Hers To Keep: THE QUINTESSENCE COLLECTION I

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Hers To Keep: THE QUINTESSENCE COLLECTION I Page 8

by Akeroyd, Serena


  Devon, probably.

  He’d probably find the experience enlightening.

  “You can’t turn us against one another,” he told her softly, and their faces were so close, his breath brushed her lips.

  Her scowl was like quicksilver. “Why would I do that?”

  “A couple have tried in the past.”

  “I have no intention of doing anything of the sort,” she said with a huff, her knitting needles clacking as she dumped the mass of poorly woven fabric into her lap. “These feelings I have… you all inspire them.”

  “Why?”

  And there was the million-dollar question. Why?

  She hesitated, not because she didn’t want to answer, but because she wanted to explain this to him, and to explain it well. Which, considering she didn’t really know the truth, was hard going.

  When she stayed silent, he cut her a look. “I think we should change the subject.”

  Sascha’s hand came out to grab his arm. “No.”

  “No, what?”

  Her tongue peeped out to wet her suddenly very dry lips. “Sean explained to me about your predilections,” she started softly, casting her gaze down onto the mass of wool in her lap.

  “I know he did. He told us. He also said that you were already aware of our tastes. You’d researched us.”

  She snorted. “I did a Google search. I didn’t exactly hire a private detective.”

  “Glad to hear it,” he said gruffly, but she could tell her snark amused him. “We were surprised you came back for the job once we knew you’d learned about our past.”

  “Why? It’s not like you’re perverts.”

  He shrugged. “To some we would be.”

  She licked her lips again, knowing full well his gaze was trained on her mouth. “Not to me.”

  “And there it is again,” he told her, whisper soft. “Why? Why, Sascha?”

  “Can’t you just be happy that I don’t feel like that where this topic is concerned?”

  “No. I need to understand. We need to understand.”

  She huffed again. “Most men would just pounce. You do know that, right?”

  “We’re not predators,” he countered. “And you’re not prey. That’s not how this works.” He scraped his chin with a hand. She noticed his hands were neat, his nails manicured. None of them were metrosexuals, but they were all clean cut. Tidy in appearance if not in mind.

  “When Sean explained, the idea appealed to me,” she mumbled.

  “Have you wanted to engage in polyamory before?”

  Now, it was her turn to flush. She really didn’t appreciate having the tables turned on her, but she guessed she deserved it after provoking him. “No.”

  “Then why did it appeal to you?”

  “Because you’re all you.”

  He frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “It means,” she admitted softly, “You’re all special. That very first day, I knew that. I mean, you radiate it. And you’re so attractive, kind and interested in me. You come as a group, I get that. I’d be happy with one of you, but it’s like the group is a single entity.” She groaned. “Shit, that’s a crap explanation.”

  “No, it isn’t. Carry on,” he directed her softly.

  She peeked over at him and gulped. He was interested. She could tell. Open and receptive to what she had to say. Hesitantly, she murmured, “You work as a unit. I saw that from the beginning. Being with one of you is like an extension of the others. I don’t understand how it’s possible, but it’s true. You’re so different, but streamlined in the same way.

  “Then, there are the individual quirks that make you unique.

  “I’m your housekeeper,” she said bluntly. “But you don’t treat me like that. None of you do. I don’t understand it, but it’s the truth. You defend me and shield me from Devon’s prying. He teases me, makes me laugh with his batshit questions. Sean supports me… I mean, I’m just your employee,” she gritted out. “But guess who bought this stuff for me?” Sascha pointed down at her lap. “Sean. He heard me talking about it to Devon. ‘Lo and behold, today, I have a ‘How-To’ magazine with the basic kit. He listened. Do you have any idea how attractive that is?

  “Then, there’s Kurt. He checks up on me. Makes sure I’m okay. That I’ve eaten. If he sees me stressing over the household accounts, he’s there with coffee and a hug—when I should be the one giving him coffee.

  “And Sawyer? When I told him I was thinking about working out again? He created a plan for me. Worked it out and everything. We’re starting jogging together when the weather gets better.” She blinked at him, wondering why he was surprised at why she needed more. The glimpses of how a relationship would work with them was more than she could take.

  “Can’t you see, Andrei?” she half-pleaded, hating herself for sounding desperate, hating the tears that burned in her eyes with the sudden desire she had to be theirs. “I want all of that. But I want it for me. As mine. Not as a woman who works in your house; which, to be fair, wouldn’t change if we were… together like that, you know? But, the way you treat me… I crave more. Can you blame me?”

  Her admission had him blowing out a breath. “You feel loved.”

  She bowed her head. “Yes.” Her fingers tightened on the wool, clenching to the point of pain. “Maybe at first, the notion was exciting. Kinky, even. You’re sexy, and I have eyes and hormones like anyone. You all get me hot under the collar. But now? It’s more. I want more.”

  His hand came out, and she sighed when he cupped her chin and tilted her face. Before she could say anything more, ask him anything else, he connected their mouths.

  Finally!

  Ella James’ At Last boomed in her head, complete with orchestral accompaniment, but he knocked the sultry jazz from her memory banks by robbing her breath and stealing it for himself.

  She moaned against his lips as the taste of him, the scent of him, flooded her senses. Her whole body quivered beside him as he carefully explored all she had to give.

  With a shudder, she opened her mouth and let him in. His tongue tangled with hers, entwining around it before tracing tiny circles that had her whimpering as sensation flushed through her. He didn’t thrust it into her mouth like he was tongue-fucking her mechanically. He enticed. Teased.

  She placed her hands on his shoulders, before letting them sweep up to circle his neck. He grabbed a hold of her waist and tugged her into him, until their torsos were flush, and they were as close as could be. He tilted her back, angling her head so she could accept all his kisses, and she let him. Not needing to take charge when he had the power to make her feel like this with just his mouth.

  Pulling back to nip at her bottom lip, he chuckled when she moaned and pouted. He traced the curve of her mouth with the tip of his tongue before diving back in and taking her to a whole other world.

  She moved a hand, grabbed one of his and pressed it to her breast. Arching into him, she silently pleaded with him to touch her more. God, she needed.

  How she needed.

  It was like a gnawing toothache deep in her belly. She couldn’t control it, couldn’t stop it. She needed him to control and stop it for her. She shuddered when he caressed the mound of her breast, plucking at the tip blindly through her shirt. She whimpered when he pulled away and dotted tiny pecks around her mouth, then her chin, jaw, and throat were anointed with the same caresses.

  Her skin felt on fire with tingles. She mewled as his tongue played with the sinews of her throat, tracing small patterns on one of her sweet spots. She clung to him as he teased her, before he dropped down to the V of her shirt and kissed the plump mounds of her breasts.

  Letting her head fall back against the sofa, she ran her hands through his hair and held him in place as he palpated the tender flesh with his lips. He reached for the hem of her shirt and as he dotted more kisses here and there, she sucked her gut in so he could tug the fabric out of her high-waisted skirt and start to pull it up over her chest. He didn�
�t stop until it was high above her breasts and her bra was exposed to him.

  “Yebat-kopat,” he said gruffly in Russian. The heavy syllables just fucked with her head. He sounded so sexy that she wished the skirt she wore wasn’t tight to her hips. She’d have spread her legs and begged him inside her for that voice alone.

  He carried on whispering, in a low grating voice that spoke of his need. Of his want, and it stoked the fire in her. Embers became a small flame, those few flickering flames became an inferno as he ducked into one cup and began to squeeze and torment one breast while he suckled the other.

  The whispers against her tender flesh drove her nuts, and she dug her nails into his scalp. Each time she did that, his voice deepened, until the rumbles vibrated against her skin, adding to her torment.

  “I need to touch you,” she told him thickly, her hands releasing the hold on his head to tug at the back of his shirt. He moaned against her breast, then peered up at her. Ice blue eyes danced with wicked intent and she let out a yelp when suddenly, she was no longer perched up against the sofa, she was lying flat out. Her hips dragged down so he had more access than ever.

  At his chuckle, she grinned, but the grin died and was replaced with a moan when he began to ruffle up her skirt, dragging it up over her knees, then her thighs. The instant she could, she spread her legs wide, and he groaned as she grabbed a hold of his hips with her calves and pulled him close.

  His cock was hard against her pussy. She felt every inch of him, that delicious pressure, the force of his passion for her, and needed to feel it without anything separating them.

  The desire he inspired in her was so beyond insane, she wasn’t sure if she’d be insensate by the time they actually got past third base. She rocked her hips, loving when he thrust against her. His hardness nudging her clit on each strike as he went back to work on her tits. Nibbling and nipping at her nipples, squeezing the other as he tongued her tender parts.

  Her hands scrabbled at his hips, tugging and plucking, desperate for him to rise up, to let her feel more of him. She loved that he was in charge, loved that he was in control, but she needed to feel him bare against her.

  It was hot that they were still dressed. It spoke of their urgency, their desperation, and God, she felt both. He somehow arched his hips, so she could scramble underneath, and within a few moments, his belt was unfastened, his fly unbuttoned, and his zipper down. With all the delicacy of an archaeologist who’d just found a precious artefact, she burrowed within and reached for his shaft.

  The silken flesh against her palm made her skin tingle, but the slick tip was a wet kiss against her fingers, one she wanted to taste, and to savor.

  With a moan, she pulled him free and loved the new angle, how he could rock against her harder, how she could feel his wetness against her.

  “I’m on the pill, and I’m clean,” she gasped as her hand squeezed his base and his mouth bit her nipple with enough force to have her yelping.

  Her words were the sexual equivalent of ‘open sesame,’ because he slid a hand between them, pulled her panties aside, and gritted out, “Let me inside you.”

  Her eyes widened, and a whimper gathered in her throat as she pressed his tip to her gate. Feeling his thickness in her hand was one thing, against her panties-covered crotch another. But against her bare pussy? That was a whole other ball of wax.

  She whimpered as he stretched her fully with just an inch, his voice was a growl as he gritted out, “Ready?”

  A mewl of assent was all she was capable of, and as he rocked his hips, thrusting into her with a care that touched her, she had to moan with delight as he slowly claimed everything she had to give.

  Her hands ran up and down his back with an urgency that came from his size. She was so utterly on edge that she pulled and tugged at his shirt, dug her nails in spots and raked them down his spine in others as he found his way fully inside her.

  She clutched his hips as she let out a long, deep gasp when he was there, all of him, claiming all of her.

  “Pizda rulyu. Nu naher,” he whispered against her throat, then loomed over her so their eyes were caught in each other’s gaze as he pulled his hips back and slowly retreated. Tender tissues sparked to life at the move, and she dug her nails deeper into his back in response.

  She didn’t have a clue what he’d said, and at that minute, didn’t give a flying fuck. In one swift stroke he returned, filling her so full she thought she’d choke and any thoughts of translations definitely did a disappearing act.

  She stared deep into his eyes all the while. Trapped in his attention. Ensnared by his desire.

  And she loved it.

  She loved all of it.

  He taunted them both at first. Dragging it out so that each thrust felt like both a wet dream and a nightmare. And then, he grabbed her thighs, spread them wider, and as he clutched her ass, he began to fuck her. Each move had his pubis rubbing against her clit in a way that had her seeing sparks. She cried out with the first thrust, and then each one thereafter had an endless litany of, “Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod,” spilling from her mouth.

  Now, she looked at him blindly. Not seeing him but the fireworks his fucking brought to life behind her eyes. She clenched them shut as they reached climax. The burning so fierce she knew she’d be seeing stars for hours after they were no longer joined.

  And that was exactly what they were.

  Joined. United. Bound.

  It was scary, and it was hot. It should have felt more relaxed, less powerful, but it didn’t.

  He claimed her. With each thrust, he made her his. He made her one of theirs.

  The door squeaked, and her eyes flared open at the sound. Blindly, dazedly, she stared at the doorway, and saw Kurt standing there.

  She about expired at the sight of him. His hot gaze taking in what they were doing and loving it.

  It felt right him being there. Andrei claimed her for them, but Kurt was backing it up. Reminding her, reminding them that she belonged to them.

  And then, he grabbed a hold of his cock through his pants. Her eyes dropped to his clutching grip, and she moaned at the sight.

  Inspired by that moan, he pulled his shaft out and began to jack off. Staying in the shadows. Letting her know that this was her time with Andrei, but that he was grateful she wanted him to be a part of this. Her vision grew hazy as her senses tried and failed to process the stimuli.

  It was impossible.

  She couldn’t.

  She’d needed them, and they’d provided. Her pussy clung to Andrei’s, her body clamored for Kurt’s, and when Andrei gritted out something that sounded like a swear word in Russian, a sharp gasp escaping him as her muscles clenched down on his when he pounded into her hard and fast, his own needs raking at him, she came.

  It exploded from nowhere. Filled her senses to overfull. She was blind and deaf to everything around her for a handful of seconds, until her heart suddenly pounded back to life. And with that, sensation returned, and it was too much.

  The double blow had her gasping, her back arching as the glory of the moment ricocheted through her like a wild bullet.

  And the magic of the moment came when she felt Andrei come, his cock hardening and pulsing inside her. And when Kurt gasped, a moan escaping him as he too found his release.

  But that was all she could handle, until her body took over, regained control from Andrei, and pushed her over the edge into an oblivion that was tinged with the bright glitter of stars.

  Five

  Flicking the switch in his dark study, Sean jumped a little at the sight of Andrei who had his head tilted back against the corner wing of the club chair in front of Sean’s desk.

  He was relaxed, at ease, Sean thought, but there had to be something wrong for him to be sitting in the dark, alone, as he waited for Sean to return home.

  When the light flared on, he didn’t open his eyes fully, just slitted them to stare at him.

  “What’s wrong?” Sean asked, curious now. And
rei wasn’t necessarily a talker, but he usually sought Sean out when there was something going on with him.

  As far as he was aware, the only thing that could be at the moment was Sascha.

  She’d been restless these past few weeks. On edge? He knew she was content with her position here and could only assume her restlessness stemmed from being on edge around them. Thus far, they’d decided to wait her out. To see if she truly meant it when she spoke of them sharing her. Of course, not that she phrased it like that, but it’s what it boiled down to.

  “Sascha and I…”

  Sean cocked a brow, then as realization struck at Andrei’s continued silence, he blew out a breath, rounded his desk, and sank heavily into his wide leather desk chair.

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” Only between them would that question make sense.

  What man would turn a willing woman down, after all?

  But in this, there was so much more going on, so much more at stake.

  “She was flirting with me, and then being quite serious. I asked her what she thought she’d achieve from being with us in that way, and her explanations… they were as serious as her mood at that moment.

  “She wants to be with us, Sean,” he finished, his words soft but his tone heavy.

  “Why do you look like someone just told you your dog has died then?” Confusion filtered through his words. That she wanted them, that Andrei believed her, was something to celebrate, wasn’t it?

  “Because she could hurt us,” Andrei confessed thickly, his eyes somber and bleak.

  “They all hurt us,” Sean told him matter-of-factly.

  It was sad but true. Every time they’d done this, had tried, it had blown up in their faces. It was why he’d told them he refused to try again, but with Sascha and Devon getting on so well, then her fitting in like she was made for them… it had been hard not to get excited. He’d held back, intent on playing a waiting game. Desperate to see if she’d stay the course before they got involved. Because, when the women grew bored, the men were devastated when they left.

 

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