Hers To Keep: THE QUINTESSENCE COLLECTION I

by Akeroyd, Serena

  “Bastard,” she hissed, then hissed again when his hand finally slid down between her legs. His fingers dove straight for her clit, and when instinct had her rolling her pelvis forward, he immediately pulled away.

  “What did I tell you?” he demanded.

  Panting because he’d taken her far closer with those few touches than was good for her sanity, she whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m trying. I promise.”

  He grumbled, but her apology must have worked, because he returned to her, giving her what she needed. Sharp cries escaped her as he worked her clit as she’d done moments before. His observational talents came in handy from time to time it seemed. Hard and fast, he frigged the nub. A low hum seemed to buzz around the insides of her skull, and with a hoarse yell, she came.

  Like that. As quick as you like, and as unexpected as fuck.

  It rammed her in the belly like a freight train, and only the promise of losing his cock had her managing to stay still. She wasn’t sure what the miracle was here. The fact she’d climaxed so quickly or managed to do so without moving.

  Truth was, the fact she couldn’t move, intensified the sensation. It felt like an A bomb had exploded inside her core, and before she could do little more than moan with delight, his cock was there. He ran the tip along her slit, lubing it up with ease—fuck, she was so wet. The noises the rubbing made should have embarrassed the fuck out of her, but it didn’t.

  She fucking loved it.

  “I’m clean,” he told her softly, whispering the words into her ear.

  “Me too. On the pill as well,” she replied, excitement thrusting her into another fucking realm, because she wanted him inside her so damn badly, she thought she’d go nuts.

  He grunted at her words. “Good.” He nipped at the earlobe, then with one hand on her tit, which he squeezed, before finally trailing his fingers to her nipple and teasing the nub. Pinching it, he notched his cock against her gate, and slowly, carefully pressed into her.

  He was thick. Hard. Big. So big.

  Apparently, to be a part of this household, you needed huge cocks, because she’d seen three so far, felt Sean’s, and they were all a lot bigger than average.

  Her eyelashes fluttered as his cock thrust against her sensitive walls, raking nerve endings to life in a way that had her nuzzling her face into the pillow and biting down against the feathers inside.

  She let out a sharp moan as he bottomed out, her butt touching his belly. With a final squeeze to her greased-up nipple, he rubbed a path down to her pussy and pressing a hand between her legs, putting a distinct pressure on her clit, he held her against him.

  His thrusts, when he moved, were agonizing in their speed.

  Slow. So fucking slow it almost hurt.

  Deep, so goddamn deep she wanted to sob.

  It was intense. More intense than she’d ever thought possible. It was the hottest fucking she’d ever had because it felt more like making love.

  “I wish I could see your eyes,” she whimpered, ceasing to bite down on the pillow to whisper that to him.

  He grunted. “Another time, lass.” Pressing his lips to her throat, he began to suckle the skin there. Later, she knew she’d curse him for marking her because no amount of foundation ever hid a hickey, but then and there? It fit. She needed him to mark her. Inside and out.

  It took all she had not to move, to rock her hips to encourage him to speed up, but the threat of losing that delicious fullness, of losing him, had her staying in place. She was well aware that this was for her. All for her.

  No man wanted to go this slow. He practically trembled with tension at keeping still while working his cock into her. It was heaven for her though. She trembled with the intensity, and with the pressure on her clit working against her, she could feel an orgasm coming again.

  It tightened her inner muscles in a way that had Sawyer hissing, “That’s it, lass, give it to me. Give yourself to me.”

  With a groan, she focused on the hazy goal ahead of her. He tilted up, rocking into her a little swifter, and a hoarse cry escaped her this time as the haziness disappeared and was replaced with a fully formed ‘finish line’.

  The cry turned into a shriek as he cursed under his breath, his fingers biting into her hips, as he groaned out his own release against her throat.

  Feeling his cum deep inside her should not have been as big a turn on as it was, but it didn’t matter. His release rammed hers into the stratosphere. The slickness deep inside her facilitated his final, deep, wet thrusts, and she knew that the stars she was seeing were ones she’d gladly visit time and time again with this man as her tour guide.

  * * *

  “Should you really have done that?”

  Devon’s voice woke her up, and with bleary eyes, she peered at him. He was backlit by the windows and perched on the side of the bed like he’d joined them at the dining table, not on a mattress where sex had recently just been had.

  Plus, she was naked. Sawyer too. Yet he was sitting there, scowling at them, like they’d met up at the park or something.

  Odd thing was, she had no desire to hide her nakedness from him. There was little point.

  Sometime in the future, he would see her like this. His cock would be nestling between her asscheeks as Sawyer’s was. Why hide from what was going to happen anyway?

  She squinted. “Why shouldn’t I?”

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” he told her with a huff.

  Watching as he sank back against the only pillow not being used to support her, then lifted his legs and crossed his feet at the ankles damn close to her boobs, she murmured, “Sawyer’s asleep.”

  “No, he’s not,” came the grumble, and his brogue was so thick at that moment, her exhausted pussy fluttered to life once more. “He was, until someone interrupted.”

  His yawn stirred the hairs at the back of her neck, and the intimate touch made her smile. “My head isn’t aching,” she told them both, her intention to reassure Sawyer, as well as to inform Devon that she was okay, and that there was no reason to blame Sawyer for any of this. “Plus, I wanted it.”

  “And what you want you always get?” Devon asked, sounding curious.

  She grinned. “Not usually, but I have a feeling that’s how this is going to work here.”

  Sawyer chuckled. “Probably. You’ll get spoiled.”

  “Spoiled? That’s bad, isn’t it?” Devon asked, rubbing his chin in contemplation.

  “It can be,” she answered, nestling her forehead into the feathers of the plush cushion Sawyer had stacked there earlier. “I won’t let it go to my head though,” she teased.

  “Janna was spoiled,” Devon said, his tone reflective.

  “Aye, she was. She was also petulant and a pain in the ass who didn’t have a sense of humor. Fine tits on her, mind.” He nipped Sascha’s shoulder. “Not as fine as these beauties though,” he told her, squeezing her boob as he spoke.

  She snorted. “Thanks for the backhanded compliment.”

  Sawyer chuckled again. “You’ll get used to that too, don’t worry. You can’t help it with him around. Also, get used to inappropriate conversations. Like talking about exes in front of the new lady in your life, while your best friend’s cum is still leaking out of her.”

  She blinked. “Ewww.” Though her cheeks grew pink, she’d admit to liking his crudeness.

  Sawyer was very raw. She liked that. It made her feel very feminine at his side.

  The human psyche was all kinds of fucked up, she realized with an inner snort of disgust at herself.

  Devon shrugged. “Better out than in.”

  “What? His cum or are you talking about the inappropriate conversation?”

  Sawyer’s chuckle deepened into a rough laugh. “She’s got you there, Dev.”

  The man in question just frowned. “I suppose both.” Another chin rub. “Although, if I was to seduce you now, it would probably feel like heaven.”

  “Devon likes sloppy seconds, don’t you, bud?” Saw
yer asked, sounding very affectionate.

  “Okay, that’s weird,” she confessed with an eye roll.

  Devon grinned, apparently liking that she was squicked out. “It’s not weird at all. You’ll see.”

  “Oh, I will, will I?”

  “Can’t be helped with him around,” Sawyer mumbled, sounding like he was dropping off to sleep once more. Then, he stilled. “You meant it before?”

  “Meant what?” she asked, a little alarmed by his stillness.

  “About your head? Your arm?”

  Ah, that. She purred, “I feel like a new woman.”

  “Literally, an impossibility,” Devon instantly countered.

  Sawyer ignored him and leaned up so he could look over her shoulder and see some of her face. “Promise?”

  “Promise. I’ll pinky swear if it makes you feel better,” she joked.

  He rolled his eyes. “I can do without it. You should get some sleep,” he advised as he settled behind her again. “You’ll need it for tonight.”

  As bright as can be, Devon inserted, “Oh, you don’t have to go out now, Sascha. That’s why I came looking for you. The gala’s been rescheduled.”

  She blinked blearily at him. “It has? Why?”

  With his gaze fastened to her breasts, he reached forward and flicked the tip of her nipple. Studying it as the bud tautened, he murmured, “What?”

  She smacked his hand away and tried not to be amused. “Devon! Focus.”

  “On what?” he asked.

  “For God’s sake, Dev, why the hell has the gala been rescheduled?” Sawyer demanded, the words whispering against the back of Sascha’s neck. That little stimulus and Dev’s focus on her body had her heating up inside, and she really couldn’t go for round two.

  Even if her pussy was all for it.

  Before she could even contemplate what it would be like to be in a Devon and Sawyer sandwich, before she could even wonder what the hell had happened to her where such an idea made her melt instead of scandalizing her, Devon shattered her arousal with a single, blunt statement:

  “The venue was blown up.”

  Nine

  “Do they know who did it?” Kurt demanded, pinning Sean in place with a glare that wasn’t aimed at his friend, but the fuckers behind the explosion. “Do they know why?”

  “No. But I’ve heard leaks that it went off earlier than it was programmed to. They don’t know why yet.”

  “You mean it should have gone off when the gala was on?”

  Sean’s tone was gruff as he admitted, “Maybe. Like I said, it’s just chatter I’ve heard.” He looked at his watch. “The Chief Commissioner has asked me to attend a meeting in twenty minutes. I need to go if I’m going to get there on time.”

  Kurt grimaced. “Keep us updated.”

  Before Sean could even move out of his chair, the door slammed open, hitting into the back wall. “A bomb?”

  Sascha’s squeak had him wincing, but her terror was plain to see.

  Sean nodded grimly.

  “How many people were hurt?” Sawyer demanded from behind her.

  Kurt’s eyes widened as he realized they were looking rather rumpled. Had they just fucked?

  No, surely not. Not with Sascha’s head as delicate as it was?

  The thought had him glowering at Sawyer, whose nostrils flared as he ducked his head with guilt.

  “Numbers are still coming in. So far, it’s staff caught in the blast. They were organizing everything for the gala tonight,” Sean murmured. “But I have to go. I’m needed in a meeting.”

  “About this?”

  Sean nodded at Sawyer’s question. “The Commissioner said he needed my help on this one.”

  “Why? There have been terror attacks before and you weren’t called in.”

  His shrug said it all, but the uneasy look on Sean’s face caught Kurt’s attention. “They don’t think it was the usual suspects,” he stated rather than asked.

  Sean grimaced. “You’re too perceptive by half, Kurt,” he grumbled. “They don’t know, but the chatter says not.”

  “Chatter? What chatter?” Sascha asked, scowling and leaning back into Sawyer as though needing his support. Sawyer’s hands came up to cup her shoulders; a move that caught both his and Sean’s attention.

  Of them all, Sawyer was the least affectionate. Though Janna, their first shared lover, had hurt each of them, she’d hurt Sawyer the worst.

  He’d never trusted any of the other women in their life since, and that lack of trust came in the shape of only fucking them, only touching them when it boiled down to sex. Nothing more, nothing less.

  Clearing his throat to shake off his surprise, Kurt murmured, “Sean has a lot of fingers in a lot of pies.”

  “It helps when it comes to situations like this one.”

  She lifted a shaky hand and rubbed her forehead. “Okay. Where’s Andrei? I know he wasn’t there, but does he know about this?”

  Kurt shook his head. “I doubt it. He’s been in a meeting since eleven. Locked down.”

  “Locked down? Why?” Sascha held up a hand. “Let me guess. He was talking to some Chancellor or Minister or somebody.”

  Sean’s lips twitched. “You’re dealing with a different sort of person now, Sascha. We’re not builders or bakers.”

  “Last time I looked, I wasn’t a candlestick maker either,” Sawyer quipped, and Devon, at his back, and Sean, immediately chuckled.

  Sascha scowled. “You think this is funny.”

  “No, of course not,” Sean placated. “It’s just a saying. Butcher, baker, candlestick maker.”

  “What does that have to do with any of this?” she demanded, settling deeper against Sawyer.

  Kurt, noticing this, murmured, “You should be in bed.” Before she could argue, he moved toward her, bent down, and carefully swept her into his arms. She moaned a little but nestled into him as he carried her over to one of the many armchairs in Sean’s study. Sinking into it, he let her rest against him.

  “Thank you,” she whispered weakly, pressing her forehead against his shoulder.

  He couldn’t stop himself from pressing a kiss to her temple. “You looked shaky.”

  “I was. This is all so much.”

  She looked ridiculously frail in his arms, and when he looked up, he saw Sean, Devon, and Sawyer were all staring at her with concern.

  “Maybe you should go to bed, Sha. You probably need the rest.”

  Peering at Sean through her lashes, she grinned. “Sha?”

  He winked. “You ready for me to call you ‘honey’?”

  “I think I’d prefer that to Sha.” She wrinkled her nose, then lifting her hand, she mocked him by holding her chin in her fingers, in a total Sherlock Holmes pose, and murmured, “Although, you might be able to persuade me.”

  He barked out a laugh. “If anyone could, I’m sure it’s me.”

  Kurt smirked. “Speak for yourself. I’m the wordsmith here.”

  Sawyer hooted. “If you can get him to talk about his feelings, Sascha, then you’re a miracle worker. You think I’m reticent? Jesus, the man’s more sewed up than a Cabbage Patch Doll.”

  Ignoring the eye roll Sawyer sent his way, he pressed back into the armchair more. She was a comfortable armful, he’d have to admit, and the way she’d cuddled into him, he wanted to enjoy it.

  Devon moved away from the doorway and came to squat down in front of the armchair. He leaned against Kurt’s legs as he raised his knees, then rested his arms on them. The move had his head pressing against Sascha’s calves, and at the touch, she reached down and hesitantly ran her hand through his hair.

  “Is this a private love in? Or is anyone invited?” Sean asked, apparently amused at the tableau before him.

  Kurt grinned for the sheer joy of just being fucking happy. At that moment, he really was.

  Sascha was in his arms, at peace and comfortable enough with him to melt into his embrace. One of his best buds was at his side, and another two were i
n the same room, under the same roof.

  Trouble was always around the corner. Whether it was this issue with Andrei or Katrin’s money problems… With five people in a house, each with their own circle of friends and family, strife often knocked at their door.

  Even as solitary as they were, unsociable to boot, people still waited in the wings.

  Devon, of course, murmured, “Love in? I think she’s too tired after doing the nasty with Sawyer.”

  Sascha snickered. “Who said it was nasty?” To Sawyer, sweet as pie, she told him, “I thought it was very nice.”

  Kurt watched on in amusement as Sawyer cocked a brow, folded his arms across his bare chest, and leaning against the doorway, murmured, “I wasn’t doing it right if it was nice, lass.”

  Her snicker turned into a laugh. “Well, you did have certain parameters to work within.”

  “He’s very good with direction, isn’t he?” Devon added conversationally.

  Sawyer’s eyes widened. “Jesus, Devon. Keep your trap shut.”

  Sean swiveled in his chair to better look at Sawyer, who was blushing in the doorway. Surprised, he murmured, “Since when were you good with direction?”

  If he’d been wearing a shirt with a collar, Kurt knew Sawyer would have tugged at its choking confines. As it was, his glower darkened. “Devon’s heading up the project we’re working on.”

  Sean snorted. “Yeah. Sell me another one.”

  Sascha, apparently taking pity on him, changed the subject by asking, “When’s Andrei coming home?”

  “When he’s out of the meeting,” Sean immediately answered, but his gaze was still pinned on their discomforted friend.

  “I swear. You guys are so literal sometimes. When will that be?”

  He blinked. “Six? Seven?”

  “Seriously? He scheduled that meeting when we had to be at the gala at eight?”

  Kurt laughed. “We don’t primp, Sascha. Ten minutes, and we’re usually ready.”

  She scoffed. “It’s a gala! You have to primp.”