As soon as he was out of his book, though, he was into her. She loved his mind—inquisitive and perfectly willing to fill in any blanks with his own vivid imagination. Over lunch, he learned all about the Victorys and their winery and made up back stories for them that would have the wives blushing and the men strutting.
He appreciated the meal, eating his sandwich, finishing hers and putting a big dent in the dessert. She noted he ate the pea salad with less enthusiasm. He gamely helped her clean up after and then asked her if she wanted to take a walk.
She agreed. It was a typical pattern for her—lunch, then a hike on the Finger Lakes Trail that wandered along the winery border, followed by another hour or two of work.
She was certain on this day that extra time would be spent in a different activity, and she was right. He enjoyed the walk—he had an appreciation for the land and was interested in the late spring flora. She took him in the direction of a brook that tumbled over little falls at this time of year but would be dry by the end of summer, and he enjoyed that as well.
But his real attention was on her. He held her hand constantly, sometimes rubbing the back of it against his chest as he used his other arm to pull her close to his side. He’d stop—stop walking, stop talking, stop her talking—mostly that—at random times so he could kiss her. He’d slip his hand into the back pocket of her cutoffs and palm her ass as they walked, or, worse—better—slide his fingers up under the folded denim and stroke them perilously close to her very center. Or even all the way there.
They paused in the secluded little glen where the brook settled down to a quiet stream. He backed her against the trunk of an old oak and kissed her while he took his hands over her everywhere.
“Soon,” he whispered, with his mouth at her ear, her neck. “Soon, I’ll have you here.”
It could have been then. He was hard, very hard, his erection pressing against her belly, the root of it nudging up against her pussy. His breath was strained, matching hers. She was tense with desire, wet with need. His hand pressed into her from behind, and she’d have done nothing at all to stop him if he’d slid her shorts down and taken her. She’d have done everything she could to help, in fact.
But he pulled himself in, giving her a hot look, and turned her back to the house. “Today,” he informed her, “I want a bed.”
So they went there, kissing along the way, but moving with greater intent now, no gentle meandering. By the time they got to her porch he had his arms full around her, walking her backward into the house and up the stairs to her room. He kissed and held her hard, working at her mouth, breathing harshly.
“Suck me,” he said. “Suck me. Will you? I want you to.”
Evangeline had no experience at it, but, again, she’d seen enough to have the idea. And as soon as he said it, she wanted it, too.
She stepped back from his kiss. She gripped the edges of the cotton shirt he wore, thumbing the buttons open as she bared his chest. He was all smooth skin over rippled muscle. After meeting his eyes for a long exchange, she dropped her head and ran her tongue over him.
Over his sternum first, greatly enjoying the low growl she elicited. She pressed her face against him, breathing in his scent.
It was so strong, the recollection of that scent. She remembered it from the tree house, when she’d burrow into the sleeping bag he’d use, and sleep there wrapped up in his essence. She often spent the night that way, his lingering aroma her only comfort.
Still gripping his shirt, she slid her tongue out and tasted his nipples.
He liked that, too, huffing out another breath and using his hands to grip her head. He held her like that when she went back to his center and licked her way down to his navel. She went to her knees and breathed him in there, too, rubbing her face into the soft line of hair there. He held her to it, his breaths bringing his hard abs gently against her cheek.
“Jesus, Evvie,” he moaned.
She brushed her cheek lower, rubbing it over the hard bulge behind his jeans. She pressed her face right there, breathing against him, and then brought her hands up to caress him. Lifting back to watch the motion, she dipped her fingers inside his waistband. Then she popped the button open and unzipped his fly to release him.
His cock was hard and ready, standing straight up. And so very big, so her fingers would barely reach around him and both her fists wrapped around his length wouldn’t quite contain him.
He swore again and brought her close so the smooth, hot skin of his shaft rubbed against her face. She nuzzled it, then put out her tongue to stroke once. His breath caught, and he arched a little, seeking more.
He held her there, and she knew he leaned forward to watch. “Wet your lips,” he instructed. “Put them around me, just the head.”
Evangeline liked having him direct her, liked learning how to please him. She ran her tongue over her lips and then put them on him, right at the big bulb of his head. Wetly, she stroked over him before opening her mouth to take him in.
He growled out his pleasure. “Use your tongue. Baby. Evvie. That’s so good.”
She used her tongue and her lips, drawing him into her mouth. She liked the smooth feel and earthy taste of him and the way what she did excited him.
“Stroke me with your hands, sweetheart. Yes, yes. Like that.”
She ran her fingertips over him, then took him a light grip and stroked him. She wet her fingers so they slid more easily.
“Enough, enough.”
She didn’t think so—she was just getting the hang of it—but he pulled back, away from her.
“It’s too good, too soon. Come up here.”
He started to lift her, but she resisted. “No, I want more.” She went after him, taking him into her mouth again.
He groaned. “Baby, you’ll make me come. You don’t want—”
But she did. That was exactly what she wanted, and she told him so.
“Jesus,” he said. “Okay, then. Take me deeper.” He held her head and started fucking her mouth. “Open your throat, like you’re swallowing me.”
He was grunting, very happy, and Evangeline loved it. He gave little pumps into her mouth, but every few strokes he’d go deeper, down into her throat. She had to work at that, learning how to open herself so she didn’t gag.
His pleasure was worth it. It was clear he loved those deep strokes. Each time he’d shudder and groan, making the most of it before he went back to short pumps and let her breathe.
“Baby. Evvie. Baby.” He growled, pumping harder, and pushed one hand down her shirt, inside her bra, to grab hold of a nipple. His fingers jerked, tugging in time to his thrusts. “Touch me,” he instructed. “Stroke my balls.”
She worked his jeans lower and found his sac, running her fingers along that center seam.
“Yeah,” he encouraged. “Fuck, yeah. Evvie. God, Evvie.”
He was arching now, groaning in pleasure. Then he had one more instruction for her. “Evvie,” he said. “Wet your finger and shove it up my ass.”
Yes, she thought. She liked that. Fair play. She liked him making himself vulnerable to her, giving himself over as she did to him.
She did what he asked. She slicked her finger with spit and pushed it between his legs. He crouched a little, making way for her. She found his opening and pushed in, just her first knuckle.
“Aah!” Briggs snarled in pleasure, holding her head hard for his thrusts, pulling strongly on her nipple. “Yes. Fuck, yes. Keep going. Fuck me with it.”
With a tremor of excitement, she shoved deep. His ass clenched on her finger, spasming, and he howled as he started to come.
“Fuck! Fuck. Swallow, goddammit. Swallow.”
He arched and thrust, deep into her throat twice and then into her mouth. She felt the power of his hot spurts, one after another, in the back of her mouth. She swallowed as he commanded, getting just a little, salty taste of his cum.
He shuddered out the ending, falling over her, pulling out and panting. “Up on t
he bed,” he said. “Get your clothes off and get up on the bed.”
Falling onto his side on the bed, he managed to keep an eye open to see that she was complying with his orders. He was still breathing hard but watched carefully as she started to unbutton. “You fucking bitch,” he breathed. “That was your first blow job, wasn’t it? You’re a freaking savant. If that was any better, you’d have killed me.”
Evangeline smiled serenely and made a little tease of slipping out of her blouse.
He noticed.
“I’ll practice. Maybe you should be afraid for when I get some real skill.”
“I fucking am, baby.”
He wasn’t half so dead as he made out. His eyes flared as she unfastened the front latch of her bra and slowly opened it. She dropped it to the floor, then cupped her breasts. He cursed when she slid her thumbs over her nipples.
Taking wicked pleasure in this sultry woman-power she hadn’t known she possessed, she kept one hand on her breast and stroked the other down her abdomen. Lingeringly. She slid it back and forth when she reached the edge of her cutoffs, and let her pinky trail a bit inside the waistband.
“You fucking bitch.”
She was sure he meant that in the best way. She wallowed in her power, letting him hear as her breathing turned to soft little moans.
He cursed again. “You did that yourself, didn’t you? Cut those jeans off so short that I’d spend the whole fucking morning waiting for a little glimpse of ass, watching how they teased at your cunt. Fucking get them off now. I’ve had it with them.”
Evangeline nearly laughed out loud, but she got the sense that might be goading the lion just a little too much. His cock didn’t look so spent as it had a few minutes ago.
With just a little more titillation, she unzipped and slid out of her shorts.
He gave her a very male nod of approval. “Up here.” He patted the bed next to his chest. “I want your ass right here. And spread your legs. I’m tasting that hot cunt of yours right now.”
Well. Another first. She wouldn’t be the one to say no to it.
But the thought of it was tantalizing, and she shivered a bit as she moved to the bed. He gave her a hand and lifted up, so when he helped her arrange her legs, he was situated between them. Propped on one elbow, lying over her thigh, he looked his fill.
“You’re very pretty down here, sweetheart.”
Who’d have thought those words would make her shudder?
“Let’s make a little more room.” He nudged her far leg up further, pressing her foot with his knee.
She felt very exposed, vulnerable.
“Here,” he said, reaching to touch her lips. “Suck my finger. I think we’ll start where you ended. You’re going to want to get it good and wet.”
Evangeline moaned, anticipation and a little fear warring. He pushed his middle finger into her mouth, managing to give the sense of fucking her with it. Moving his torso, he nudged her thigh wider until she was splayed open, entirely at his mercy.
Watching her face, he took his finger and put it right at her anal opening. Then he shoved in.
Evangeline whimpered with the abrupt taking and lifted a little in an instinctive effort to escape.
It was frying pan to fire, though. Briggs’s mouth was right there, just waiting as her pussy thrust up. He took her clit in his mouth, sucking hard on her once, then stroking with his tongue. Evangeline squirmed, the stimulation from both directions driving her wild. She huffed out a breath and collapsed back onto the bed.
Briggs took advantage. He circled his finger inside her sphincter, a wicked torture. He worked her clit avidly, in a way she couldn’t escape now with the bed confining her movement. He leaned further over her and found a breast with his spare hand.
His tongue and lips were incredibly skilled. She began rocking, making more of his attention to both ass and clit. She thought that was all, as much as she could take. She learned she was wrong when he thrust his thumb up her cunt.
“Ohh. Ohh.”
He was fucking her both places now, thumb and finger. And torturing her at the same time with those stirring strokes and pulls on her clit.
He kept going, increasingly aggressive as he drove her higher, making her flex and moan in urgent need.
“Briggs. Briggs.”
“I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.”
He did. Oh, how he had her. She bucked wildly and started screaming, giving herself over to him, letting him have his way.
It was a long, rocking orgasm. Each time she thought she’d peaked he pushed her higher, thumbing her, fingering her, tonguing her. He told her he’d make her go higher, but she didn’t believe it. She shook her head in denial, learning too late that he was right, spasming yet again as he worked his magic.
Until, finally, she was too weary to do more, until her bones melted and her muscles fell lifeless. Barely conscious, she breathed out in drowsy sighs.
“Here, baby. Come here.”
Her ears were ringing, and she could barely hear, much less process. But he was moving, lifting her.
“What? No.” Whatever he wanted, she couldn’t do it.
“I need this, just this.”
He’d turned onto his back. Pulling her on top of him, he brought her knees up so she straddled him. Then he set her down, piercing her with his cock.
“Briggs, no.”
“Shh, baby. This is all. I just needed to be here.”
Of course that wasn’t all. He let her rest first, she was sure. She thought she’d slept for a while.
But he was there, inside her, filling her with that wicked, hard cock. Inevitably, she felt it pulse, felt it throb as his interest grew. She stirred minutely as he flexed.
Or maybe that was her motion. Maybe she’d rocked just a little, grinding down for a bit more of that very good thing.
He wrapped his arms around her, securing her against him with his forearms clutched across her lower back and hips. “It’s okay, baby. Stay still. We’re fine.”
Fine, her ass. Without moving at all, he’d stirred her up again, making her wanty and needy just like that.
She wasn’t fine. She needed something…something.
He needed it, too. He lay still under her, not flexing, not thrusting. Even so, his cock surged into her, timed with his heartbeat she heard with her head against his chest.
Her nipples tightened, and her breath hitched. She turned her head, flopping it against his shoulder and grasping his hair so he faced her. They looked at each other, their gazes locked and their breath shared.
Yes, he needed it, too. He groaned, and his eyes lit as he tightened his arms. She felt it, the hard contractions of his muscles in his chest, his biceps, as he brought her harder down on his cock. Slowly, he curved his spine so he flexed up into her, filling her hard.
She was splayed out against him, her legs open, her pelvis ground against his.
Then he—rocked. Not really thrusting into her, hardly moving at all, he somehow gnashed further into her.
She was helpless against it, the severe stimulation, the implacable grip he had on her, the hard entrapment of his gaze.
She was lost, lost, shuddering in his unbreakable hold. They watched each other, groaned, and came.
* * * *
“I’m off tomorrow. I’m going to Evvie’s. I’d like you to stay here.”
“No.”
Chase cursed, and he didn’t make any effort to keep quiet about it. Damn Briggs. “You’ve been down there every day this week.”
“I have. And I’m going tomorrow, too.”
“Goddammit, you say you’re working, but you’re probably fucking her every day.”
Briggs raised his eyebrows and gave him a direct look. “I am working. And I’m fucking her every day. I can do both. And I intend to do both again tomorrow.”
“Come on, man. We don’t get to see her this weekend. And next week, Gio will be back. I want some time with her.”
It had been a h
ard week for Chase. He’d worked three long day shifts, leaving early and coming home late. But he wasn’t so late getting home that he’d avoided seeing Briggs.
Chase was out the door by shortly after five in the morning. Briggs was still asleep at that time—he usually worked until midnight or so. But Chase knew he got up every day and went to Evvie’s. He was back before Chase got home.
Briggs really was a decent guy. He could be counted on to have cold brew and good food ready when Chase walked in after a long and hard day. And Chase enjoyed it, their evenings sitting out on the deck, sharing a meal from a top Rochester restaurant and a couple beers. Briggs had enough humor, intelligence, and imagination to make a great conversationalist, and Chase always liked spending time with him.
But it fucking pissed him off now, seeing Briggs happy—really happy—and knowing that a lot of it was because he was banging Evvie every day.
And Chase wasn’t.
Friday was his first day off since they’d all gone down there together. He wanted to be with her.
He’d spent most of Tuesday trying to convince himself the ménage thing would never work. He’d taken a shot at convincing Gio and Briggs Monday night, but he could see that was all falling on deaf ears.
Chase had always been the sensible one, and he’d made an effort about it initially. By Wednesday, he’d started to cave, and, now, he’d simply given over.
He wanted to have Evvie. Plain and simple, he didn’t want to give her up. It had become more than clear that the only way he’d get to have her to himself would be if Gio and Briggs gave her up. And, being sensible, he knew that wasn’t going to happen. He knew them well enough to know they were sticking.
There wasn’t any point in fooling himself. If he wanted her, he was going to have to share. When he thought about the hours the four of them had spent in her room on Monday, it didn’t feel like a hardship.
Practically speaking, it seemed nuts, and he couldn’t believe he was considering it as a long-term arrangement. But remembering that wild fuck fest, the answer came easily.
Briggs had been watching him as he took a pull on his beer and then set it down. “All right. Evvie and I have spent the mornings working. We have lunch and then take a walk and then—”
Three Men and a Woman: Evangeline (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 14