by Shaye Marlow
He gave it to me. I shuddered as he pushed two fingers into my aching center. He moved them in long, sure strokes as the heel of his hand pressed against me.
I tilted my chin up, staring into his eyes, breathing his breath. The moment stretched as the fire he was stroking into me spread to my limbs. I tilted my head back further as the tide of pleasure swept me along on its rhythmic, rising swell.
“I love watching you,” he rasped. “You’re so damn sexy when you—”
I moaned, my lids fluttering as it felt like he added another finger. He was stretching me just to the sweet edge of pain.
“Yes, when you do that.” His free hand brushed across my overheated cheek. “The pink color of your blush, the way you forget how to talk.” He was smiling down at me, but he still had three fingers wedged into my sopping pussy.
My brain didn’t even try to handle all the inputs. I just locked my knees and tried to keep my eyes open.
Sweet Jesus—it was his thumb now, circling my clit. Not quite touching, just nudging me ever upward. The pleasure was becoming a riptide, increasing in pace, dragging me toward the end of the line. I could feel the heat rising, my muscles trembling.
I harnessed enough brain cells to spit out a word. “Wait.” I pushed at his hand. “You. I want you. Inside me when I cum. Please.”
When he stepped back, his breaths heaved. “Take your shirt off,” he said. Then he reached into his pocket, retrieved a condom, and shoved down his pants.
I fairly ripped off my shirt, but even so, he was bearing me back against the door before I flung it away. I didn’t know where it went, but I didn’t give a fuck. I was busy sucking Gary’s tongue into my mouth.
He was just this side of rough. He lifted me up, pinned me to the door, and pushed into me. We both groaned, and then it was a frenzied race to the finish line. The door thumped in its frame with each of his powerful thrusts. I felt each thick, wonderful inch of him as it pounded into me.
The feeling quickly blended into a crazed crescendo of pleasure. I screamed into Gary’s neck, dimly aware my brothers were still just a few feet away. Mocha growled again, and if I’d been paying any attention at all I might have been gratified she was worried that Gary was killing me.
But my body currently had selective hearing. I could ‘hear’ Gary’s thick cock buried in me to the root, his hard chest flattening my tingling breasts, his firm hands on my thighs and buttocks. I could smell the sweat on his skin and hear his deep groan as he followed me into the roiling abyss.
Minutes passed where I was just a trembling mess, and it was all I could do to breathe, once I recalled how. Luckily my heart kept doing its thing, and my vision did eventually come back, so that was good.
Gary set me down before I was entirely ready. He steadied me, laughing as I wobbled. “I was the one holding us both up,” he pointed out.
I grunted; post-coital conversation was not my forte. I leaned back against the door, still trying to recover.
Gary scooped up his clothes and walked into the bathroom. I heard water running, and when he came back out, he was dressed, and looking as scrumptious as ever.
I winced as his foot glanced an empty beer bottle. It fell with a rattle, then rolled and clanged against a chair leg.
Gary glanced at the brothers. They hadn’t even stirred. “Wow,” he said. “They are really out. I thought with some of the noises you were making we’d be caught for sure, but…”
I started to put my shirt on like pants, but got myself straightened out before anyone noticed. I yanked my sleep pants up my legs. I had no idea where my underwear had gone, but I’d find them later, I was sure.
I crossed to Gary, and observed my troublemaking siblings. In sleep, they should have looked innocent, but mostly they just looked sloppy. Zack was sprawled on the floor, naked except for a pair of boxers, his mouth gaping open like a dead person’s. Rory’s neck was bent at an angle I was sure he’d feel in the morning. His feet were on Zack’s legs, and his shirt had ridden up to reveal a hairy belly. J.D. was curled up on the next cushion. He’d retained his clothes, but not his dignity; his thumb was trying to find its way into his mouth.
“They drank a lot last night,” I said.
Gary slanted a look at me. “Do you think they were maybe couldn’t-even-remember-what-happened-last-night drunk?”
I started nodding, and then my gaze locked with his.
He rubbed his chin. “Didn’t they… lose your boat?”
“They did,” I said. “They also cellophaned my toilet, and drank my beer. And they stink,” I added, noting the lingering bouquet of ass.
Gary’s grin widened as his eyebrows climbed. ‘Well? What should we do to them?’ his dancing eyes asked.
“We could draw penises on their faces,” I suggested. “I have a magic marker around here somewhere.”
“Classic and funny,” Gary said, “but…”
“Yes?” I’d taken a couple steps toward the markers, but was arrested by his naughty expression.
“...would you like to really humiliate them, and possibly cause permanent mental scarring?”
I sat at the table, leaned back, and crossed my legs. “I’m listening.”
He sat across from me, his grin infectious. “How about we position them to make it look like they had sex? Strip them, arrange them so they’re spooning, leave a bottle of anal lube lying nearby. Take some pictures…”
“I do like that idea,” I said. “But. Problems. One: I get the feeling if my brothers were to wake up spooning, the one in the back would just give the other a squeeze and whisper softly in his ear, ‘Good morning, sweetheart’.”
Gary pursed his lips. “So we make it worse than spooning. And even if they play it cool, we will have at least created a niggling doubt, I guarantee it.”
“We? That was my next question. Are they out enough for us to do this, and were you going to help? ‘Cuz I can’t lift even half of the bigger ones.”
“Of course I’ll help,” he said, pushing to his feet. “Sounds like fun.” He crossed to the couch and picked up Rory’s arm. When he dropped it, it flopped heavily back to the top of the couch. Rory didn’t stir. He pushed Zack’s feet with one of his own, sliding them unresistingly across the floor. Then he picked his way around to J.D.
“I’d be careful with that one,” I said. “He tends to come up swinging.”
Gary leaned over and did something to my youngest brother, and then grinned. “Yup. They’re out.”
“Okay. Lastly: Anal lube?”
“I can come up with something,” Gary said, coming back toward me.
“Can you now?”
He dropped into the seat across from me again and met my gaze.
I felt myself getting flustered, imagining Gary coming at me with a bottle of anal lube in his hand. It was another thing I’d researched and written, but had never actually done. But I’d do it with Gary. Maybe I could write it, and he’d act it out just exactly as he had climbing through my window.
My mind went to work, fleshing out that scene. For the first time, I’d like privacy and a bed, but then we could get crazy. The dock. The canoe. My fingers itched for my keyboard.
Gary snapped his fingers. “I lost you for a minute there,” he said.
I cleared my throat, shifting on my chair. “We’ll talk about this later,” I suggested.
“I was kinda hoping we’d do more than talk.”
Just like that, the air between us began to feel charged. I’d had him just a few minutes ago, but I wanted him again. For this helicopter pilot that’d burned my blueberries, apparently I was insatiable.
He was watching me with that intent look, like he was reading each thought as I had it.
I jumped to my feet. “Let’s do this.”
He looked up at me, his muscles tensed to move.
“The brothers,” I added hastily. “Let’s do them.” I winced. “Arrange them, I mean.”
And we did. It took about a half hour of heav
y lifting and laughter until we had them arranged to our satisfaction.
“You know,” I told Gary as I straightened up for what I hoped was the last time, “this would be a lot more convincing if you wanted to strip down and be sandwiched between them. That way, when they wake up, you could say something like, ‘Wow, you guys were great, thank you’.”
Gary snorted. “It’s a good idea, but yeah, no, I’ll pass.”
I put my hands on my hips, surveying our work. We’d left Zack on his back on the floor, though had stolen his shorts. We’d put Rory on top of his legs in a folded-down reverse cowgirl, also minus his clothes. J.D., we’d curled around Zack’s head so Zack would wake up with a face full of crotch and a really bad feeling.
Gary had run over to his place and come back with a bottle proudly labeled, ‘Anal Lube’. It was cherry flavored, and that kind of scared me—but I was sure I’d live. We’d drizzled it over the appropriate areas so the whole scene was more convincing, and then left it, uncapped, lying next to them.
“They’re not the one I’d like to enjoy,” Gary added.
I glanced over at him.
“I have another fantasy, if you’re interested.”
It was after two in the morning, but of course I was freaking interested. I could sleep when I was dead. “I’m listening,” I said, trying to play it cool.
He walked a little closer, so he was standing just inches away, looking down at me like he had the day he’d emptied a glass of water on me. This time, I held my ground.
“I want to dominate you,” he said.
I never would have guessed. “Yeah?” Despite my mental sarcasm, my voice came out breathy. If I was being completely honest with myself, I wanted that too.
“Yes. I want you to surrender to me. Completely,” he whispered in my ear. His knuckles brushed the side of my unbound breast through my shirt, making me tremble.
I stepped back to get enough room to think. Complete surrender. I didn’t know what that involved, but I did like it when he held me down. So… what? He wanted to restrain me, tell me what to do? I had problems following orders, but maybe just this once I could manage. He wanted to be rough? Sweet. I’d actually liked it when he smacked my butt, so I had no real fear there.
Who was I kidding? With him looking at me like that, I’d do whatever he wanted.
“Okay,” I said.
His face was serious, but his eyes danced. “Get upstairs.”
Quashing my instant impulse to do the opposite, I turned and walked stiffly to the ladder.
“And keep your clothes on until I get up there,” he said. “I want to watch you take them off.”
My shoulders tightened. “But you just saw me take them off,” I pointed out, turning my head to look at him.
“Are you arguing with me?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft.
My skin prickled. Yes! Yes I am! “No,” I squeezed out.
He chuckled.
This was going to be hard, I could already tell.
Chapter
Twenty
“Shirt first,” he said. “Slowly.”
We’d climbed the ladder, and he was facing me at the end of the bed.
I fingered my shirt’s hem, intent on giving him exactly what he wanted. I inched it over my waist, revealing my pale skin in the moonlight. His expression went hungry when I revealed the milky curves of my breasts. I languidly pulled the shirt up over my head and let it float to the floor.
“And the pants,” he instructed. He was already tenting his. It softened me just a little to his demands, knowing what I did to him.
I eased my sleep pants down, letting them slide the last little bit. I stepped out of them, completely naked, loving the way he looked at me. My body wasn’t perfect—whose was, really?—but he was looking at me like I was devastating. My breath came just a little harder, my nipples pebbling in the cool air.
“Now take off mine,” he said.
I stepped toward him. Reached out—
“With your teeth,” he said, his lips twitching as he caught my expression.
Really? I sighed as I looked up into his face. Apparently, he was going to push me.
But, just this once, I allowed my spine to bend. I leaned down and lipped at the hem of his shirt. I was down near his straining erection, so I took the opportunity to blow a long, hot breath on him. See what you’re missing?
He groaned quietly, and then I got his shirt in my teeth and dragged it upward. He met my eyes when I got up to pec level. “Good girl,” he said.
I prickled again. Maybe when he was inside me, I’d let him get away with shit like that…
This is his fantasy, Helly! I berated myself. It’s just this once, and if you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again. Even if I was having mental doubts about this, my body was 100% on board. I was wet, soaked through, warm and tingly pretty much all over.
He eased the cloth from between my teeth, and took the shirt the rest of the way off. “And the pants,” he murmured.
I looked down, contemplating. Then, feeling flippant, I dropped to my knees before him.
He made an appreciative little sound, and I looked up at him as I slowly leaned in. Oh, he really likes this. I slowed down even more, letting him feel my breath. I traced the tip of my tongue up his shaft through the material, and finally took his waistband in my teeth. I pulled the elastic waistband down over his cock, my whole body clenching as he sprang free and brushed against my cheek.
I wanted his cock in my mouth, and was pretty sure he wanted the same. Just as soon as I got these damn pants down, he’d order me to suck him off. Then I could have him. He’d melt before me, and it would be great. I dragged his pants down, and then reached for him.
He stepped back, stymying me.
“But…”
He tossed a grin over his shoulder as he walked away with my new favorite toy. He shoved my blankets back and lay down on the bed, propped up on the pillows, his arms behind his head.
Okay, he wanted a lazy blowjob. Not bothering to stand, I crept across the mattress toward him.
“I want you to lick your way down my chest,” he said.
Okay, he wanted foreplay with that lazy blowjob. I crawled up next to him.
And then… I got to do that which I’d been longing to for weeks. I put my mouth on that smooth golden-tan skin. With my hair trailing after, I worked my way from his collarbones across his really nice pecs. I’d always thought men’s nipples were funny, but neither of us were laughing as my tongue flirted with his.
Then, and only then, did I allow myself to follow his happy trail. I took the scenic route, tracing the dents between each pair of abs as I worked my way down.
Anticipation had me in its hold. I wanted to wrap my hand around him, feel the heated steel of his shaft. Taste him, see if the rubber condom flavor lingered, or the salty flavor of his cum. I wanted to tease him mercilessly, and watch his handsome face darken with need.
I locked gazes with him as I moved downward, licking my lips, letting him see my intention. My eagerness.
“Don’t touch my dick,” he said.
I froze. “What? Why?” I sputtered.
“Because you look like you want to,” he said. “Kiss anything but. My thighs, my knees. My feet have always been pretty sensitive.”
Stunned, I sat straight up. “You want me. To kiss. Your feet?” I shook my head. “Because I want to lick your cock?” I’d never heard anything so silly in my life. His attempt at domination was to rob himself of my mouth on his cock? It was the most bass-ackwards thing I’d ever heard. Downright dumb, in fact.
It was insanity, and I didn’t have to put up with it. He should be begging me for the attentions of my mouth, not finally—maybe—allowing me to blow him. This right here, this, was why women had vibrators.
He grasped my arms, not letting me pull away, and rolled his eyes. “Oh, fine. You want the traditional approach?”
I was about to start cussing when he pushed m
e belly-down onto the mattress, and rolled on top of me. He had me pinned in under a second, his hands on my wrists, his legs and hips over mine, his chest giving me just enough room to breathe. The move was sudden, and incredibly masterful, and it ground his bare cock against the crack of my ass.
A sudden, insane, absolutely irresistible rush of arousal hit me like a drug. I moaned, pushing my butt back against him.
“Huh,” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. “You like this approach better.”
One of his hands left my wrists, and he dragged his fingernails down my side in a long scrape that sent a white-hot billow of sensation through me. Then he squeezed my hip in a way that made me whimper with need.
His weight shifted, followed by the faint sound of my nightstand drawer. I heard a condom packet tear. The sound was loud in the silence, and sent a wave of delight from my ears down to my toes. I knew what came next. My hand fisted in the sheets while my body tightened in anticipation. He slid to the side, probably putting it on.
Without warning, his hand cracked against my ass. I gasped, throbbing as the feeling ricocheted up my spine.
“That’s for being difficult,” he muttered. Then he rolled back over me. He dragged my hips up until I was angled to receive him, and his sheathed cock began to press into me. It was large and blunt, the feel of it galvanizing. I bucked up against him, trying to get more, faster. He held me down.
I turned my head and bit the pillow as he pushed into me. The feeling was magnificent. He was thick, and with my legs closed he felt almost too large. I started to spread them to ease the ache, but he pushed them back together.
He completed his invasion on a hard thrust, one that made me feel like crawling up the walls. His hips pressed flush to my still-stinging ass, and the thick root of him split me wide. He did his crazy hip-roll, and I swear I felt him all the way up in my belly. The feeling was raw, and I loved it.
He grasped my chin, pulling me so I was looking almost over my shoulder. He leaned in—a move accompanied by him pressing so high and deep I gasped—and kissed me. The combination of his tongue thrusting in my mouth and his cock lodged deep in my body made me feel claimed. Used. It was awesome.