Maxwell, Brandi - Colleen's Desire [The Lost Collection] (Siren Publishing Menage Everlasting)

by Colleen's Desire

  “But...”

  He started to pull her dress up, and Colleen’s squirming resistance increased in intensity.

  Marc said, “Kiss me.”

  He pulled her voluptuous body in tightly once again, but as he did so, she stepped on his foot. Already slightly off balance, Marc tumbled slowly backward, pulling Colleen with him so that she pressed him into the grass.

  “Wait,” Colleen gasped. “I...I shouldn’t...”

  “Yes, you should.”

  Marc rolled over, taking Colleen with him so that he was atop her. He slipped one knee between her legs, then both knees. When he settled himself down upon her, his chest was pressed against the plentiful mounds of her breasts. Her dress had slid high up her thighs.

  “Everything you do excites me,” he said before dipping his head, sealing his mouth over hers once again.

  As he lessened the pressure of his mouth against hers, Marc moved his torso, rubbing his cock intimately against Colleen. Her soft sigh signaled her flagging resistance. Marc eased his tongue into her full-lipped mouth and experienced a surging sense of victory when she sucked his tongue deeper.

  A full minute passed before Marc took his mouth from Colleen’s. By then his heart was hammering in his chest, and the soaring need to release his cock from the imprisonment of his trousers was of primary importance. He kissed her cheek when she turned her face aside, then her throat.

  “Colleen,” he said, his tone hoarse with sexual tension, “your kisses alone could make me come.”

  She rolled her head briefly from side to side, and her copper-colored hair spread in wild disarray across her face. When she paused, Marc kissed her mouth and felt hair between their lips. He smiled while his lips were pressed against hers, then abandoned her mouth for other enticements.

  He kissed her collarbone through her dress while moving slowly downward, distinctly aware of his lower torso sliding between naked thighs that alternately clamped tightly around him, then spread wide apart. Colleen’s chaotic emotions were on flagrant display by the unconscious actions of her legs.

  Marc opened his mouth wide and pressed his face against the firm mound of Colleen’s left breast. Through the fabric of her dress, he first sucked on her breast, then blew his warm breath through the garments.

  “Oh, God!”

  “Not God, my love, only me,” Marc replied. He flinched inwardly at his unintended use of the word love. “Relax. I can make you feel divine if you only let me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “But I shouldn’t—“

  Another kiss to her breast silenced whatever protests she had intended to make.

  Marc wriggled down Colleen’s body, kissing her repeatedly through her dress. He kissed her stomach and felt her inner tremors as she moved beneath him, her breathing distinctly audible and very rapid. When Colleen put her bare feet flat against the ground and lifted her hips, her dress was pushed above her thighs.

  He moved lower, his shoulders sliding between her thighs. In the pale moonlight, her cream glistened on delicate lips.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered.

  “Oh! Don’t look at me.” She grabbed the hem of her dress and tried to push it down.

  Her words were a mystery to Marc. Why would a woman as lovely and feminine as she not want to be looked at? Though he’d spent much of his life blissfully oblivious to whatever hidden motives prompted a woman to share his bed, Marc knew that he wouldn’t be content until he knew why Colleen didn’t want to be looked at.

  “Let me please you.” He kissed the inside of her right leg just above the knee. “I’m going to make you come.”

  In the moonlight, Colleen’s skin gleamed ghostly pale. Beneath the small, triangular patch of hair, the lips of her cunt glistened moistly, acting as an intoxicant to his masculine senses.

  Marc put his mouth to Colleen’s pussy and sucked on her clit. Her instantaneous reaction was to clamp her thighs tightly around him, then spread them apart, then whip them together again.

  “Oh, God! Oh, God!” she gasped, her entire voluptuous body trembling, her heels tapping against Marc’s back.

  He sucked her clit between his lips, and used his tongue on it. While his tongue played havoc with Colleen’s senses, caressing her clit with alternating energy and gentleness, Marc raised up onto his knees to ease the pressure against a cock much too big to ever be easily confined within trousers while in an erect condition.

  “That’s so...so...” Colleen whispered, rolling her head from side to side on the ground. “It feels so...”

  “So good,” Marc said, finishing the sentence in the manner he suspected the redhead wanted but lacked the boldness to say. In any event, he finished her sentence the way he wanted her to. And then, so that there would be no misunderstanding on just exactly where his emotions were headed, he added, “So fucking good.”

  He wrapped his arms around her thighs so that his fingertips were at the lips of her pussy. He carefully separated the delicate lips, further, revealing the nub of her clit. Once exposed, he put his tongue flat against her clit and rubbed vigorously. He delighted in the high-pitched gasp she couldn’t keep silent.

  He straightened his back, lifting Colleen’s hips high. He held her effortlessly.

  “Ohhh! Ohhh!” Colleen sighed, only her head and shoulders still on the grass, her thighs spread wide, her legs draped over Marc’s shoulders. “That’s just so...so...”

  Marc looked down at her as he lavished her with slick caresses from his lips and tongue. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted, her hair spread across her face.

  He felt her shiver then and noticed that her breathing had quickened.

  “Come for me,” he said, his lips brushing her clit as he spoke. “And open your eyes. I want you to look at me when you come.”

  * * * *

  Colleen had never experienced anything quite like this. Yes, she had been the recipient of oral pleasuring before. But what she’d felt with Allen was nothing more than a pale comparison to the sensations Marc drew from her.

  Only her head and shoulders were still on the ground, yet Colleen wasn’t even aware that she’d been lifted until several seconds after it had happened. All her senses, all her concentration, centered on her own cunt. The lips of her pussy felt swollen with passion, and her clit pulsed and throbbed with an aching need for more of the slippery kisses and rasping licks that Marc bestowed with such consummate skill.

  And then she began to feel the slow, relentless tightening within herself. It seemed to start at some magical, mysterious place directly between the points of her hipbones. It was just a mild pressure to begin with, but that didn’t last long. Soon it was like there was a clock’s mainspring inside her being wound tighter and tighter and tighter until the spring would surely have to break and—

  “Come for me!” Marc said, his words slightly muffled because he kept his mouth pressed to her pussy even as he spoke. “And open your eyes.” It was a command given by a man accustomed to giving orders. “And open your eyes. I want you to look at me when you come.”

  She did as she had been told. What choice did she have? Everything about Marc whispered confidence.

  It was a surreal sight to see Marc’s face between her thighs, his nose pressed into the red hair above her cunt, his arms tight around her thighs. Overhead, the moon glowed eerily. Colleen teetered on the brink of ecstasy. Marc’s eyes were moist and glistened when she looked into them.

  That’s when the first of her orgasmic contractions gripped her. She tried to straighten her spine. Being doubled over was hardly a comfortable position to be pleasured in, but Marc held her tightly, his head moving from side to side as he feasted lustily. She tried again, but his strength was countless times greater than hers.

  Through clenched teeth, Colleen whispered, “Oh God!” as her body bucked and writhed, held steadfast by a man determined to eke every last bit of pleasure out of her as possible. It wasn’t until five so
lid contractions had gripped Colleen, followed by three more of lessening intensity, before she had at last reached the summit and then began the precipitous descent back to the world of reality.

  Softly, she asked, “My God…what was that?”

  He was smiling when he lowered her hips, and she could see that his lips and chin glistened with her own passionate juices. It seemed the wickedest thing in the world to Colleen to see the evidence of her own sexual intemperance there on his too-kissable lips. As he lowered her hips to the ground, Colleen put a hand between her legs.

  “Don’t hide. You’re beautiful.”

  But now that she had climaxed, a strange panic was creeping into Colleen’s senses, stealing away the bliss and ecstasy she’d experienced just moments earlier. She had promised herself that she’d never again leave herself vulnerable to a man. Lethargic with post-orgasmic lassitude, she could hardly comprehend what had just happened.

  “Wait…um…this isn’t what I had planned.” The words sounded so utterly foolish in her ears she was embarrassed she’d said them. “You don’t understand.”

  She watched as Marc calmly placed her legs on the ground, then moved so that he straddled them with his own knees. With smooth efficiency, he made quick work of unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning the fly of his black gabardine trousers.

  “You...you just don’t understand,” she whispered.

  Colleen watched as his fingers unfastened buttons with maddening speed and yet seemingly without haste. He started moving upward, and as he did so, he opened his trousers. His cock, long and thick and fiercely erect, sprang out. Once it was freed, Marc let out a grateful sigh.

  Though Colleen wanted to look away, she couldn’t find sufficient discipline as she watched his hand traverse slowly over his cock’s quivering length. “And just so that you know, now that I’ve tasted you, I don’t know if it’s possible that I’ll ever get enough of you.”

  The reality of what had happened hit Colleen with all the delicate subtlety of hail storm. While Marc had kissed her mouth, she’d experienced the sweetest sensations she’d ever known from a kiss. And when he performed oral sex with all the skill of a master magician, he taught her new meanings to words like enchantment and ecstasy. But that was when he was doing lovely and lustful things to her, and while all of her body was involved in the pleasuring, there was a significant part of Marc’s body that wasn’t involved. Now the part of him that hadn’t been involved was out in the open. It was big and hard and rather distinctly menacing.

  “There’s so much more than I want to do with you,” Marc whispered. “That was only the beginning of the ecstasy I can make you feel.” He took her by the wrist. “Touch me. See how hard you make me?”

  Her hand was inches from his cock when the crash from inside the house preceded a harsh, agonized groan by a split second.

  “Frank!” Marc exclaimed, bolting to his feet in an instant, wrestling to fit his erection back into his trousers.

  Colleen was on her feet and running toward the house, fearful now that Frank had hurt himself.

  * * * *

  Consciousness came to Frank slowly, in stages. With consciousness came pain. Raw, jagged-edged pain the likes of which he’d never before experienced. There was the harsh throbbing of his hand and wrist, but that was mild compared to the daggers of pain that seemed to come from inside his head, stabbing at the backs of his eyes.

  He was in a bed, he was naked, and there was a bandage around his head. But whose bed? A single kerosene lamp was lit, casting a pale golden glow around a small, tiny, one-room home. He recognized...nothing.

  Whose home was he in, and how had he gotten there? His head hurt hideously, but he had no recollection of what accident had befallen him.

  Frank had spent his entire adult life being in control of himself and his surroundings. To be suddenly and inexplicably battered and bloodied, in a house he did not recognize, scared him to the marrow of his bones.

  He started to move the blanket off his body, but his injured wrist pulsed in pain. With his left hand, he moved the blanket, then eased his legs over the edge of the bed. The daggers that had been stabbing the backs of his eyes seemed to drive deeper into him as he rolled onto his side, groaned, then forced himself to sit upright at the edge of the bed.

  He looked around the home once again. Wherever the hell he was, he was at least alone in the house.

  And he was going to get out. Now.

  He looked around, trying very hard to keep his head as motionless as possible. On the floor, he saw a small mound of clothes.

  At least he wouldn’t have to make his escape completely naked.

  With teeth gritted against the pain that pulsed through him, Frank rose unsteadily to his feet. His entire body ached, the pain going through him in riotous waves. He had taken just a single step toward his clothes when nausea and dizziness washed over him. Suddenly, a surrounding darkness clouded his vision, and he felt himself beginning to fall but was powerless to stop his descent. A strangled groan of pain was ripped from his throat as he fell.

  He was only semi-conscious as he blinked, his cheek against the floor. Never in his life had he felt so weak, so powerless, so utterly and completely helpless.

  “You fool!” It was a woman’s voice. “Are you trying to kill yourself?”

  A moment later, she was kneeling beside him, and Frank saw that it was Colleen O’Malley. Like a flash of lightning, the recent events of his life returned. He remembered the gunshot that had come out of nowhere to strike him down. The harsh ride in her buckboard. And there were Colleen’s gentle words as she used needle and thread to sew up the bullet’s gash in his scalp.

  He blinked several times, and his vision began to clear. “I couldn’t remember where I was or how I got here. Thought...I had to escape.”

  She took him by his uninjured arm and helped him sit upright. Frank looked at her, and despite the nausea and pain, managed a weak smile. “Sorry about the skin. I seem to have misplaced my clothes.”

  The sound of boots against the floor drew his attention, and he moved his head just enough to see Marc striding closer.

  Seeing his friend was there with him, he felt a sense that he would be all right.

  “You’re a damned fool!” Marc said, getting down on one knee. “Now let’s get you back to bed!”

  * * * *

  Zachery reached into the saddlebag and extracted a pint bottle of Tennessee sipping whiskey. He pulled the cork, took a healthy swig, sighed as the fluid warmed his throat on the way down, then handed the bottle over to Ralph.

  “Help yourself,” he said. “The boys should be here any minute now.”

  When Ralph took the bottle, Zachery swung down off his horse. He was feeling particularly good about the evening. Though he typically liked to take his time when plotting his schemes, on this night he simply came up with the idea and acted on it instantly.

  It was Frank Bishop’s nasty, smug smile as he kept winning hand after hand that had infuriated Zachery as much as actually losing so much money. It had tasted good on his tongue to accuse Frank of cheating at cards. Only Marc’s timely entrance into the card room had prevented guns from being drawn.

  “You sure of those guys?” Ralph asked, getting off his horse. He took another drink.

  “I said you could have a swallow, not drink the whole damn thing,” Zachery said sharply, pulling the bottle from his friend. “And as for being sure about Daggard, I’d say he’s about as cold-blooded a bushwhacker as I’ve ever known. When I told him about Frank having a wad of my cash on him, you should have seen his eyes light up. He’s scum, but on a night like this one, he’s useful scum.”

  The sound of approaching horses on the night air drew Zachery’s attention. He took another big swallow before corking the bottle and returning it to his saddlebag. Aside from being merciless killers, Daggard and his friends were alcoholics, and Zachery wasn’t inclined to waste his best sipping whiskey on them.

  “You figure Dagga
rd’ll shortchange you?” Ralph asked.

  “Hell yes, but I don’t care. Getting Frank Bishop and Marc Andollini out of my life forever is worth the money I lost in poker tonight. Worth it and more.” He tested his revolver in the holster, making sure the security loop wasn’t over the hammer. He didn’t mind using Daggard’s services now and then, but he’d never trust the man. “Look sharp. Make sure they all stay together. I want them in a bunch where I can keep an eye on them all.”

  When Zachery saw the riders approaching, even from a distance and in thin moonlight, he knew that the ambush had not gone as planned. Only one of the four men rode properly. Two of the riders appeared barely able to stay in the saddle. The fourth rider was slumped over his horse’s neck and seemed hardly conscious.

  The four riders pulled to a halt at the bend in the road where Zachery had promised he would reward them for their treachery.

  “What the hell happened?” he asked.

  Daggard got off his horse slowly. In the moonlight, his face was shiny with sweat. He held a bloody neckerchief to his ribs.

  “It was a goddamned ambush,” he said.

  Zachery noted that Daggard made no move to assist any of his friends dismount even though they were obviously in need of help.

  “I know it was an ambush. I’m the one who told you where to set it up and who to shoot.”

  Daggard grimaced in pain. “You don’t get it. We ambushed those men you told me to, but then somebody else ambushed us. I had that big man Frank in my sights and let him have a bullet. I watched him fall, and that’s when all four of us started riding hell-for-leather at that other fella. Next thing we know there’s bullets flyin’ everywhere and we’re all going down one after the next.” He looked over at his friends. One of them was standing, and the other two were down on one knee. “Harley caught one in the guts. He’s hurt bad. And Marley ain’t doin’ so good neither. He took a bullet in the shoulder. Won’t kill him, but he’s gotta see a doctor right quickly.”