Just Right!

by DawnMarie Richards

  “Why are you doing this?” she wondered without deprecation. “Why do you care?”

  “That’s easy, little one,” Felix told her quietly, tightening his embrace as he stretched over her to kiss the top of her head. “Because you deserve it.”

  “Deserve what?”

  “To be protected and seduced,” he murmured, his lips moving over her hair.

  Asher leaned in, whispering in her ear, “Fed and pampered.”

  “And fucked three ways to Sunday,” Tate growled from close behind, making her giggle once more. “Speaking of which,” he continued. “Now that everything is out in the open, Goldie, we’ve been meaning to ask…” Felix loosened his hold, allowing her to sit up and turn toward Tate. “Sounds like the asshole was pretty vanilla. Boring as fuck, if you ask me. Is there anything you’d like to try?”

  She knew immediately, of course, but didn’t think she could say the words out loud. She dropped her gaze.

  “Aw, come on, Goldie. You told us about unintentionally coming in front of your tight ass ex about five minutes after we’d met. Do you really think anything you said would shock us?”

  “For fuck’s sake, Tate!” Felix admonished.

  But Christa laughed. He was right. She didn’t need to be coy with them. She could just be herself.

  “I’ve always wanted to know what it feels like to have two cocks inside me.”

  The most gorgeous lopsided grin spread across Tate’s lips.

  “Oh, Goldie,” he extended his hand toward her. “You sweet-talker.”

  As soon as she put her fingers in his, he pulled her to her feet and into his strong embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck, his waist with her legs. And then he was moving, carrying her out of the room.

  He took her into Felix’s bedroom, stopping at the side of the bed and bending toward the side table.

  “Hold on,” he told her gruffly.

  When she’d tightened her grip, he let go, unzipping his fly. His fingers grazed her as he fumbled.

  “Condom,” he explained before grabbing her by the waist and lifting.

  Slowly, he eased her down over him, giving her body time to adjust as he buried himself to the hilt.

  “For the record, Goldie…” His coppery gaze bored deep inside her. “You fit in here, with us, like a fucking glass slipper.”

  Christa giggled. Tate twitched inside her. And then Felix was there, cupping her breasts to pull her back against him.

  “So, little one, how much experience do you have with anal?”

  Christa sucked in a shuddering breath. “Not much.”

  “Fucking ex,” Felix muttered.

  Christa rested her head on his shoulder.

  “How much does it matter?” she wondered. “I mean, I’ve never been with two men.”

  “Never mind three.”

  Turning her head, she found Asher naked beside her. He smiled as she trailed her hand the length of his body, wrapping his cock with her fingers. She held him, enjoying the way he shifted in her grasp as he and Felix unbuttoned her shirt. When they finished, Tate bowed over her, drawing one taut nipple into his mouth. Christa arched against Felix, her eyelids fluttering low

  “Felix is very good at this,” Asher assured her, his voice tickling low in her ear. “He’ll make sure you’re ready for him.”

  She had no doubt. The Baers had proven in countless ways their sexual prowess. When it came to pleasure, she trusted them completely.

  “I know,” she asserted.

  Immediately, Felix began kissing his way down her back, angling her to rest against Tate as he glided his hands down her ribs and thighs. Pausing at the dimple at the crest of her cheeks, he found the rounds of her ass, gently urging the flesh to part before forging a slippery trail between with the flat of his tongue.

  Christa clung to both Tate and Asher, trying to process the unfamiliar sensations. Brandon had not been able to hide his disgust the one and only time she’d broached the subject of anal sex. But Felix’s groans and kisses told another story, one where every part of her was sexy and delicious. She decided she liked his version so much better.

  Felix stood, replacing tongue with cock. Gently, he prodded the sensitive opening, Christa’s stomach doing an impressive flip-flop. Her grip on Asher tightened convulsively. He put his hand over hers as if reminding her of the sensitive flesh she held in her fist.

  “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Christa. We’re perfectly happy doing whatever you’re comfortable with. Don’t do it for us.”

  Confusion drew her brows together. “What do you mean for you?”

  “Well, there are three of us and you only have so many—” he glanced at Felix and Tate before turning to her, one eyebrow cocked, “points of entry.”

  She laughed, but then grew serious.

  “I want it for me.” She looked at each of them in turn. “One in a million, right? I can’t pass up those odds.”

  “As long as you’re sure.”

  “Feels pretty damn sure to me, Felix,” Tate reassured his brother before considering her with what looked like admiration. “You’re slick as fuck, Goldie.”

  Christa giggled, peeking over her shoulder at Felix. His lopsided grin told her, though it wasn’t his style, he sometimes enjoyed his brother’s crass observations. Acutely aware of Tate’s hands at her waist, holding her steady, she reached up and linked her fingers behind Felix’s head, pulling herself to him for a quick kiss.

  “I am,” she insisted. “Absolutely.”

  Without another word, Felix untangled her from around him. He leaned her against Tate, draping her arms over his brother’s shoulders. And then Felix gripped her by the hips. Pressing forward, he eased into her a fraction of an inch before withdrawing and beginning again. As the intensity increased, Christa found herself unable to keep from digging her nails into Tate’s flesh. She felt his jaw clenching and unclenching against her cheek, but couldn’t seem to ease her grip.

  “Hold up,” Tate grumbled.

  Immediately, Felix did as his brother asked, massaging Christa’s shoulders as Tate slid slowly in and out of her. Bit by bit, she began to relax.

  “Oh,” she groaned. “Oh, yes!”

  Felix resumed making his way deeper, and, soon enough, she felt the flex and roll of his thigh muscles against the cheeks of her ass. Leaning back, she smiled up at him over her shoulder.

  Felix returned her grin, cupping her breasts as Tate began to move.

  “It’s so good,” she crooned. “So tight. So full.”

  “Wait, Goldie,” Tate told her. “It’s about to get a shit ton better.”

  Felix slowly withdrew as Tate sank into her.

  “Fuck,” Christa called, her voice growing louder with each thrust. “Fuck. Fuck!”

  And then Asher joined in, placing his lips over hers as he skimmed his hand the length of her body. The slight brush of his fingertip against her pulsing clit was all it took to send her rocketing.

  It would be the first of many. Christa was suspended betwixt the Baers long into the night. One orgasm flowed into another as she writhed and twitched, ensnared in a trap she had no wish to escape.

  Chapter Eleven

  A chorus of even breathing called to Christa. Not quite ready to be awake, she snuggled deeper into the warmth, a netting of arms and legs constricting around her.

  Slowly, she opened her eyes. In the muted morning light, she saw Asher lay on the pillow beside her, snoring softly, his hand on her hip. The beard tickling her jaw told her Tate curled behind her. His forearm was angled over her ribs, his fingers curving her breast. She had to lift her gaze to find Felix. His body slanted behind Asher’s. His head bowed as if he kept watch over her and his brothers, his fingertips just touching the crown of her head.

  What a difference twenty-four hours had made. Yesterday, she’d woken up alone. And today? Today, she lay at the center of the Baer triangle, a phenomenon as mysterious and all-consuming as the one of Bermuda f
ame. Her mind seemed clearer than it had in months. Free of the recriminations and regrets of the past. And eager for whatever possibilities her future might hold. There was power in sex. But what she’d experienced with Felix, Asher, and Tate… That shit was magic.

  A warm hand cupped her cheek, her attention drawn to a coppery gaze.

  “Morning,” Asher whispered, leaning in to press his lips to hers.

  Briefly, he slid his hand beneath the fall of her hair before running it the length of her back, smoothing her to him. His erection pressed her thigh and Christa reached for him, his need her only concern. And as she closed her fingers around him, Asher captured her sigh of satisfaction with a kiss.

  Tate stirred behind her. His hard length pressed between the cheeks of her bottom. She wriggled toward him.

  “Good morning to you, too, Goldie,” he murmured in her ear, making her whimper when he reached round and caught a nipple between thumb and forefinger. “Hey, Felix.”

  “Mmm?”

  “Looks like Goldie needs another fucking. You in?”

  Christa peeked up at him, her stomach quivering at the carnal look on his face.

  “Absolutely.”

  Christa couldn’t contain her groan. Bending at the middle, she ground into Tate in artless invitation, but he stayed her hips. She felt him twisting behind her, heard the slide of the bedside table drawer, and jumped at the touch of cold lubricant. He murmured nonsense in her ear as he circled the tight opening, easing into her by degrees until his middle finger was fully seated inside her. Then he slid it in and out of her until her cheeks were slick, her body grasping. Only then did he exchange cock for finger, effortlessly sliding inside her.

  She barely had time to register the coupling when he rolled onto his back, taking her with him. Belly bowing and arms and legs splayed, she lay panting. And then there was Asher, moving up over her, catching her at the knees with his elbows and opening her wide. He hovered above her, waiting. When he had her undivided attention, he thrust into her, her body shifting over Tate, her head falling back over his shoulder. Her harsh gasp was cut short by a hard length. Smiling, Christa closed her lips around Felix.

  For several crystalline moments, they were still, buried deep. Christa was expectant, yet replete. And then the three began to move, sending her reaching blindly for something to hold on to. One arm overhead, one to the front, her fingers found Felix’s muscled ass and Asher’s broad back. As the tension mounted, she gripped tighter, shaking her head slowly to the sensual rhythm of the cocks sliding in and out of mouth, ass, and pussy.

  She hardly noticed when Felix removed one hand from her breasts and tangled his fingers in her hair. Holding her steady, he pressed himself deep. Christa’s groan became a gag.

  “Fuck, Felix,” Tate complained beneath her, his hands tightening on her hips. “Ease up.”

  Slowly—so very slowly—he withdrew. Air flooded her lungs, the places where the Baers penetrated her awash in sensation. Christa looked up at Felix, begging him with her eyes. Urging him forward with the hand she had cupped to his ass.

  “She wants more,” he announced, rocking a shit-eating grin. “Don’t you, little one?”

  So much more it frightened her. But raging need had taken control. Neck extended over Tate’s shoulder, she opened wide to Felix’s will. Over and over, he held her in place, pressing deep, making her twitch. And when he withdrew, allowing air to rush back into her lungs, the muscles between her thighs clenched convulsively around his brothers’ lengths.

  “She’s almost there,” Asher reported.

  “Too soon,” Felix determined.

  Tate and Asher burrowed into her before going still. She wriggled in protest, but they refused to move. Only Felix continued, his hard cock chaffing her lips as he plunged in and out of her. Her heart pounded, her body paralyzed at the edge of release.

  And then they raised the stakes. Tongues circled her breasts. Teeth tweaked and tugged at nipples already puckered to tight buds. Fingers slid low over her belly, grazing her clit before moving away to trail an inner thigh or rise of a hip. So far beyond deciphering whose touch belonged to whom, Christa found she no longer cared. It didn’t matter which Baer delivered the ultimate stroke, as long as she was allowed to be swallowed up by the roiling waves of the orgasm being kept just out of her reach.

  “Poor Goldie,” Tate mocked as she whimpered. “Too hot for you?”

  Their chuckles echoed around and through her. And she realized her release would depend on their desperation. Dragging her thoughts from the throbbing impotence between her legs, she focused, instead, on the one cock she had any hope of inciting. She flattened her tongue, holding it against the underside of Felix’s length as he withdrew. And when he reversed course, she fought to consume him. Opening wide, she ran her tongue over the tight coils of hair which covered his balls. His fingers tightened painfully in her hair. But she ignored the half-hearted attempt to discourage, continuing to plague him with her antics.

  “Little one,” he complained. “Fuck!”

  At his drawn and laden curse, movement recommenced between her legs, Asher and Tate coordinating thrusts. One slid in; the other slid out. Over and over until Christa viciously raked her nails down Asher’s back. He arched backward, plunging deep, forcing her down onto his brother’s cock. She bowed over Tate, mouth opening wide, providing the perfect opportunity for Felix, his cock sliding past the tight ring of muscle at the back of her mouth and deep into her throat.

  It seemed to be the last straw for Felix. With a curse, and cartoonish pop, he pulled out. Closing his fist around his cock, he aimed at her chest. Hot cum laced her breasts, sending her over the edge.

  She reached out at the sudden surge of release, clutching at Felix, her nails digging into the hard flesh of his ass. From far away, she heard his surprised laugh and felt the flex and roll of his muscles as he clamped a hand to her bucking hips, holding her steady. Tate and Asher continued to piston her between them. And not until every last tremor had been wrenched from her quaking body did they, too, succumb.

  Chapter Twelve

  The rhythmic crunch of footsteps echoed in the frosty air as Christa, Tate, Asher, and Felix made their way back to the cabin. They’d been to the clearing, the one pictured in Tate’s guest room photos. The beautiful dell had been covered in newly fallen snow, a pristine canvas Christa couldn’t resist. She’d wandered into the open expanse, watching with amusement as the brothers’ expressions had morphed from puzzlement to alarm when she’d crossed her arms over her chest and then fallen backward into the powder. It had taken a few seconds for Felix and Asher to join her. Despite a smattering of good-natured grumbling, they’d flapped their limbs enthusiastically. When she’d looked for Tate, she’d discovered him halfway up a nearby oak tree, camera lens winking in the sunlight. Laughter had bubbled out of her, carrying on the frosty wind like the flakes sent swirling by her fanning arms and legs.

  In a weekend of boundary-obliterating debauchery and sexual satisfaction beyond her wildest imaginings, the innocent moment was, by far, her favorite. An unexpected gift of intimacy she knew she would savor long after the lustful details of her decadent weekend had become little more than faded memories.

  Suddenly pensive, she fell behind the men. Tonight would be her last in the Baers’ fairytale world. All too soon, she’d be back on Lana’s couch, forced to confront the mess she’d made of her life. What had she been thinking? Giving up everything she’d worked so hard for? And for what? The empty promises of a selfish man? The possibility of some unrealistic happily ever after? With no ready answers, she let her gaze wander over the Baers’ broad backs and trim hips, the easy confidence of their strides. Oh my, but they are beautiful. The concurring ache between her thighs troubled her. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing their time together was almost at an end.

  “Everything all right?”

  Lagging behind his brothers, Felix waited for her in the middle of the path.

  “Fine,�
�� she asserted as she walked past him.

  With two quick strides he’d caught up, falling into step beside her. “You sure?”

  “Positive,” she insisted, curving her mouth into a tight smile.

  “Last one home peels the potatoes!” Tate shouted up ahead, making Christa jump.

  Felix tangled his fingers with hers, slowing her as his brothers took off down the path. Asher paused, scooping up a handful of snow, which he lobbed at Tate. The two men’s laughter echoed as they faded from view.

  “Idiots,” he muttered.

  “Oh, come on,” Christa chided as she bumped up against him playfully. “Admit it, you love it.”

  “You’re right. I do.” Surprised at the gravity of his tone, she looked over to find him focused on her. “It’s why it’s so hard to picture a life without them.”

  Christa pulled Felix to a stop. “Why would you?”

  He sighed and then dropped his gaze. “How long do you think we can go on like this?”

  “Like what?”

  “Sharing a home, our lives.” He angled his head, peeking at her from the corner of his eye. “The occasional woman we’ve picked up in a bar.”

  “I don’t understand.” She gestured toward the receding path and the cabin waiting at the end with a sweep of her hand. “Isn’t that what all of this is about? The three of you sequestered on the edge of the wilderness? So you can be yourselves, live your truth?”

  He faced her.

  “Our truth?” He grinned. “And what, exactly, do you think that is, little one?”