by Brynley Bush
“Shhh, baby. It’s only Drake. He’s simply here to add to your pleasure.”
Drake’s mouth slowly releases my breast and he meets my wide-eyed gaze, his piercing, blue eyes bright with lust.
“Let us love you,” Griffin says cajolingly, his fingers still stroking over my sex, refusing to let me come down from the crest of pleasure I’m riding.
“I can’t think when you’re doing that,” I moan in frustration.
“Don’t think. Just feel. Let me give this to you, Mila.”
Drake’s hands stroke down the length of my arms, lifting them over my head where he encircles my wrists with his fingers, imprisoning them there. My breath catches as liquid fire pools in my belly. As Drake holds me there, Griffin plants kisses up my torso until his face is inches from mine. His eyes are dark with passion, his mouth sinful.
“Do you want this, Mila?” he asks, his voice raspy. “Both of us pleasuring you, taking you?”
God help me but I do. The thought of being taken by two men is intoxicatingly sensual. Griffin was right. There is some deep and forbidden place within me that he has seen all along but that I am only now discovering. But there’s a part of me that doesn’t understand how I can love only Griffin but want this.
“Yes, but…” I don’t know how to put my confusion into words.
Somehow, my inadequate words are unnecessary. His eyes are understanding as he says firmly, “Make no mistake, Mila. This changes nothing. You are mine.” He spears two fingers into my wetness to make his point as he leans forward to press a hard kiss on my lips. “I will share you this one time, and only because it’s my brother, but you will always be mine. Only mine.”
I close my eyes in acquiescence as my pussy clenches around his fingers.
He pulls out of me, but before I can protest strong hands are stroking my skin, caressing down the tender undersides of my arms, kneading my swollen breasts, spreading my thighs. I lose track of whose hands are where, my focus narrowed only to the sensations that are so sweet and intense that they threaten to tear me apart. There is oil that smells faintly of lemongrass, and they massage it into my heated flesh as Griffin’s mouth follows the path of the oil like a road map. The oil is warm on my skin, but when Griffin’s tongue touches it, it becomes incendiary, setting a fire that blazes across my nerve endings. I writhe beneath the two sets of hands that are hell bent on driving me to the edge of a bottomless abyss.
Drake pulls me back against his chest, his unyielding hands spreading my legs, holding me open for his brother’s assault. Griffin’s mouth closes over my clit, and Drake’s hands move to my breasts, his fingers plucking at the sensitive tips as Griffin sucks my clit into his mouth. They work together seamlessly, Drake somehow knowing the exact moment to grasp and tug my nipples in erotic rhythm with Griffin’s tongue driving into me. My hands fight for something to hold on to as I feel myself tossed recklessly by the tumultuous storm of pleasure that is almost frightening in its intensity.
Griffin is there instantly, centering me, and he rolls me onto my side to face him as I grip his shoulders, my nails digging into his hard biceps. “Eyes on me, sweetheart,” he says. “Don’t be afraid.”
I feel Drake move behind me, his hands stroking across my back as Griffin kisses me, his lips and tongue taking what’s his, possessing me.
“Look at his face,” Drake whispers in my ear. “He loves you with his heart and soul.”
My eyes fly open to study Griffin’s face, wondering if that can possibly be true, as Drake’s cunning fingers reach around me to tweak the hard points of my nipples. I gasp. Griffin smiles as his mouth slants across mine again, and I kiss him as if that’s the only thing that can save me as Drake’s hands move to my ass, gently parting my cheeks. My muscles clench as he presses an oil-slickened finger against my rear entrance.
“Relax. Give yourself over to the pleasure, baby,” Griffin murmurs.
His fingers skim across my mound and I can feel the slickness of my desire coating my thighs. Oh yeah. I want this. He drives two fingers into my drenched pussy at the same time that Drake pushes his finger into the puckered opening and I scream at the exquisite invasion. In tandem, they work and stretch me, molding me for their pleasure and mine.
The thick head of Drake’s cock probes my anus and my lower half flares with heat. My ass still feels tender and stretched from earlier, and Drake pushes into me slowly as Griffin raises my leg, granting him easier access. My fingers fist into the quilt as Drake penetrates me slowly and then retreats, over and over again, pressing into me further each time until his thick cock is firmly seated in my ass, filling me with a sweet combination of pleasure and pain.
Strong hands—I don’t know whose—grasp my hips firmly, holding me still as Griffin guides his thick shaft into the drenched folds of my pussy. I can feel Drake’s hard cock throbbing in my ass as Griffin stretches me, filling me completely, and my muscles clench as my juices spill over him.
They slowly begin to move inside of me, and although I desperately buck against them, wanting more, needing release from this exquisite torture, they refuse to allow me to speed up my inevitable descent into ecstasy. They take me in measured increments, possessing me, one thrusting as the other retreats in a coordinated dance of intoxicating sensuality designed solely for my benefit. Drake drives deeper into my ass as Griffin hammers into my throbbing pussy, making me fit around Drake’s cock even tighter. It is a maelstrom of sensation—pleasure, pain, agony, and ecstasy combining in a heady cocktail that makes me drunk with a restless craving, an all-consuming need.
I’m panting, their coordinated assault driving me to heights I’ve never been before. My skin is glazed with a sheen of sweat and the white-hot pleasure blinds me. I hear a strangled scream and dimly recognize it as my own as they penetrate me, their strokes becoming harder and deeper until I think I will splinter into a thousand pieces.
“Look at me, Mila!” Griffin’s voice cuts through the roaring in my ears and my eyes flutter open. With some effort, I focus on him. His eyes are filled with a fierce, hot need and something more, something primitive, his pupils so dilated that his hazel eyes are almost black. “This is between us. You and me.”
I nod mutely, lost in the vortex of a primal need.
His fingers fist in my hair as he takes my mouth in a hard, ruthless kiss
“Look at me,” he commands gruffly. “I want to see you when I make you come.”
He holds my gaze as he finds my clit, laying his thumb over it with the slightest pressure as he slams into me. Drake simultaneously presses into me from behind as desire, wild and furious, surges through me. I writhe between them, wanting more, wanting less, certain I’m going to shatter from the agonizing pressure building deep within me. Griffin pinches my clit as he and Drake thrust again, hard and forceful. My body stiffens and my breath stops—a tiny death—and then I explode between them, the orgasm flooding me with the force of tsunami. I come in a torrent of light and color, the blood rushing in my ears as I fight to breathe, my sex clenching in an unstoppable and unending orgasm that ravages me.
Griffin’s teeth sink into my shoulder as he cries out my name, thrusting into me one last time as he spills his release into me.
I am barely conscious of Drake’s muttered curse as he jerks and shudders, his shaft throbbing as he empties himself into the condom that sheathes him as the tiny aftershocks of pleasure continue to ripple through me.
Drake recedes back into the darkness as silently as he appeared, leaving me and Griffin alone again. I collapse against him as his arms encircle me, pulling me close. I am exhausted and boneless, the after effects of the earth-shattering orgasm taking their toll as my eyes close.
“Look at me, sweetheart.” The whispered command has me struggling to open them again and our eyes lock. He cups my cheek tenderly. Holding my gaze, he says in a voice thick with emotion, “I love you, Mila, with all of my heart and soul. Don’t ever forget that.”
“I love you too,” I m
urmur as my eyes flutter closed again. “Always and forever.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Bright fingers of sunlight wake me and I roll over sleepily, pulling the downy comforter with me. My eyes open as I realize I am in a soft, comfortable bed. I instantly reach for Griffin, but the bed beside me is empty. I sit up, pulling the comforter over my bare breasts as I try to get my bearings.
The last thing I remember is falling asleep on the beach in Griffin’s arms. He must have carried me to bed and I didn’t even wake up. I smile as memories of the previous night come flooding back. It’s no wonder I didn’t wake up. I have never been so completely possessed and used and pleasured, so thoroughly fucked, and my body is sore in the most delicious way.
In the light of day, I can’t believe the things I did last night, the things I craved. I never could have imagined I would enjoy the distinct thrill of being taken by two men, but somehow, as always, Griffin had pushed me beyond my comfort zone to undreamed of heights of pleasure.
I sigh as I replay the previous night. I vaguely remember him murmuring something about fulfilling my fantasies, and I freeze as I remember telling him the first night we were together that my darkest fantasy was two men at once. At the time I had been joking, trying to shock him, but I realize with dawning comprehension that he had taken me at my word and given me the experience he thought I had wanted. My heart melts a little at the sweetness of the gesture. God knows it had been hot as hell, although I’m not sure I’ll ever want or need to repeat it.
Judging by the angle at which the sun is glittering off the ocean, it’s got to be close to noon and I’m surprised Griffin has let me sleep so long. We’re flying back to San Diego today; he’s probably downstairs waiting on me.
I reluctantly climb out of bed and shower, letting the hot steamy spray soothe my sore muscles. I towel dry my hair as much as possible, leaving it natural, and slip into a pair of cutoff jeans and a comfortable red tank top before going downstairs to look for Griffin.
When I walk into the kitchen I find Drake, not Griffin, sitting at the kitchen table, an untouched cup of coffee on the table before him. Faded jeans cling to his long legs that are stretched out in front of him, and scuffed cowboy boots and a white ribbed tank top that reveals the coiled dragon inked on his bicep complete his bad-boy look. His brooding gaze makes his handsome face all the more attractive and dangerous-looking, and I can see why girls around the world are in love with America’s bad boy, although I’ll take Griffin’s easy-going charm, bone-deep strength, and fierce confidence any day. I smile a secret smile at the thought that he is mine. He loves me!
I should probably feel self-conscious around Drake given the things he did to me last night, but somehow I’m not. He’s simply Griffin’s brother, and his participation in our lovemaking last night was more like an extension of Griffin himself.
“Where’s Griffin?” I ask casually, crossing the room to pour myself a cup of coffee.
Drake looks up but he doesn’t smile.
“Gone,” he says quietly.
“Gone where? We’re supposed to fly back today. Is he going to be back soon?”
Drake sighs as he wraps his hand around the mug in front of him as if he needs something tangible to hold onto.
“He’s not coming back, Mila,” he says heavily. “He asked me to make sure you got back to San Diego.”
I look at him, puzzled. “That doesn’t make any sense. When did he leave? Is he going to meet me in San Diego? Did something happen?”
“I don’t have any answers, Mila. He left before the sun came up. He didn’t tell me where he was going, just that he wouldn’t be back. He told me to take care of you and get you home safely.”
“Well surely you know where he is!” I demand as tiny fingers of dread grip my heart.
“I swear I don’t. He gave me an envelope to give to you when we get back to San Diego. Maybe there’s some sort of an explanation in it.”
“Give it to me now!”
Drake shakes his head. “I can’t. Griffin specifically said to not to give it to you until you were home.”
“Damn you both!” I cry, slamming my coffee cup down on the countertop. “Please, just let me see it,” I beg. “Where is it?”
He looks back at me implacably.
“Fine. I’ll find it myself,” I say resolutely, letting out a huff of anger.
“Mila! Sit down!” Drake’s voice is every bit as commanding and authoritative as Griffin’s, and I automatically plop my bottom onto a barstool. For a brief moment, I both pity and envy the woman he sets his sights on.
I sigh in resignation. “You’re just as much of a dominant as your two brothers. How that’s even possible is beyond me, since you aren’t even related.”
“Our brotherhood is stronger than blood,” he says evenly. “I’d do anything for either of my brothers, and I know they’d do the same for me.”
What the hell is wrong with me?
“I’m sorry, Drake,” I say remorsefully. “That was a thoughtless thing to say. I didn’t mean it.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I know you’re just worried about Griffin.” He sighs, his eyes troubled. “To be honest, I am too. He’s left before on work assignments and hasn’t been able to tell us where he’s going or when he’ll be back, but this time his goodbye seemed strangely final. Besides, he’s been on a leave of absence so it can’t be work related. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe Beckett knows something,” I suggest.
“Maybe,” Drake agrees. “We have no cell service out here so we’ll have to wait until we get back to the States to find out. Why don’t you get packed up? Maybe we’ll find out more when we get back to San Diego.”
I agree and go upstairs to pack the few things I’ve used over the past twenty-four hours. When I come back downstairs twenty minutes later, Drake is waiting for me. He wordlessly takes my bag and I follow him out the door.
I give the house, the beach, and the ocean beyond it one last glimpse, willing myself to memorize every detail and moment of my time here with Griffin before I follow Drake down the path through the jungle toward the landing strip.
“Are you a pilot too?” I ask as we make our way back through the thick jungle.
“No,” he says. “A pilot arrived by boat about an hour ago from the mainland to fly us back. Apparently Griffin had already arranged that.”
I digest the knowledge that Griffin had known ahead of time that he wouldn’t be flying me home.
“If the plane’s still here, then how did Griffin leave?” I ask in confusion.
“The hell if I know,” Drake answers, raking one hand across his stubbled chin. “The boat’s gone, so I’m assuming he took it to Belize.”
“Shouldn’t we go look for him? What if he’s in trouble?” I demand, my voice breaking.
Drake stops and turns to look at me sympathetically. “Mila, I know Griffin. No one needs rescuing less than him. He planned this down to the last detail and executed it with precision. For whatever reason, he doesn’t want to be found. We’re just going to have to be patient and trust him.”
With a sinking heart, I realize that all of the times he told me that he couldn’t have a relationship because of some mysterious personal issue, all of his assertions that he would be leaving the country for an indeterminate amount of time, have come to fruition. This is the inevitable end he had alluded to but that I had somehow tricked myself into believing wouldn’t happen. It’s over. I don’t know where he’s gone or why, but I know he’s not coming back. After all, he told me so himself countless times.
I can feel the fissures splintering around my heart, and suddenly I want nothing more than to be home alone where I can grieve. I nod at Drake and we walk the rest of the way to the plane in silence. The pilot is a congenial man who doesn’t speak much English, but Drake apparently has no trouble communicating with him and they talk in a language I don’t recognize. Not caring, I numbly board the aircraft and buckle
myself into the seat.
Thankfully, Drake doesn’t try to make meaningless conversation, and I close my eyes as we cross the blue Caribbean, letting sleep, and with it sweet oblivion, overtake me. We land several hours later at Lindbergh Field where a car is waiting for us. I glance out the window as we drive, the familiar landscape surreal as if I’m seeing it through the wrong end of a telescope.
“We have coverage now,” Drake says, gesturing to his phone.
I nod but don’t make any attempt to turn on my phone. I have no desire to reconnect with the outside world when my own world has effectively ended.
“I called Beckett,” Drake says softly.
That gets my attention and I look at him questioningly.
He shakes his head. “I haven’t been able to reach him. Or my dad either.”
Deflated, I stare back out the window until the car rolls to a stop in front of my house. Drake follows me up the sidewalk, taking the key from my fumbling fingers and opening the door for me. He follows me inside and sets my bag down in the hallway.
I hold out my hand. “Can I have it now?” I ask numbly.
He reaches into the casual black jacket he had shrugged on at the airport and pulls out a manila envelope which he hands to me. I take it and hold it close to my chest.
“Are you going to open it?” he asks me.
“Not yet,” I say, finally meeting his gaze. His eyes are filled with concern.
I take a deep breath. “Griffin always told me that one day he’d leave and that it would be for good,” I say with sad resignation. “I just didn’t know when. I’m sure this is just his final goodbye, which I’d rather read alone if you don’t mind. You can go. I’ll be fine.”
Drake looks unconvinced.
I turn away, assuming he will see himself out. Instead, his strong fingers grip my arm, turning me back around. I back up slightly, the wall behind me. He places a card with a phone number scrawled across it in my palm and folds my fingers over it.