waiting for him to turn off the light?
“I’ll aim lower next time.” His fingers brush over the sore spot on my neck, already sensitive to touch. “I plan to keep you permanently marked.”
“How about something simpler?” I lean up to nuzzle his jaw, rough with a five o’clock shadow. “Like a pendant that says, ‘Keep off’ or ‘My woman.’”
“Maybe for your next birthday.” He caresses my breast, glides his hand over my curves, brushes his fingers over my mound. The way he touches me—soft, lingering caresses—makes me feel beautiful. Desired. Loved.
“This one is going to be hard to beat,” I whisper.
“Because you got a dentist?”
“No.” I lean up and kiss him, soft and sweet. “Because I got you back.”
Thank you so much for reading Naughty Wishes. I hope you enjoyed it! Stay up to date on my new releases by signing up for my newsletter at http://bit.ly/SC2news.
If you’re looking for more Naughty Shorts, keep reading for a sneak peek at Naughty Secrets, the third novella in the series. Featuring a rough and rugged farmer (think flannel, rippling muscles, and a man who doesn’t mind getting dirty) and a brilliant, hard working farm wife, it is a story about love, loss, longing, and second chances.
Naughty Secrets
by Sarah Castille
“Got a present for you.” Sam tosses a bunch of freshly picked carrots in the kitchen sink.
I force a smile, while inside I
scream.
I hate carrots.
I also hate beets, cucumbers, radishes, broccoli, potatoes, corn, and all the other fruits and vegetables that have to be picked, washed, prepared, and canned during harvest. I hate the early mornings and the late nights, the loaves of bread I have to bake, the roasts I have to cook, and the pails of sandwiches I have to make and take out to the fields for Sam and his hired men. I hate that Sam sleeps in a different room from August until October, and then again during seeding from April until June because he gets up before dawn and goes to bed after midnight, and he doesn’t want to disturb me.
But most of all, I hate that it doesn’t matter. After ten years as a farm wife, I’ve gotten used to sleeping alone.
Today is a hating day, and the damn carrots are going to suffer.
“I’ll make a carrot cake.” I imagine the satisfaction of grating the wretched carrots into a pulp. “You like carrot cake.”
Sam has to be reminded of what he likes. He eats, not because he enjoys the food I prepare, but because he needs fuel, and if something appeals to his palate, I only know if he asks for more.
He grunts his assent and washes his hands in the kitchen sink. Sam’s hands were the first things I noticed about him when he moved to town. He was sixteen, the only son of a banker who had given up a lucrative city career to move to our very own Revival, Montana after he inherited a farm from a distant uncle.
When Sam showed up in our tenth-grade English class wearing a black leather jacket covered in studs, his long, dark hair cut short at the back, and so long in the front that it partially covered his face—much to our teacher’s irritation—and carrying a guitar over one shoulder, he became an instant hero among the predominately rural conservative student population. A rebel after my own heart.
Even now, I still remember how his Evanescence T-shirt fitted tight around his lean, muscular frame. He was tall and just starting to fill out, although his broad shoulders and rippled muscles hinted at what was to come. His gray eyes seemed to flash and glitter like a summer storm, and when he first turned his electric gaze on me, I melted inside.
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