Hers To Keep: THE QUINTESSENCE COLLECTION I

by Akeroyd, Serena

  “A veritable one,” Devon retorted, grinning wickedly at the tableau in front of him.

  Before she could pass out at whatever moves Sawyer was working on her as he swiveled his hips, Devon stepped forward. “I know a way to shut her up, Sawyer,” he pointed out, his cock in his hand.

  She peered up at him with a glower. “And what makes you think that will work?”

  Devon licked his lips and pressed forward, not stopping until his cock was against her mouth. He painted her Cupid’s bow with pre-cum, and crooned, “Taste me, sweetheart.”

  “Oh fuck,” Kurt whispered. “She looks like a fucking dream.”

  His accent was thick again, so cloying that Devon realized how far gone Kurt was, but he didn’t spare him much attention. Just focused on Sascha. On her gimlet stare as she looked into his eyes, fighting his will.

  She didn’t open her mouth, just looked at him, until finally, she let her tongue peep out and she licked the cum he’d painted on her.

  She shivered, but his body clenched down in response to the gentle touch of tongue to lip, his form reacting like she’d stroked his cock from tip to base. Then, like she was at the end of her tether, she reached forward, grabbed his ass and jerked him closer.

  Her mouth swallowed him. Well, as much as she was able. He was big, her mouth was small. Still, she slurped him down with as much skill as Kurt had shown on her—none.

  This wasn’t about skill.

  This was about hunger.

  A rabid hunger.

  She was starved for him, and he felt it in every swirling lick of her tongue around his glans, with every hard suck and fierce swallow.

  His head fell back as she sucked him down, giving him everything she had. Then, he felt a cock nudge against his own. He jolted, peering to the side to see Kurt was taking part.

  He almost jumped in surprise, because Kurt had a habit of staying out of scenes like this. It was probably a testament to how she fucked with his control, and fucked with his mind, that Kurt was taking part at all.

  He usually watched from the sidelines, a hungry zeal to his gaze as he jacked off.

  Devon didn’t get it. He never had. Kurt got more out of wanking than he did fucking... still, Devon never tried to understand his friends’ quirks.

  Each to their own, he always figured. He loved sharing a woman. Always had. With Sawyer and Andrei, and Kurt watching.

  Sean never got involved. Andrei less, but him and Sawyer had shared a lot. Until the whole ‘ball brushing’ incident had stopped that in its tracks.

  He was too turned on to roll his eyes, but he groaned when a soft hand grabbed his cock and Kurt’s, pressed them tightly together before Sascha then attempted to slurp the crowns into her mouth.

  He shuddered, his hands turning into fists as he bit off, “Jesus Christ, that feels good.”

  They never touched each other sexually. If they did, case in point with Sawyer, they usually freaked out. But trust Sascha to break down their boundaries without even a second’s thought.

  “Fuck,” Kurt said, and it seemed he was stuck on repeat as he kept on saying the word over and over. It became thicker as she let go of their shafts, and reached up to tug at their balls, cupping the heavy sacks, rolling them in her palm.

  Then, she did the damnedest thing. Burrowed further down, stroked his perineum.

  Tensing at her touch, on the brink of refusing her advance, Kurt bit off a flurry of German so fast that in Devon’s dazed state, he couldn’t understand him.

  Whatever it was, he realized she was touching Kurt in the exact same way she was touching Devon.

  Her finger rubbed his asshole, gently, lightly. Then she pierced the clenched muscle with just the tip.

  He grabbed a hold of his cock unable to help it as cum spewed out of his shaft. He jacked off, not stopping until every ounce of seed had been released from his body.

  Then, he realized what he’d done and looked down at her.

  She was as stunned as he was. But he’d acted on instinct. Nothing but a blind haze of need and lust and arousal swimming around his system.

  “Oh hell,” he groaned as he saw her, cum dotted on her face, her mouth and lips and jaw covered in it. It had sunk onto her tits too, leaving glossy pools of seed there.

  He dropped to his knees and reached for her mouth, uncaring that she was covered in his cum, just loving the sight of her.

  So raw. So primal.

  So theirs.

  He shuddered as their tongues clashed and he tasted himself and Kurt on her lips. A load moan sounded to his left as he reached up and cupped her tits, rubbing his seed into her flesh. He felt the warm release as Kurt came too, onto Dev’s hands and Sascha’s breasts.

  Behind Sascha, Sawyer’s grunting breaths echoed around the room and his gentle rocks turning into heavy thrusts as he almost bounced her on his damn lap.

  Through it all, Devon kept a hold of her mouth, then slipped a hand down to her cunt, traced a finger through her folds before he captured her clit.

  With a few strokes, she was exactly how he wanted her...

  A goner.

  Thirty-Nine

  “Well, Ms. Dubois, I have some good news for you.”

  The doctor shot her a bland smile, and Sascha wondered if she remembered the time she’d been here with Andrei at her side. Or the last time with Sawyer and Devon acting as her guardians…

  They’d been quite pleasant to her, but Andrei hadn’t. He’d been stern with the doctor. In fact, he’d been rather rude. She wouldn’t have minded though. Better rudeness than being alone. Kurt had been in his writing cave all night, and she’d decided to leave him to his work and be a big girl by going to the doctors herself.

  She hated being a big girl sometimes.

  “You do?” Sascha answered the woman, shooting her an equally limp smile in return.

  “Yes. The scans came back clear. We didn’t miss anything during your stay in hospital. You had a nasty concussion, but you’re on the mend. And your cast can definitely come off today.”

  She blinked. “That is good news.” Sascha was about ready to hack the pot off her arm with a table knife. The itch… sweet Lord, it was worse than her memories of the chicken pox.

  “But the reason we called you back in sooner than scheduled is because the blood tests also show that you’re pregnant.” She gave a tight smile. “It would have been good to know there was a potential for pregnancy—we would have followed safety procedures while you were being X-rayed.”

  For a second, the world came to a halt. Everything screeched to a stop as the word ‘pregnant’ reverberated around her head like the doctor had spoken through a loudspeaker that was echoing like a yodeler in the middle of the Austrian Alps.

  “Pregnant?” she gasped, eyes flaring wide. “But I’m on the pill.” She clung to that statement like the lifeline it apparently wasn’t.

  “Yes. I’m afraid it failed you,” the woman said, not sounding afraid at all.

  In fact, the only person afraid here was Sascha.

  Pregnant? She couldn’t be. Could she?

  Well, she’d done a lot of stuff that usually helped make a baby. But…

  No.

  It couldn’t be… She couldn’t be.

  But the doctor seemed to think she was. And she went on and on in the same vein. Spewing a lot of words at Sascha, handing her booklets and brochures, telling her she had to schedule appointments, visit the nurse, do this, this, and this…

  Through it all, Sascha just sat there. Gawking. Delirious.

  Pregnant?

  There was a thing growing inside her?

  She gulped at the thought. Hell, this wasn’t Alien. The thing was a baby.

  And that baby was…

  Well, the baby had a potential pool of five fathers.

  She scratched her head. Who was the dad? In their household, did it matter? Or was it unimportant? Would they mind not knowing who the biological father was? Hell, would they mind being a dad period?
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br />   Andrei hadn’t, had he? Nor Kurt.

  Sean had told her how he and Kurt had worked together to try to make a go of things before Katrin had had an abortion. And Andrei was still hurting over that.

  Sean and Devon were dark, Andrei and Kurt blond, with Sawyer coming in as a redhead. If the child was a redhead too, then it was Sawyer’s, but blond or brunet? Hell, they’d never figure it out without a DNA test.

  “Ms. Dubois?”

  The doctor’s bark had her jolting in place. “Sorry?”

  “I was just saying, if you follow me we’ll remove your cast now.”

  She blinked, then woodenly got to her feet. Following the woman, she sat still as glass as they removed the cast on her arm, and she didn’t even have it in her to scratch the faintly damp skin—even though her arm had been itching her for the last two weeks.

  The doctor had told her she had options. Abortion, adoption… that was if she didn’t want the child.

  But she did, didn’t she?

  There was no reason not to.

  Sure, the baby wasn’t planned, but… abortion?

  No.

  With her free hand, she touched her stomach.

  This was a definite accident but it was her child, and even though she didn’t know who the father was, her baby would have more dads than it knew what to do with. And she was richer than a Saudi Sheikh, dammit. She had more money than she knew what to do with, so, if they all bailed on her, she wouldn’t be left destitute and unable to support herself. There was certainly no legitimate reason for her not to see this through.

  Being shell-shocked certainly wasn’t legitimate.

  Still feeling the same way, shell-shocked, a half-hour later, she staggered out to the front of the clinic where her taxi was waiting for her. The last five minutes had been a daze of appointments with everyone from the nurse to, she felt certain, the clinic’s janitor.

  She had more reminders to add to her phone calendar than an amnesia patient.

  She slipped into the backseat, the daze of shock upon her as they traveled through a gridlocked Paddington.

  Watching the world go by was almost impossible. Her brain was turned inward. Inward to the most intense revelation of her life.

  She was going to be a mother.

  * * *

  “Kurt?”

  Eyes flaring wide at the interruption, Kurt’s head reared back. It was too funny the way he responded to her gentle murmur of his name—like she’d fired a damn bullet at him or something.

  He took a second to blink, and she saw the haze of the blue light on his eyes from the computer, then he smiled. “Sascha.”

  The warmth imbued in that gentle curve of his mouth, in her name, had something settling deep inside her.

  Kurt was... She didn’t know what.

  These past few weeks she’d been trying to figure out the bond between them all. Trying to understand why it worked. Because if something this complicated felt simple, she figured it needed dissecting.

  Not that the guys felt that way, even with all their smarts, so maybe it was just an inherently female thing to do. To pick apart aspects of a relationship, to moon over some, and gnash one’s teeth over others.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, stretching his arms overhead, gifting her a rather delicious sight of his triceps tautening and bulking out his biceps.

  He was sexy in a professor way. Especially recently, when he’d just had to start wearing reading glasses as he worked.

  “I’m fine. I was worried about you,” she lied. She’d needed to see him. Sean, the most rational of her men, wasn’t around but Kurt, the second rational, was.

  She wasn’t ready to tell him the news. Wasn’t even going to tell him he’d forgotten about her appointment… She just needed to be with him. Needed to clarify some things. Things that were important now she was going to be a—cue gulp—mom.

  He frowned. “Why?”

  “You’ve been working for eight hours solid.” She shrugged. “You haven’t eaten or slept.”

  She’d been with him the night before and had felt him creep out around three AM.

  “You know not to worry,” he chided, sliding his chair back and getting to his feet. His strides were easy, languid as he moved toward her. When his hands cupped her face, he bowed his head and pressed their mouths together.

  She sighed into the gentle meeting of their lips, felt her own smile appear when he pressed his forehead to hers and his arms slid down to curve around her waist and haul her close.

  The hug was unexpected, but all the more pleasant for it. She knew he was almost asleep on his feet, and took advantage of the weakness to stay pressed close to him.

  He wasn’t that sleepy, his cock prodded her in the belly, but she knew he was comfortable too. The hard on more evolutionary than instinctive.

  A thought that had her chuckling.

  “Are you laughing at me?” he grumbled, turning his head to the side as he kissed her temple.

  “Maybe.” She rocked her hips. “You’re such a man. Dead on your feet but you can still manage an erection.”

  “A feat I’m very proud of,” he assured her, sounding so very, very German at that moment she wanted to snicker.

  “I wondered if you wanted to come and chill with me in the lounge.”

  He pulled back. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” And she was.

  Really.

  His eyes narrowed at her. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  She cleared her throat. “Nothing. I just thought it might be nice for you to relax a little before you crash into bed.”

  When she tried to pinpoint what exactly it was that Kurt brought to their dynamic, the only thing she could verbalize was a sense of ease.

  That didn’t sound too important, which was totally underselling him. That ease was more... Well, he didn’t judge.

  It was something she’d picked up on early on but hadn’t really let flourish in her mind.

  Most guys didn’t judge at first, but they changed. Morphed over time. Of course, her five were all very open-minded, but Kurt was the most at peace with himself. With his desires.

  She figured that was because he’d had longer to think he was a little weird in bed. Voyeurism wasn’t exactly the worst kink in the world, but she knew it had affected his marriage and when that had dissolved, his self-image had suffered.

  What had Sawyer told her?

  That’d he’d drowned himself in drink for a time?

  “Is this about the other day?” he asked softly, almost squinting at her as he peered her way.

  She bit her lip. That hadn’t been on her mind, not with thoughts of the baby front and center. Still, it did need discussing. “Maybe.”

  There was no need to pinpoint exactly what it was they were discussing.

  Having Devon and Kurt in her mouth, and Sawyer in her pussy, wasn’t exactly something they could forget.

  She could still feel the slip and slide of Devon’s fingers as he caressed her clit while Sawyer slammed into her.

  Even now, days later, her mouth watered in reaction and her cunt pulsed with need.

  God, she was hungry. So hungry for them. All the time.

  That was what concerned her.

  She was pregnant now—had been pregnant when that wicked foursome had happened. Moms shouldn’t have those kinds of desires. Should they? Or was that just being incredibly naïve? Pregnant woman could be horny too, right?

  Probably, she thought, answering her own worries and deciding to Google it later. But she’d never been in a gang bang before. Neither had she been pregnant. She figured she could be as naïve as she wanted.

  A shaky sigh escaped her, and he gently walked her forward to the low leather sofa he had in front of an old-fashioned fireplace. The grate wasn’t ready for firing up, but the iron gleamed like the night sky and the tiles around it were stark white in contrast.

  She peered into the empty hearth as he maneuvered her onto the sofa so she
was perched on his lap.

  He burrowed his face in her throat and settled his hands at her belly. The move, did he but know it, was surprisingly poignant considering the news she’d received less than two hours earlier.

  “Talk to me, Sascha. You know we’re supposed to share this kind of thing.”

  ‘Supposed to’ and this ‘kind of thing.’ The terminology had her wincing a little, then smiling at her own reaction.

  “I told Sawyer to call me a slut,” she whispered, the words bursting free.

  He stiffened, then immediately relaxed, like he blew out the tension with his exhalation. “Why did you do that?” He paused. “When?”

  She gulped. “You remember in the kitchen? With the wooden spoon?”

  “How could I forget?” he teased gently, but he squeezed her and nuzzled his jaw against her temple.

  His chin was stubbled, and the small gesture scratched, but at that moment, she felt so goddamn cherished, her throat choked.

  Was it stupid for her to feel this way? When this man, and the rest of her men, so obviously loved her?

  “Sascha?” Kurt prompted softly after a few.

  She thought nothing of it at the time, but after what happened the other day...

  “You feel like a slut,” he stated, tone bland.

  She flinched.

  “I said ‘you feel’ like a slut, Liebchen, not that you are one. Because you aren’t.”

  A breath escaped her. “I’m not.”

  “For us, you are. But we’re sluts for you, too,” he teased a little.

  “Why do I accept all this, Kurt?”

  “Why are you questioning it now?” She wished she could tell him, but she stuck with a half-truth instead.

  She needed to process being pregnant first before she revealed it to them. And that processing had her stress levels shooting through the roof: “Because I just had a foursome in two of my lovers’ office!”

  Her shriek and the fact she half-jumped off his lap had him shushing her. But, she didn’t want to slap him upside the head for such an offense. Instead, she let him soothe her by tugging her closer.