Rich truly cared about this young woman whom he’d never even met, a young woman for whom he felt responsible simply because her name was on his class list. The depth of his caring for a total stranger was more than laudable.
Iris couldn’t help compare that sense of responsibility to her own background. From the time she was old enough, she was a resource to her mother—a babysitter, almost a partner in the parenting of Iris’s younger siblings. Then, as soon as she graduated high school, she’d gone to work, turning practically all of her paycheck over to her mother, to help house and feed them all. And she’d been happy to do so.
And then the minute her mother no longer needed her—as soon as Doreen Gibbs had married Tom Carson—she’d walked away from Iris without a backward glance. Where was the responsibility for her? Where was the caring for her?
“You’ll get to the bottom of what’s going on.” Emotions were roiling within her, and she wasn’t certain why, but she needed, more than anything, to let Rich know how special she thought he was—and how lucky she felt that he cared about her. “You’ll get to the bottom of it, and if that young woman’s in trouble, you’ll help her.”
“Iris? Baby? Why are you crying?” Rich still had hold of her hand. His thumb stroked her, the gesture as gentle as his words had been.
“What?” Iris didn’t understand, but when she raised her fingers to her face, they came away wet. For a long moment she just stared at her tear-covered fingers. Then she looked up and into the sweetest, most loving expression she’d ever seen directed at her.
“You care. Not because it will get you something, not as a carrot for your own ends. You just care. That is something so beautiful. Do you know how beautiful a thing that is? How precious a gift for the person who receives that from you? So many people only care about themselves. They don’t know how to love, not really, they just…use. They use others, and when they don’t need someone anymore, they just toss them aside without a single thought to what that does to them. To the pain…” The sob erupted from some dark place deep inside Iris, a place she hadn’t really known was there. The first one, sharp and jagged, was a shard torn off under the pressure of revelation. And then another and another and another. She couldn’t stop it, and she certainly couldn’t control it. She could only try to survive it.
She needn’t have worried. Rich scooped her into his arms and brought her onto his lap. Then he wrapped himself around her and held on, as if by the sheer force of his will he could take her pain into himself and keep her from shattering into a million tiny pieces.
* * * *
They’d brought her here to this enormous bed and allowed her the healing balm of a good, solid cry, something she’d heard of but had never believed in until now.
Surrounded by warmth, Iris could only sigh and snuggle deeper. Her sobs had taken a while to taper off. Maybe Rich was right and they’d been waiting a very long time to come to the surface.
She should feel a lot more embarrassed than she did. Why didn’t she? “I’ve never been a crier. I couldn’t see the point in tears.”
“Were you made to feel that you had no right to feel sorry for yourself?” Donny asked.
It continually astounded her how much insight these two men had into what, to her, had always been…well, mysteries. Donny was pressed against her back while she laid her head on Rich’s chest.
“Yes, I was. My mother could be ruthless if she thought I felt sorry for myself. She used to tell me that life took cruel turns and all you could do was put your head down, dig in, and get on with it. That even with all the stuff that went wrong for us, we were still pretty damn lucky to have as much as we had.” Iris knew she could tell Rich and Donny anything, and it would be okay. “After they moved to Austin, little by little, I began to feel differently about…everything. Just before I met you, I’d come to the conclusion that the only person, in Mother’s estimation, who had a right to self-pity was herself.”
Neither man said anything for a long time, but she bet they were doing that thing they often did, when they looked at each other and communicated without words.
“The truth is usually in there somewhere,” Rich said. “Maybe your mother deliberately used you and then just walked away from you. Or maybe in leaving you on your own, she believed she was finally giving you your freedom. It could be she hated having to use you as a resource for as long as she did. So when the chance arose, she chose to let you go so you could have a fresh start and finally have your own life.”
“I honestly don’t know which of those two scenarios is the right one. Maybe in time, I’ll be able to tell.”
“I’ve found that time and distance, together, can work wonders to put things into perspective.” Donny placed a kiss on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry I fell apart like that.” Iris exhaled and then turned onto her back. She liked, a lot, that Rich and Donny adjusted their positions on the bed so that they were looking down at her because that made it very easy for her to see them both at the same time.
“I’m sorry you’ve felt that kind of pain,” Rich said. “But how could I be sorry that you broke down? More than anything, your doing that shows us that you feel safe with us, that you trust us with your emotions, with what’s at the heart of your soul.”
“That’s the ultimate level of trust,” Donny said. “You let us see you emotionally naked.”
“I do trust you—I trust you both. I know that I haven’t known you for very long, but it feels as if we’ve been together forever and always.” It was more than she’d consciously thought to say, but Iris did trust them. Her words, her thoughts, her heart, they were all safe with these two Kendalls.
“That means everything to us.” Rich stroked the side of her face and then lowered his head.
Needing him, wanting him, Iris lifted her mouth. When his lips covered hers, when his tongue stroked the seam of her lips, she opened to him and simply surrendered.
Wet and wonderful, his flavor filled her, and his passion ignited her own. She returned his kiss with all she had, loving the sensation of his lips sliding against hers, of his tongue dominating hers. He lifted his head far too soon. Donny gently turned her face toward him. She lifted, he descended, and once more, she fell into the bliss of kissing a man she loved. His tiny suctioning motions drew her arousal up and up and up. His tongue drank from her, even as she gulped him down.
Rich tossed the covers aside then kissed his way down her body. No words were needed between them. Comfort and caring turned carnal in a heartbeat, and Iris wouldn’t have it any other way. She needed what these men could give her and needed to give what they both demanded.
When Rich moved between her thighs, she opened to him, trembling with those first fiery licks of her pussy. When Donny gained his knees and moved toward her head, she opened her mouth to receive his cock.
Giving and taking, Iris soared. With each shivery zap of lust Rich lapped against her, she sucked Donny in, using her tongue to stroke his shaft. The sensation of his balls in her hand—hot, vibrant—just added to her arousal.
Donny’s shivers fed her feminine confidence, and Rich’s tonguing of her channel and clit fed the fire within.
“So damn good.” As if scripted, the words in stereo could have been a vow. The vibration against her wet folds and the accompanying combing of fingers in her hair before they grasped tight combined to push her to the very edge.
“Come for us.” Rich’s command, given against her pussy, snapped what little control she possessed.
As the first wave of her climax washed over her, she drank down Donny’s first spurt, sucking deeply to draw his essence into herself. Pushing her pussy against Rich’s hungry mouth, she fed him all she was in turn. Spasm after spasm, taking, giving, healed her and made her whole.
Donny stroked the side of her face, a silent signal. In response, Iris opened her mouth, releasing his cock.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Donny laid his lips on hers, his kiss gentle. Then he moved bac
k slightly, stretching out on the bed with inches between them, making room for his brother.
Rich crawled up her body, not stopping until his chest was on her chest and his cock was deep inside her cunt.
He wrapped his arms around her, beneath her shoulders and ass, and she wound herself around him. Their mouths met, and the erotic taste of her juice on him, with him, rekindled her fires. Greedy, needy, she returned his fucking motions thrust for thrust. No rhythm, no scripting here. Just raw, naked fucking that consumed them both. The sudden wet heat spewing into her womb triggered her own rapture.
Iris held on tight, giving Rich all she was as a woman. They held each other close through the most vulnerable moment either of them could ever have—that orgasmic surrender to the cataclysm of ecstasy.
Chapter 17
Lying flat with one lover nestled in the cradle of her body and the other one so close he was kissing her shoulder was a wondrous, miraculous thing. She’d never felt more whole. Iris Gibbs was a woman to be reckoned with, one who could satisfy not just one lover but two. She’d been riddled with insecurity for most of her life, had felt as if she’d been abandoned since she’d been a child, left to fill the roles of parent and provider long before she ever should have.
In the aftermath of her family moving away, she hadn’t liked who she’d become, particularly. Feeling adrift and needy without knowing what she needed, she’d had no real idea where she was going in life. When things got tough—when she’d found herself unemployed and felt as if the walls were closing in on her—there’d been no one, absolutely no one, she could turn to for help or solace or just to reveal her fears and insecurity.
That was all different now.
Rich lifted his head, his smile so full of…of love. Did they love her? Could they love her? In that moment she prayed for that as she hadn’t prayed for anything in her life before.
“You look very pleased with yourself,” Rich said.
She felt the blush color her cheeks. “I can’t help it.” He’d already taken the bulk of his weight onto his arms, but she liked this, this moment of giving him a place to rest.
“I didn’t use a condom. I’ve been tested—we both have. We should have talked about this before I lost myself inside you.”
“I’m on the pill to regulate my cycle,” Iris said. “And you’re the first man to ever be naked inside me.” Then, because she couldn’t not be completely honest, she said, “I liked it, a lot.”
“Good.” He kissed her. “We’ll wear condoms when we’re in your ass, but only then.”
“Yes, only then.”
Donny stroked her face, and she turned to look at him. She knew he’d be content with just this—the quiet affection between them. She needed more, and wasn’t it a miracle she could ask for more? In light of what Rich had just said, she knew exactly what she wanted.
“I need you. I need to feel your cock in my ass.” She knew they weren’t keeping score, but the heart of her needed to show these two men that she craved them equally.
“Sweetheart, you have no idea how much I need that, too.” He kissed her lips, a light and flirty kiss. “I also want to see you sucking off my brother. So why don’t you do that little thing while I get the lube and a condom?”
“Yes, why don’t I?” She didn’t have to ask if Rich would be up for another orgasm. He was already more than halfway there. She felt daring and naughty when she pushed on his shoulders. Of course, she didn’t move him. She knew that. If he hadn’t wanted to give her what she suddenly needed to take, there would have been no moving him at all.
But just as Donny responded without hesitation when Rich commanded her, so Rich returned the favor. She nearly giggled when Rich switched their positions.
His cock slipped out of her body, and she took one moment to rub her wet pussy against that reanimated part of him. She stretched up and kissed him, the same kind of sweet kiss he’d given her. Then she kissed a path down his body.
She shivered at the sensation of his cock against her flesh, from hips to abdomen to breasts. The scent of sex—their mixed fluids, perspiration, and the remnant of rapture—teased her like no exotic perfume ever could.
She nuzzled his cock, her hunger for him immediate, her courage, her daring to do what she’d been told to do, adding to her arousal. She fisted him, the damp flesh growing turgid, the increased heat pulsing that sweet aroma to her so that all she had to do was inhale, draw it in, to awaken her hormones.
The taste of her pussy on his cock became her newest dark delight. As she licked, as she nuzzled, and, finally, as she drew his cock into her mouth, the words vanilla no more echoed in her thoughts.
Iris wanted to crow in triumph.
Salty, savory, and with more than a hint of debauchery, Iris drew his cock in, her tongue stroking his shaft while her mouth suckled his cockhead.
Rich’s fingers combed through her hair then gripped. “You have such a dirty little mouth, my little subbie. I love it.” Words that might have shamed her in the past warmed her heart and fed her arousal. His hissing intake of breath became a sweet and coveted reward. She cupped his balls, squeezing gently. She felt them grow and harden.
Cold gel on hot fingers pressed between the cheeks of her bottom, finding and coating her anus. Back and forth and then gently pushing, pushing, until her sphincter gave way and first one and then a second finger entered her. The familiar burn sent little sizzling shocks to every part of her body. Inside her back channel, those fingers moved, in and out and around and around. Then Donny added a third finger. The burn, edging toward pain, made her clit throb and her nipples peak.
Then those fingers eased out of her. “Release Rich’s cock for a moment.”
Iris obeyed the command but kept her fist on his cock, kept pumping him in a slow and steady beat. Suddenly inspired, she began to lick his balls. As Donny positioned himself on the bed behind her, as he lifted her hips to better position her, Iris sucked Rich’s balls into her mouth and then let them slide out again.
“Fuck yeah.” Rich’s hips shoved his cock into her grasp.
Heat rested against her rosebud as Donny touched his latex-covered cock to her opening. Then he began to push forward, a slow, steady, and solid pressure as he fed his cock into her ass.
“So good and tight.” Donny kept pressing until he was all the way in, until she felt his scrotum brush the bottom of her slit.
Iris inhaled deeply, drawing in the scent of sex, letting that oxygen embrace the stretching pain of her lover’s cock in her ass. She wanted to do so much, but mostly she wanted to wait on what he wanted.
“I’m not going to last, Iris. Get back to work on Rich. Let’s see if we can all come together.”
Thought evaporated, cares disintegrated as Iris became a vessel, a willing vessel to her two Doms. She shivered and sucked, she pushed her hips back slightly, but mostly she reveled in being the woman these two virile men wanted and needed. All of her senses worked together—the feel of her ass being filled, the hot meat in her mouth, the grip of hands on her hips. The grip of fingers in her head, two hands now as Rich neared his orgasm, as he held on tight and began to thrust. Ceding control, she used her lips to hold his thrusting cock, marveling that simple action triggered her own arousal to begin a lusty, upward spiral.
Ecstasy flowed over and through her as both men peaked, as she sucked down Rich’s cum and felt the heat of Donny’s fill the condom in her ass. And with each pulsing ejaculation of the cocks within her, her orgasm flowed, a steady, beating flood of the most astounding pleasure she’d ever known.
This was more than sex. This was even more than loving. This was destiny. It was her destiny, and Iris embraced it with every fiber of her being.
* * * *
There’s tighter security here than at the airport.
Ramon Estevez, completely submerged in his role as a Dom in search of the perfect slave, accepted a bottle of Perrier from the passing waiter. His cell phone—a burner phone that would reveal noth
ing and that he would destroy as soon as he left the premises—was in a clear plastic bag on a shelf by the entrance. He’d left his FBI issued Glock .23 behind in his vehicle. If the second set of shelves holding guns tagged in the same way as the cell phones was any indication, a lot of people had felt compelled to bring protection of the nine-millimeter variety. Ramon had also been patted down and scanned, assuring the hosts for this evening’s entertainment he was neither wired nor carried any other electronic gadgets on him that could be used against them.
Ramon was betting his life he could handle any situation that arose over the next hour or so without the use of firepower or backup.
From all he knew so far, Sergio Torres fit nearly every point the profilers had listed for the unknown man newly at the head of the Los Principes. Until recently the gang had been relatively small, though not quite harmless, and active mostly in the Lone Star State.
It would be a bonus if everything played into Ramon’s hands tonight, if Torres was the man in charge of that organization, and if he could catch him with a truck load of young Latinas ready to be sold to the highest bidder, and if he could find evidence to prove that he was, in fact, the bastard who’d kidnapped and murdered his sister, Maria. But Ramon had believed himself close before, and so he knew not to count anything as success until it happened.
Ramon had been invited to one auction. He would likely be invited to another. His understanding was they occurred about once a month. That would give his team plenty of time to figure out a way to circumvent the security setup Torres used.
In the meantime, he had sufficient means to “acquire” a piece of the merchandise being offered up for sale. Christopher had told him to feel free to use the prepaid card he’d given him, the same one that a representative of his host had also checked upon his admittance, to assure its validity.
Participating in this auction might be the most expedient way to secure the best possible evidence—an actual victim of the vicious gang—and to solidify his cover.
Love Under Two Loners [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 15