Secret Pleasure

by Lora Leigh

  With his free hand he cupped the curve of a breast, his thumb rolling over the pebble hardness of her nipple, the friction sending arcs of sensation scattering through her senses.

  “Shane…” As she arched into the caress her head fell back to the door, her breathing rough and uneven, then laced with a low, desperate moan as his lips covered the tight peak.

  He didn’t tease her gently. His mouth was ravenous, sucking the tip with hungry need as his tongue lashed at it, building on each sensation until she was mindless with the pleasure and the need for release.

  “That’s it; burn for me, ’Lyssa,” he groaned as his lips lifted from her breast, his hand releasing her wrists to join the other in sliding to the curves of her ass.

  Gripping the flesh, he lifted her to him, bringing a startled gasp from her lips. He moved only as far as it took to sit back on the sofa positioned near the door.

  “No bed, huh?” she gasped, gripping his shoulders when he released her to divest himself of his pants.

  “They’re overrated.” Gripping her hips, he moved her over the engorged length of his erection, groaning when the slick folds of her sex grazed the wide, blunt crest.

  “I can’t wait, ’Lyssa,” he groaned heavily. “Foreplay next time.”

  “Next time,” she agreed, feeling more of the slick moisture spilling from her as heavy pressure began parting the entrance.

  That pressure increased, parting the clenched flesh, easing inside her with slow, rocking thrusts that devastated her senses.

  “Ah, baby,” Shane groaned as the inner muscles tightened around him and she rocked into each thrust, taking him deeper.

  His fingers bunched in the hair at the back of her head, holding her still, her face lifted to his as he let his forehead rest against hers.

  Powerful muscles tightened between her thighs, his hips tensed. Tightening her hold on his shoulders, Alyssa stared up at him as a grimace of pleasure contorted his face.

  Iron-hard and throbbing, only the crown of his cock penetrated her, holding her suspended within the pleasure gathering inside her.

  “What are you waiting for?” She was trembling in anticipation, moisture gathering, slick and hot and spilling along her inner flesh. “Fuck me already.”

  His hips jerked, a hard thrust that buried his cock deeper, parting the hyper-sensitive flesh with a sudden, shocking rush of pleasure-pain. That border where the body’s ability to discern the difference and respond to both drew a low, desperate cry from her lips.

  “So sweet.” His voice was hard, tight from the effort it took to hold back. “I want to just feel you for a minute. So hot and slick. Stroking my cock as you tighten on me.”

  The muscles of her vagina flexed, rippling around him in a surge of exquisite sensation.

  “Your minute’s up,” she whimpered. “God, Shane, I can’t stand—”

  His hips drove up, fully impaling her, his cock burying to the hilt as his lips slammed over hers, taking her sudden, shocking cry of pleasure.

  Shocking, brilliant surges of sensation began racing through her body, burning through her senses as he began moving beneath her. Each thrust, each hard, burning impalement, stoked the gathering inferno building inside her.

  She felt stretched to the limit, her inner flesh struggling to accept the width and length of him even as her senses gloried in each stroke of agonizing pleasure. Holding her to him, his lips covering hers and taking the desperate cries escaping her, he pushed her toward the gathering chaos building through her.

  She felt too far away, unable to reach the brilliant arcs of ecstasy waiting to pierce her senses. They gathered, building, drawing her inexorably toward that chaos, but not fast enough. It was growing, brighter. Her pussy tightened around the shaft hammering at her senses, stroking through flesh growing more sensitive by the second, with each thrust, until she was crying beneath his kisses. She was desperate, mindless with the furious, white-hot need whipping through her. The sound of flesh meeting, perspiration slickening their bodies, her moisture growing slicker, hotter.

  Shane’s hands tightened at her rear, parted the rounded globes, allowing his fingers to find the little entrance of her rear, slick with the moisture spilling from her vagina. Stroking it, pressing against it. Tearing his lips from hers, he laid them against her ear, his fingers still pressing against that entrance, stealing her breath with the additional sensation gathering around her.

  “I’ll have Sebastian fuck that pretty pussy,” he groaned, his breathing hard, rough. “I want inside this hot little ass, Alyssa. I want to hear your cries as I stretch you, watch you take me there again, feel you accepting me.…”

  She could feel it, that storm beginning to wrap around her, to pierce her flesh, to burn inside her.

  “Shane!” Crying his name, she shook in his hold, tremors beginning to overtake her, racing through her as the white-hot ecstasy took hold.

  Shane’s fingers pierced that entrance, stretching it, stroking, moving against it as the explosion ruptured her senses and imploded in white-hot, cataclysmic waves of pleasure so intense, so ecstatic, she was certain she couldn’t survive it. Certain at one point that she died in his arms for a heartbeat of time.

  Between her thighs Shane’s thrusts became quicker, harder, shuttling through the tightening clench of inner flesh until he buried deep, a harsh, broken sound of pleasure rasping from his throat as she felt the first, hard pulses of his release. Jetting inside her, each hard surge of his seed another caress, another blinding sensation that extended the rapture holding her for precious, brilliant seconds.

  It was the same with Shane as it was with Sebastian. Each time they touched her, took her, filled her with such impossibly ecstatic pulses of pleasure, they bound her more firmly to them. Each time they touched her, they locked her emotions tighter against any chance of another man possessing them.

  They completed her.

  And if they were taken from her again Alyssa feared there would be no surviving the loss or the grief that would destroy her.

  And she had a very bad feeling that whoever was determined to get to her, to ensure she was forever taken from their lives, was going to be far harder to stop than any of them imagined.

  23

  “I simply cannot believe I wasn’t invited, personally to this little soiree.” The Georgia accent coming from the foyer as Alyssa stepped into the family room the next day had her pausing, a sense of fear instantly rising inside her.

  No. She didn’t need this. This was a disaster.

  The complications in her life were going to give her a frickin’ migraine. What in the hell had she done to piss off the Fates? Whatever offenses she’d committed, they were getting her back in spades now.

  “There could be a reason, Summer,” another, familiar feminine tone pointed out, the lack of accent as identifiable as the lyrical drawl had been. “You’re not exactly relaxing company to have around.”

  Alyssa winced. Please, please, don’t do this to me.

  “Me? Not relaxin’?” Pure disbelief filled the tone. “Y’all are gonna break my heart.”

  “No, we’re going to break your jaw if you don’t keep that accent under control,” the other woman snorted. “I swear to God, every time you go back to Georgia you come back sounding like someone shoved a wad of tobacco in your mouth. Stop already.”

  “Sugah, one of these days, I’m takin’ ya back home with me. Let you see how the other half lives.” The threat in Summer’s voice wasn’t pleasant. And Alyssa doubted Gia had any idea the retribution Summer would collect for the insult.

  “I doubt it.” Gia sounded horrified. “Go back with you? I’d kill your brothers in two hours flat. Your parents wouldn’t make it five minutes.”

  “I declare, you’re always killin’ my family members, Gia. I’m gettin’ rather tired of it. My family don’t need killin’.” No doubt Summer had her hands on her hips, her chin pushed out furiously, and those violet eyes glittering like amythests in her stunning fac
e.

  “Oh my God, listen to how you butcher the English language. Stop before I die.”

  “Ladies, don’t force me to send you both home.” There was the faintest hint of Spain in the dark, warning tone. “If you can’t get along on this trip then you’re going to regret it.”

  “Do I get time-out?” Summer drawled, all amused flirtatiousness now. “Really? Haven’t you learned better by now, Falcon?”

  “Falcone,” Gia corrected, her tone heavy with irritation.

  “I’ve learned the two of you are giving me a headache,” he grunted. “Now shut the fuck up.”

  “He’s bein’ mean to me again.…” Summer thought everyone was being mean to her at one time or another.

  “Not yet,” he assured her. “But I’m getting there.”

  Stepping quietly through the family room, she moved to the doorway and stepped into the foyer slowly. She really didn’t want this aggravation right now.

  Esteban Santiago de la Cortez Falcone. Shane and Sebastian had just called him Falcone. Quiet, intense, thick black hair, and pale, pale blue eyes set among Mediterranean features that seemed carved from granite. He set a duffel bag on the marble floor, his gaze centering on the two women.

  Gia carried a bulging backpack on one shoulder while Summer no doubt would have her luggage arriving later.

  That was just a Summer thing.

  “Can I help the three of you?” Alyssa asked them quietly, promising herself that she was not going to lose her temper.

  They had known she was there. All three of them, despite the fact that their backs were turned to her.

  Falcone was much harder than he’d been eight years before if his eyes and his expression was any indication. The look in his gaze reminded her of what she saw in the mirror each morning. Haunting grief, shadowed fury. She knew those emotions well.

  Gia Bennett still looked like a damned teenager until Alyssa caught her gaze as well. Not as shadowed as Falcone’s, but Gia had learned well how to hide whatever she felt. Otherise, she hadn’t appeared to have aged much, with her long nut-brown hair pulled into a ponytail, tattered jeans and multi-colored sneakers, and a T-shirt proclaiming: Yes, I do bite! She could have just stepped from her apartment in Barcelona, ready for a day of shopping.

  “Alyssa, you invited these two?” Summer batted thick, coal black lashes as she held her hand out to Falcone and Gia, palm up. “And didn’t invite me? You’re breakin’ my heart again, sugah.”

  Again?

  God, she didn’t need this. She was already furious with Summer. She didn’t need her friend here driving her insane and trying to talk her out of being mad at her.

  “I didn’t invite anyone,” Alyssa assured her. “Especially you. So what the hell are you doing here?”

  Neither Summer’s smile nor her expression indicated the fact that she could no doubt tell Alyssa wasn’t pleased to see her there. “I saw Gia and Falcone at the airport in D.C., actually, and just invited myself along.” Summer’s gaze narrowed on her. “And here I thought we were friends.” Pretty, intense violet eyes, though warm and watching Alyssa fondly, flashed with her own displeasure. “I was headin’ here anyway, though, so no biggie. Shame on you, not lettin’ a friend know you’re in all this kind of danger. I had to find out from Falcone. You know how much I love just shootin’ people, and you didn’t offer me the chance? For shame.”

  Pursing her lips in a pretense of thoughtfulness, Alyssa gave Summer a mocking look. “And you’re not getting the chance now.”

  Summer merely rolled her eyes. “Not an acceptable apology, but you can try again whenever you pull that stick outta your ass and give me a hug. It’s been forever.”

  “It’s been six months,” Alyssa reminded her.

  “Well, like I said, forevah.” Summer didn’t give her a chance to refuse a hug. She moved far too quickly for the four-inch heels she was wearing with the white and floral print sundress with its fragile straps and snug bodice.

  “I missed you, sugah,” Summer whispered as she embraced her. “And you shoulda called me.”

  “I’ll remember that,” Alyssa assured her, and they both knew she was lying. “And you have some explanations to make when all this is over.” She stepped back as Summer released her. “Now, all of you go home until you’re invited to return.”

  Hurt flashed in Summer’s eyes, followed by narrow-eyed displeasure.

  “Alyssa.” Falcone drew her attention. His expression had hardened, his gaze turning to ice. “Gia and Summer are both part of my team. They go no place unless I give them the order to do so. And I’m not giving it. But you can discuss it with Shane and Sebastian if you wish.”

  Discuss it with Shane and Sebastian, if she wished?

  Alyssa shot Summer an accusing look.

  “What sort of team, Falcone?” she asked sweetly, giving him a smile that she made certain was all teeth. “Or is that information privileged? Top secret perhaps?”

  “That smile isn’t a good thing, Falcone,” Summer sighed. “She’s not above throwin’ us out.”

  “You were already told to leave,” Alyssa reminded her calmly. “The rest of you can join her. Maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll give you a ride back to wherever on her daddy’s private plane.”

  “Now, Alyssa, sugah.” Summer propped a hand on her shapely hip. “You know we’re not going anywhere. So you can just stop with all the angry orders.” Direct violet eyes met Alyssa’s as Summer batted her lashes in an attempt to be charming.

  Alyssa wasn’t charmed.

  She could see the stubbornness in that gaze as well, and she knew how irritating Summer could get when she was in one of those stubborn moods.

  “And I don’t care much for her daddy’s plane. I prefer my own. Not that I’ll be using it to leave this job. Now, where are Shane and Sebastian?” Falcone was running out of patience and wasn’t that just too damned bad, Alyssa thought.

  At that moment Raeg stepped from the family room on the other side of the foyer.

  “Probably hiding,” Raeg drawled with chilling disapproval as he turned to Alyssa. “Thank you, dear, for informing me that Miss Peach here was arriving.”

  “Raeg, what part of ‘I wasn’t invited’ didn’t y’all eavesdrop on? And I declare I’ve never heard of a Bartlett peach in the whole of my life. Why, y’all are just getting your fruits all kinds of confused, aren’t you, darlin’? Rather like you do your women,” Summer drawled with such southern ice that Alyssa was a bit surprised.

  Raeg appeared pissed. Not just angry but also personally pissed.

  “Or like you confuse your employers?” he snapped. “Who is it today? DHS? FBI? CIA? Or some other alphabet agency willing to overlook your lack of loyalty?”

  Summer turned her startling eyes on Raeg with a pout. “Friends help busybodies, ya know? Employers give severance pay for the aggravation of having to kill. Multiple employers mean multiple benefits.” Her smile was all innocent charm.

  Falcone appeared bored by the theatrics, while Gia’s smile was filled with amusement. Alyssa had just had enough.

  “Raeg, have security escort them from the property while I track down Shane and Sebastian and let them know how much I appreciate warnings and so forth.”

  “Are y’all sellin’ tickets to that little shindig, sugah? I’m buyin’ if you are.” Summer laughed.

  “No, Summer, you are leaving. Now,” Alyssa stated. “But don’t worry, you and I will talk when everything here is settled. You can bet on it.”

  Refusing to argue further, Alyssa strode quickly through the foyer to the doorway at the end of the entryway. Striding quickly to her father’s office, she decided it was time to inform her lovers of exactly what she thought of this latest development.

  *

  “Summer and Alyssa were occasionally lovers … though very discreetly.”

  Alyssa pushed into the office just in time to hear her father inform her lovers of a small tidbit of information they really hadn’t needed. Info
rmation she was certain no one but she and Summer were aware of. God, how much worse could this day get, anyway?

  “Really, Father?” she demanded, outraged. “Why don’t I just go find the widow and see what interesting little details of your private life she’s unaware of?”

  This was completely outrageous and the looks of surprise on Shane’s and Sebastian’s faces were offensive. Since when was this any of Shane’s and Sebastian’s business?

  Propping one hand on her hip, she glared at her parent, unable to believe he’d tell such a private part of her life.

  Hell, she hadn’t even been aware her father had known such a private thing.

  “So tell me,” she demanded. “Do I get a list of every lover they’ve had in the past eight years? I believe that would only be fair at this point.”

  “Alyssa.” Her father stared at her, a frown brewing between his brows. “I taught you to knock before entering a room.”

  Oh, she just bet he wished she would knock. Of all the scenarios she could have envisioned walking in on, this wasn’t one of them. And since when did her life before they came to D.C. become any of their business?

  “Is that really the best you can do?” she questioned him, disgusted by the attempt to distract her. A rather feeble one at that.

  “It’s not what you think,” her father growled, throwing Shane and Sebastian a desperate look.

  As though that were going to do any good. They couldn’t exactly make her forget what she’d overheard, now could they?

  “Oh, Daddy.” She shook her head mockingly. “They can’t help you. How many other secrets did I reveal while I was out of my mind with fever and pain?” She turned to her lovers. “I guess Summer neglected to give you that little tidbit of information when you showed up here?”

  Because Alyssa sure as hell hadn’t told her father about that element sometimes added to her and Summer’s friendship. He could have only learned it while she was half out of her mind and pumped up on painkillers after having that knife shoved into her side. Or Summer told him. She hoped not, she’d have to kill her friend then.

  “None. Hell, damn it, Alyssa, I was just trying to help,” her father protested.