Braeden’s own body was every bit as primed as hers was now. He was going to have to get in her pussy damn quick if he didn’t want to just come all over her.
He let go of her tit to grab his cock. He rubbed himself over her opening, lubing himself up in her juice. He tried pressing in. She was wicked tight, and his cock distended her so much that she grimaced.
“Ow,” she said, but still she rocked a bit, like she wanted him in.
“You can take it, my little honeybitch,” he coaxed. Usually, he took the time to romance his fucks a bit. Somehow, she pushed him to crudeness.
He tried again, pushing against the tightness until he got the head of his dick past her opening. She whimpered just a bit with that.
Then he couldn’t help himself. She was so hot, so tight, he couldn’t hold back. He thrust all the way in, again and again. He pulled at her a bit, he knew, until finally her hot desire had his whole shaft coated and lubed. Then he could thrust easily, sinking deep, burying himself in her hot pussy.
He pumped into her, squeezing her ass to bring her legs up around him, then going back to manhandle her tits.
She was hot. He knew he had her worked up. But she was holding back. And even though he was ready to explode into her on, like, the third thrust, well, that just made him mad.
“You’re trying not to come, aren’t you? You’re trying to prove you don’t want me.” He ground it out through clenched teeth, right at her ear. “It won’t work, my sweet little bitch. I won’t let you hold out against me.”
Gritting his teeth, Braeden fucked her hard. “You’re so hot I could have made you come just by sucking your tits.” He sank deep into her with each thrust, working her G-spot, filling her full. He squeezed her nipple hard and yanked on it, tugging along with each lunge.
“Come,” he urged her, just barely keeping the whole bitch thing behind his teeth this time. “Come, goddammit.”
“No,” she said.
It became a chant then, he bidding her to come, she repeating her refusal. “No. No.”
But she was clenching around him, milking him with her cunt, and he knew he was winning. He dug in with his knees, thrusting even harder, faster. His one word instruction to her came louder.
And then each “no” became more than a word, more than a refusal. It became a wail and then a scream.
“No, no, no!”
She spasmed then, hard. Her body wracked like she was going to lift off from the bed like a rocket, even with his full weight on top of her. Her cunt tightened unbelievably around him, setting off an orgasm like he’d never had before. Totally beyond his control, his body humped into that fucking heaven, heaving and thrusting wildly. His cum shot into her, slicking up his final fucks.
A roar left his throat that felt like it had been torn from his balls. He couldn’t stop grinding into her, even as he collapsed down onto her, even as her screams died down to long, ragged moans and then finally feeble whimpers.
He couldn’t get enough air. He was clenched around her, his arms clutching her head, his thighs wedged up under her ass, so that his body surrounded, held hers.
She seemed to have the same trouble breathing. Like his, each breath was raw, hungry for air.
He rocked a little, soothing himself or her, he wasn’t sure.
Gradually they came down. He lifted his head to look at her.
She had her eyes closed. Her face was soft, like she was falling off to sleep already.
She looked beautiful. Like a satiated, well-fucked woman. Like a well-loved woman.
He stopped at that thought, opening his eyes wide. He didn’t want to think about it, but he was pretty sure he’d used words besides “bitch” and “cunt.” It was possible he’d used “sweetheart” and, well, another that for sure didn’t bear thinking about. One that started with “l.” No, that so wasn’t going to happen.
Swallowing hard, he made every effort to regroup. She had a hot pussy and had just given him the fuck of his life. That didn’t mean he was going to fall in love with her.
Without all that much gentleness, he disengaged. With a quiet murmur, she rolled over to her side, away from him. Watching her with a little suspicion that to his mind was entirely justified, he untied one wrist. She tucked her hands up under her face, like she was all ready for the sleep of the innocent.
He didn’t think she was so innocent.
In fact, he’d do better to think of her as devil-woman.
He retrieved a couple pillows from where they’d got knocked off the bed. He tucked them up under his head then pulled the covers back over them both. Very careful not touch her, he waited for sleep.
Chapter Seven
Annabelle moaned quietly when Rowen came and lifted her out of Braeden’s bed. She looked back once before he carried her away.
Braeden watched, his blue surfer-boy eyes glittering in the dark.
She couldn’t help circling her arm—silk tie still dangling from it—around Ro’s shoulder and whimpering a little into his chest.
She was fucked.
Well, yeah, she had been fucked, and how.
Her body had felt like it exploded, disintegrated, with that orgasm Braeden had fucked into her. She felt like pieces of her were still floating in the cosmos, perhaps drifting away forever like so much space junk.
And worse than that, her heart was sailing away out there, too.
Yes, he’d taken her hard, used her body, pushed her, called her “bitch.”
But he hadn’t pushed beyond what she wanted. Hadn’t called her bitch before he’d driven her to that place where she didn’t care, where she might even enjoy it.
It had been a battle, but they’d both won. He’d found pleasure, a mighty pleasure. But he’d given the same to her.
And in the end, he’d held her, soothed her in a way that was surprisingly endearing.
She was pretty sure he’d been surprised by it, too. Stunned, perhaps, was a better word.
She’d known when it had occurred to him, that his touch had gone from greedy and domineering to gentle and caring. Abruptly he’d withdrawn from her and scooted away like she was suddenly noxious. Yes, he’d been stunned. She was sure of it.
That meant he’d felt something he hadn’t expected as well, something warm and tender.
They’d both felt it. They both didn’t want it.
Well, maybe she wanted it.
Against her will, she’d fallen for it. Fallen for him.
But he clearly hadn’t wanted it.
She was fucked.
It was all Rowen’s fault.
He’d wheedled her into it.
Oh, she knew she could have accepted Braeden fucking her. Ro and Kev knew so well how to turn her on. It had taken only minutes for them to have her hot, have her brainlessly wanting that third cock.
She trusted Rowen, and if he vouched for Braeden, gave her to him, well, she knew she would be safe enough.
As he’d said, he’d made the call rightly before, with Kevin.
So Rowen was, like, a lover-whisperer for one Annabelle Talbot.
But Braeden had that hard edge. She might have fucked him and enjoyed doing it. Okay, not might. She had fucked him, and it had been spectacular.
But it would have stopped at that. There wouldn’t have been feelings involved, love involved, except for Rowen’s little revelation.
There was a lost soul, a good, gentle one, inside that hard bark of Braeden Reese.
Rowen thought Annabelle had the power to give him back his good friend.
He’d asked for her help, as a gift.
And because of that, she’d seen in Braeden what she’d have otherwise missed. She’d heard those words, sweet ones, that he’d used probably without even being aware of them. She’d recognized need in the way he’d clutched her, held her, as they’d shared that unearthly orgasm and then their slow return to sanity.
She couldn’t refuse him. Her heart had no armor against that need, that unspoken, unacknowledged re
quest for love.
Annabelle was certain it wasn’t just the fuck, for either of them, spectacular though it was. She wasn’t an idiot. She knew the difference between a great bang and falling in love.
Braeden had given her glimpses of those qualities that had made him such great friends with Rowen and Kev. He had that appealing cockiness, that self-assuredness softened by wry self-awareness. He was strong but tempered it with surprising tenderness, determined but open minded.
Open to everything, perhaps, but that little detail about love.
It was possible that Rowen had missed the mark on that one.
She wondered, carried in his strong arms now, if Rowen knew his friend as well as he thought.
He gently laid her in his bed and crawled in behind her. He snugged up to her ass, his hard cock pressing at her. He nudged her top leg forward a little, until he could slide his cock up her pussy.
She moaned a little—she was sore.
He held still, filling her with cock but not pumping her. He ran his hand up and down her arm, soothing her.
“It’s okay, baby. I just want to be here, inside you. It’s all good, now. Just sleep.”
She settled into it, that warm feeling of being with her number-one man, his cock hard inside her body.
He loved it, too. Almost every night that she ended up in Rowen’s bed, he’d find a way to poke himself into her. He just liked the feeling of it, she knew, that sense of being connected, of ownership, stake claimed.
Of course, most nights, it ended in a last quiet, loving fuck. But occasionally they both just fell asleep that way, owning and owned, possessing and possessed.
She tangled her fingers in his when he stroked her arm again.
He gave them a squeeze. “Are you okay, babe?”
He’d heard it, no doubt. The way Braeden had fucked her, her loud denial then that helpless, devastating orgasm.
The three bedrooms of the condo were large and roomy. But each of them came off the same short hallway. What happened in one could easily be heard in the others.
She’d learned it was a turn on for her guys. They liked listening. They liked hearing her get fucked, liked when their pal got her off and got his own rocks off, too. Very often it led to the man out coming in to join the party. Or, when the party was over, the other would come, leading with his cock already hard, and carry her off to his own bed for another round of one-on-one.
She moved her hand close to her face, rubbing against the tie that still circled her wrist. She caught the scent of Braeden and sighed. “Yes.”
“He’s going to love you, too, baby.”
Too. Did he mean to tell her that Braeden would love her, like he and Kev did? Or that Braeden would love her back, the way she already loved him? Could he know so soon that Braeden had captured her heart?
“Rowen,” she said. “I’m not sure he even likes me.”
“Yes, he does, babe. He just doesn’t want to.”
She shook her head, her heart torn. She had two men who loved her. It just wasn’t reasonable to want a third as well, and so much. Especially when that third one didn’t want her.
“Trust me, babe.” His cock twitched, and he moved inside her a little.
Rowen lifted her so he could slide his arm around and reach her breast with one hand. He gently circled her nipple, arousing it with tender touches. He took his other hand to her clit, gently stroking there, too. He waited until she began humming out little excited breaths before he started thrusting. In the last minutes, he rolled on top of her, pressing her breast and her clit against his wicked hands while he pumped into her cunt from behind.
She came once, quietly, thankful for this gentle loving fuck. But he wasn’t done. Using his hands more aggressively, fucking her harder, he drove her up again.
When she came again, he was with her, and neither of them was quiet.
She fell asleep with a silk tie wrapped around her wrist, thinking of those cocky blue eyes. And knowing the owner of those eyes had been listening.
* * * *
Annabelle was alone in Rowen’s bed when she woke. She curled on her side, snuggling up with Ro’s pillow and comforted by his scent on it. She gave some thought to just spending the day there, quite sure that what waited for her outside this room would only bring heartbreak.
It had to be faced sooner or later, though, and so eventually she got up and headed to the shower.
Kevin met her there, stepping inside just as she put her head under the spray.
“Hey, puss,” he said. He kissed her lips softly and brought her into his arms. He held her there, his tumescent cock nestled undemandingly against her belly. “Are you okay?”
Nobody could be sweeter than Kevin giving solace. It was such an adorable contrast to his usual somewhat surly nature. She nodded but cozied into his chest, letting his support and the warm water of the shower soothe her.
“You don’t have to be with him, puss. I know Ro has this fantasy about the three of us sharing you, but don’t worry about it. If you don’t want him, he’s out.”
She lifted her head to look up at him, touched by his concern. She shook her head again. “It’s not that I don’t want him. I think he doesn’t want me.”
Kevin tilted his head back and laughed, though he was still gentle with it. Then he kissed her again, nudging a little more with his cock. “Are you kidding me, puss? He wants you.” He kissed her some more, stroking her body now, rubbing his hands over her slick breasts. “Any man would.”
His dick was all the way hard now, and he lifted her. “Get up here, sweetheart. I need you.” She wrapped her legs around him, and he brought her down, impaling her with his cock, thrusting deep inside, filling her.
He just held her like that for long minutes. His arms circled her, loving and supporting. He whispered, his mouth right at her ear, hot words, about sex and fucking and coming. And warm words, about love and caring and adoration.
He pressed her up against the shower wall. One hand slid around her ass, and he plunged two fingers up her hole. He stretched and circled, reaming her. Then he started fucking her, his big hard cock thrusting in. He’d slam into her and then hold, keeping up that stream of hot words while he filled her. Then he’d withdraw, teasing, still tormenting her ass, making her wait for the next thrust until she was squirming with the need for it.
Finally he gave over, pistoning in, until they both came with hard, gasping spasms. The warmth of his cum flooded her. She moaned again, closing her eyes and savoring it, that intense pleasure of accepting his semen, that ever so intimate taking in of his being.
He let her down gently, still soothing.
“It will be okay, puss, whatever happens. If Braeden doesn’t stay, we’ll be enough for you, Ro and I. We’ll keep you happy, I promise.”
He was right. She felt bad to have doubted it. She knew how to be satisfied with what was possible. There was no point in chasing rainbows when full, loving happiness was already in hand.
He shut the water off and wrapped her up in a warm towel, still kissing and reassuring her. He sent her off to dress with a little caressing pat of her butt.
* * * *
Annabelle dressed a bit more demurely than usual, though she still made sure she looked hot. Braeden was going to get a good look at what he had to turn down. She wore a crimson pencil skirt that went most of the way down her thighs, its modest outline entirely negated by the slit in the back that ended just short of her ass. She matched it with a classically tailored white silk blouse. She left several buttons undone over her lacy white bra. She was covered, almost prim. But the open blouse and the skirt slit tantalized, leaving the eye hoping, begging for a little glimpse of the treasures that were just out of sight.
Braeden might not want her, but she’d make sure he walked away bent over, nursing a hard-on.
“She’s a fucking sweet piece of ass, I’ll grant you that.”
Braeden’s words hung in the air as three pairs of male eyes locked on
to her. They were sprawled on the deep couch and chairs of the living room when she walked in. She suppressed a little shiver at the intensity of their gazes. They weren’t aware of the slit yet, so their attention was quite taken by the little glimpse of her cleavage. She’d refused to walk into the lions’ den with her tits all hanging out the way Kev liked them, but she had stopped to be sure her nipples were nice and tight, making themselves known behind lace and silk.
As though she’d forgotten, she turned around and walked away, her four-inch heels giving her hips plenty of sway. She went to the table and filled a small glass with orange juice, bending over more than she had to, so they all got treated to a good look at the slit and could appreciate the way the skirt hugged her ass. She drank down half the juice, arching just so, and left the glass on the table.
She walked back and took a spot right next to Kevin, who lounged in his chair. Like the hound dog she was counting on him to be, he propped his elbow on the armrest, slipped his hand up that slit, and put his middle finger up her cunt.
Braeden stood and strode up to her. He was dressed in a nice tailored suit—and one of Ro’s ties.
“No offense, Annabelle,” he said to her. “You’re a hell of a fuck.”
Well, look who’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed. Annabelle guessed that his moment of panic had stuck with him more than those tender feelings that had preceded it. She raised an eyebrow as he went on.
“I’m in town for a week, and if you don’t mind my staying here, I will. If you open your legs for me to fuck you again, I’ll do that, too. I’ll freaking fuck your brains out. Again.”
He stepped away from her and pointed at his friends. “But you two are nuts. There’s no way we could all three live here and share one woman. This is not fucking college with some cock-starved coed, and a different one every night.
“Ro—how can you be such an idiot? If she was mine—” He gestured at Annabelle then trailed off and walked away. Keeping his distance, he turned back and spoke grimly. “I wouldn’t share her. She’d be in my bed every damn night.”
Three Men and a Woman: Annabelle (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 10