Unraveled- 8 Delicious Tale of Passion

Home > Other > Unraveled- 8 Delicious Tale of Passion > Page 20
Unraveled- 8 Delicious Tale of Passion Page 20

by Fawkes, Sara


  willing to touch them and let them touch you, Laura. Just start with that. Don't overthink it.”

  Don't overthink it. “Easy for you to say.”

  “No, it's not.”

  “You have the libido of a seventeen year old boy.”

  Josie didn't argue. “I had to get over myself, though, to let Alex love me and to love him back,”

  Josie reminded her.

  “You think I'm the same way with sex? Because I am so not as fucked up in my sex life as you are

  in your emotional life.”

  “Nothing has to be 'fair and balanced,' here,” Josie huffed. “This isn't Fox News.”

  They both laughed. “Now get off the phone and go get into a mess of six arms and legs and

  tongues – ”

  “Six tongues?”

  “You know what I meant. Go get dirty, Laura. Have raunchy, awesome, mind-blowing sex with the

  fathers of your baby. Enjoy yourself. Alex and I have Jillian and we sure as hell won't be having any

  sex tonight, so go be the ones getting some for once.”

  “Laura?” Mike called out from the living room.

  Josie was right. It was time to show up. Catching a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror on

  the back of the door, she gasped -—and then stopped. The mental torture dissipated. This was silly.

  And the whole mascara-raccoon look really didn't do it for her. Giggling (and enjoying the sound

  from her), she wiped her eyes, splashed some cold water on her face, and used the magic of the

  lavender-infused tissues to clean herself up. A deep, shaky breath or two and she opened the door,

  walking toward the bed, and looked up to find:

  Dylan and Mike, completely naked, stretched out on the bed. Mike dangled a pair of handcuffs

  from one finger, while Dylan held a large champagne flute in his hand, stretched out for her to take.

  “Subtle,” she said, taking the drink. She downed it in one huge gulp.

  “That's Taittinger – ” Mike protested as Dylan interrupted him with a dark look.

  Laura couldn't stop herself from laughing at the scene. Mike's long, tan, taut legs didn't even come

  to the end of the enormous bed, his erection standing proud, making Laura feel a prickly heat flow

  through her as her eyes took him in greedily. As if that weren't enough, Dylan lounged on the bed like

  a model in the middle of a shoot, one knee up, the other stretched out, his own massive cock at

  attention, as if it were the focal piece for a photograph.

  In her mind, it was.

  And between them, a space just right for her. Instead of climbing into the bed and over one of the

  guys, she started from the base and crawled up, her eyes shifting from one man to the other, their

  bodies and coloring so starkly different yet blazingly rich. Tall, blonde Mike and thick, muscled

  Dylan, with his swarthy complexion and riveting eyes. Both made her smolder, and both made her see

  that all her fears were baseless, her insecurities an old relic left over from a time when she hadn't felt

  loved enough.

  No need for those thoughts any more.

  Dylan's warm palm slipped under her panties, cupping her ass, and then Mike's nimble fingers

  made quick work of the wisp of cotton and silken cloth, leaving the three of them completely nude on

  the huge bed, the room hushed and warm, the candles lending an eerie, contemplative glow as Laura

  relaxed – really relaxed – for the first time in ages.

  “What do you have planned for me?” she asked Mike, eyes flitting from him to the handcuffs he

  held over her as Dylan teased one nipple, the shock making her shiver.

  A crooked half-smile teased his lips, making her wet and, suddenly, very wanting. “We had more

  than enough planned for you, but we thought we would have to pry whatever's wrong out of you.” He

  gently set the handcuffs down on the end table, twisting his torso in that maddening way that made

  muscles pop out from his waistline, the effect artistic and graceful and hot.

  “Pry?” Now Dylan peppered her shoulders with tiny kisses that made it hard to think. Ah, that wet,

  warm mouth. What he could do elsewhere...

  “We know you've been so quiet, honey,” Mike said, cupping her chin, as Dylan's kisses continued.

  “We just want you to be happy. We both feel so complete when we're with you. You light us on fire.

  We want to do the same for you.”

  She swallowed, hard, as Dylan stopped the butterfly touch and curled around her, legs pulled up,

  glorious cock ready for its own set of kisses – from her.

  “This is when I feel most connected to the entire world, Laura. Right here. Right now. With you,”

  Dylan added, brushing the hair off her face with little touches of love.

  What should have happened next didn't. Laura expected to cry, to make a bunch of excuses, to

  apologize, to cringe – to deflect. But it didn't happen.

  “I could sit here,” she said, fingers lightly stroking Mike's shaft as he gasped, jaw tightening,

  struggling to listen to her, “and tell you all about why I've been so miserable.” In fairness, she took her

  other hand as she stretched out on her back, and gave Dylan a set of finger strokes that made him

  inhale sharply. “Right now, though, I don't want to do that. I don't want to tie myself in knots trying to

  unravel the past six months and ruin what we have right here, right now.”

  “So,” she said, letting go of Mike and turning to Dylan, the press of her lips against the tight,

  warm skin of his pecs so luxurious and so sensual she wished she could do it – and nothing but –

  forever, “let's read and talk later. We have six months of catching up to do.”

  Strong hands pinned her to the bed with such speed she couldn't think, her wrists pressed deeply

  into the mattress. “Six months, huh?” Mike asked, now looming over her, body folded on his knees,

  the thick thigh muscles bulging along with another very bulging muscle that glistened with need.

  “Which fantasy is your favorite, Laura? Because Dylan went shopping and we can do anything you

  want right now.”

  Whatever control she thought she had over both of them with her taunting touches dissipated in

  seconds. Holy shit. They were serious. A deep, shaking sense of profound joy filled her.

  “If you're the one who is dominating, you're the one who calls all the shots,” she rasped.

  “No. Wrong,” Dylan said, his voice hoarse with desire. “You decide everything. We have only one

  thing we control.”

  “What's that?”

  “Your orgasm.”

  She groaned involuntarily, already squirming with a white-hot need that she'd assumed could be

  quelled with a mouth or a cock within a few minutes. They were going to draw this out amidst the

  splendor of the room, the greatest gift before them handed to the three by their friends: time. Oh, the

  grand joyful prospect of an entire night stretched out in infinite glory for nothing but this – pleasure

  and sensual pain and whatever these men did to her as the three of them explored uncharted territory

  in bed.

  Her clit swelled with a craving to be touched and nibbled and licked and loved, the emotion so

  buried and unfamiliar it claimed her in full. This is what it felt like, to be in a state of wanting all the

  time. She'd hardly recognized it, having repressed it for so long, and yet here it was, laid bare just as

  she was, her eyes being covered by that red, silk scarf Mike had just played with minutes ago in his

  hands.

  “Yo
u need to pick a safeword,” Dylan whispered.

  “Safeword?”

  “It's something you say to stop us if – ”

  The giggle bubbled up inside her as someone – Mike? – adjusted the scarf. Unable to see them, her

  senses sharpened as she worked to know where they were in space. Dylan's voice sounded like brandy.

  “I know what a safeword is. Do we really need one? You guys aren't going to – ”

  Bzzzzz. Except that wasn't her phone. What was that? It sounded loud.

  And big. She felt the covers shift slightly, and then the bed began to vibrate a bit. Good hell.

  “OK, OK, a safeword,” she gasped. How big was that vibrator? Racing through the set of books she

  had on her eReader, she wondered which sex scenes the guys had read. The possibilities were endless.

  Stifling a moan of ecstasy at the thought of reliving some of what she'd read, she tried to gather

  herself.

  “Um, Madge is my safeword.”

  “Madge?” She almost laughed at the incredulity in Dylan's voice.

  “Yes, Madge.”

  “That will halt everything permanently,” he mumbled. “And – yep. There went my erection. Good

  choice.”

  Mike's laugh erupted to her right as someone – she guessed him – turned the buzzing off.

  “I can take care of that for you,” she murmured, fumbling with her hand for him. He was just there

  a moment ago, and now that he wasn't talking, she could only go by touch and sound. The shuffle of

  skin on cloth as someone moved beside her tickled her ears; the muffled sound of lit candle wicks

  flickering as air moved, and the rasp of muscle against the sheets again all filled her with anticipation.

  Without vision she was acutely and frustratingly tensed for whatever came next.

  Hopefully, it would be her.

  Strong hands slid up her calves, to her thighs, and then a gentle push apart as her breath flowed in

  with an increased rush at the end, clit ready for the expected sensation of a finger, a mouth, of

  attention lovingly delivered the way she most wanted and needed it.

  The warmth of a body – Mike's, she could tell, from the way his leg brushed against her knee, the

  pattern of skin and hair somehow ingrained in her, her mind marveling that she could know that,

  blindfolded – was between her now and a heated ache spread from her belly on down, body awakening.

  To her surprise, Dylan's lips were at her ear, teeth nipping her lobe, and he whispered, “I want your

  mouth.”

  Biting her lower lip, her core swollen with need, this was almost too much. “Of course,” she said,

  and as her eyes rolled and she felt her body relax, layer by layer, at the same time the feel of Dylan as

  he moved to put his erection close to her face made a keen wave of pulses pour through her, nearly

  pushing her to climax by the mere thought, the hint, of what was next.

  Wet, eager, and wanting, she was hardly the same woman from thirty minutes ago. And she loved

  it that way as the tip of Dylan's taut cock touched her mouth. Fumbling, unable to see, she pulled one

  hand to his shaft, but a strong palm wrapped around her wrist and stopped her.

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Dylan, we forgot to tie her wrists,” Mike said, his body catlike and stretched out,

  half on her and off, the massive heat from his body now covering two thirds of her as he'd stretched up

  from between her legs to grab her.

  “Guys, you don't have to do this,” she said in a sheepish tone. “It's not like I need thi – ”

  “You have a safeword,” Mike hissed, her wrist encased in a soft coating around something metal.

  Click. Her shoulder adjusted, then Mike did the second arm. She was spread out on the bed and felt

  somewhat silly and yet more turned on than she'd ever been in her life. “Feel free to use it whenever

  you need. But until then, Laura, your pleasure is completely in our hands.”

  A wall of pure lust pounded through her veins as Mike's words sank in. Dylan's hot, pulsing cock

  came to her mouth at the same split second Mike's warm lips descended on her clit, the twinned tactile

  treasures shoving her out of her own head and back into her body, where all that mattered was her lips

  wrapped around Dylan's erection, the push of Mike's fingers on her wet folds, the heat of all three

  bodies working in concert with no interruptions, no plans, and nothing to do but this.

  Hips bucking up, she found her orgasm standing ripe and ready, the tease of Mike's little laps

  bringing her there as she tightened, his finger sliding inside to find a wall of muscle searching for

  some welcome visitor to embrace.

  And then...he stopped.

  Dylan's gentle gliding in and out of her mouth, balanced above her chest, slowed down as she

  moaned from frustration, wanting more of what Mike had to offer. He wasn't kidding – he was going

  to draw this out and bring her to the edge, then pull back, over and over until she begged.

  Maybe if she pleaded now he'd relent? It had been so, so long. Too long.

  “Please,” she mumbled, hips straining up.

  Bzzzzz.

  Oh, dear.

  Warm liquid poured from a single drop that fell with exquisite perfection on the tip of her

  engorged clit, and then a river of lube poured down her folds, the feeling so lush she rolled her pelvis

  up to capture more. Everything felt more right now, without her hands or eyes, and she wondered what

  the buzzing and the lube meant.

  The push of something hard sliding in the lube around her ass made her core tighten, kegels

  excited and pulsing. The three of them had never been shy in using Laura's extensive sex toy

  collection in bed, but whatever Mike had at her spread-out ass was big.

  She pushed against it, body eager on a level that her mind hadn't quite caught up to.

  “Good,” Mike said, his voice thick with emotion. “You want it.”

  Who was this? Mike could certainly take charge in the bedroom but he seemed to... revel in

  exerting so much sensual control over her. Dylan wasn't exactly a wallflower, either, his hands buried

  in her hair, fingers lovingly massaging her scalp as he gently rode her mouth. His legs tightened and

  she knew that it was her body, her lips, her tongue, and the essence of her that brought him to this kind of free hedonism, the easy, open sensuality that they shared right now. It made what Mike was

  doing to her all the more intense as he edged whatever vibrating device he used toward her puckered

  hole, sending her pussy walls into spasms that weren't quite orgasms.

  Unfortunately.

  And then the live wire of her entire body coalesced into one pinpointed strand of pure presence and

  enjoyment as he breached her tight ring of muscle and –

  Aahhhhhh. The feeling of fullness was so powerful that she faded to a white cloud in her mind,

  existing as nothing more than pure touch. A ball of nerves, a set of lungs that panted, and an ass and

  pussy that throbbed with short bursts of pounding blood and roaring cravings. Dylan's slow, shallow

  thrusts gave her tongue an opportunity to find the ring of his mushroom cap and to give it the languid,

  centered attention it deserved until suddenly he was gone, her hands itching to touch him, body one

  long bundle of need to give.

  Receiving so much pleasure was hard. Harder than she'd ever imagined, and as Mike slowly

  inserted the vibrating device past her point of comfort she found a thick wall of soft pain heightened

  everything, making the pleasure achingly better. Ears perked
, she could hear birds outside, the rustle

  of vibrant late-fall leaves floating to the forest ground, the wind whistling against tall pines.

  Just as she began to undulate in waves, her hips moving in a perfect sine curve, Mike slid the

  device out of her, leaving an emptiness she couldn't bear.

  “No! Please!” she cried out, her words silenced by the voracious press of Mike's mouth on hers.

  Thickly muscled arms slid under her as deft hands released her wrists from the handcuffs. Aloft in the

  air, she felt her self-consciousness kick in as Mike’s mouth broke away and she felt herself moving

  through space.

  “What are you doing?”

  Dylan’s voice whispered in her ear. “You up for some swinging?”

  A cold terror shot through her. Swinging? “Swinging?” she gulped.

  Mike laughed to her left. “Not that kind.”

  Her belly rolled in on itself and her breasts pressed against Mike’s perfect chest while Dylan held

  her and Mike moved her feet into some sort of odd, suspended strap in what seemed like midair. It

  was as if all the extra flesh on both her men had been conferred unto her and she felt it again, that

  familiar, slightly-sickening diminution of what should have been a near-holy moment.

  Dylan tensed and stopped. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she said airily, trying to recapture the mood.

  “Time to pry.” Mike’s words came out as if he’d expected to say them all along.

  Blinking under the silken cloth of her blindfold, Laura was at a crossroads. She could tamp down

  her feelings and pretend they weren’t there, which was her default mode these days. Or, she could do

  what she’d always wanted to do in her heart – in her soul – and extend the benevolent, sensual

  wholeness that Mike and Dylan had brought into her life and trust that it would be there when she

  opened her mouth.

  Slipping her right arm into some sort of leather belt thing, and then her left, she felt Dylan release

  her and she faltered, her core muscles struggling to find balance where, it seemed, there really was

  none.

  Hands reached behind her neck and untied the scarf, revealing her lovers, still naked, now face-to-

  face with her as she found herself suspended in front of them, her full body on open display, legs split

 

‹ Prev