by Elle Kennedy
The other man made the decision for him by sliding down Sloan’s body to kneel at the end of the bed.
“You might want to move over there, gorgeous.” Rylan motioned to the chair near the bed. “You’ll get a better view of the action.”
Without a word, Reese sat down.
Sloan wasn’t surprised that she’d stayed to watch them. She was drawn to this type of feral behavior, to the wild recklessness of others that she tried so hard to stifle in herself.
He locked eyes with her as she settled on the chair.
Fuck, he would’ve liked if she’d settled on his face. If she’d taken the choice out of his hands and placed her wet pussy over his mouth. That would’ve been perfect. Reese’s sweetness on his tongue while Rylan sucked him off? Jesus. At the filthy thought, Sloan grew harder than the rods they used to support the town gates.
Rylan grinned as he drew Sloan’s long, eager cock in his hands. The throbbing shaft formed a tense arrow of need pointing straight to Rylan’s mouth.
The hot wash of breath on his dick had Sloan tightening his hands on the thin mattress. Something dark and aggressive hung in the air as he awaited Rylan’s next move.
Rylan gripped Sloan’s cock, rubbing it without lubrication even though there was a bead of fluid at the tip. He left it there, like a tease.
The rough gesture had Sloan baring his teeth. “You know what you’re doing?” he growled.
A smirk tipped up the corners of Rylan’s lips. “Better than you, I’d bet.”
“Doubt it.” Sloan was choosy about his partners, but there’d definitely been a man in the mix here and there. He usually preferred women, but tonight he needed this—the hot male mouth that closed over his cock and nearly swallowed it whole on the first pass.
Everything about women was soft and small, and Rylan was none of those things. No, Rylan was hard and built. His back and shoulder muscles were clearly defined and they flexed and bunched as he bent over Sloan’s body. A woman might enjoy his blond hair or wicked grin. Sloan admired Rylan’s strength. The purposeful, knowing movement Rylan utilized toward a specific goal, and right now, the man was applying himself to sucking Sloan off with a familiar fierce determination.
The wet suction sent an electric shock down to Sloan’s toes. But he wasn’t ready. Not yet. He was going to drag this out, because there was no need for restraint here. No worrying about striking the wrong place at the wrong time with too strong of a thrust.
He levered himself up on his elbows and wrapped his hand around the back of Rylan’s neck. The other man lurched back as far as Sloan allowed him.
“You thinking about replacing me with Reese?” Rylan’s voice had taken on a harsh drawl, a side effect from the throat fucking. Reese had talked like that all day after Rylan had had her. And Sloan’s dick had ached for a whole week afterward, thinking about what’d it feel like if it were his dick down her throat.
But right now? That fantasy hadn’t even occurred to him. He looked down at the callused hand wrapped around him, and then into Rylan’s eyes.
“Last thing on my mind is replacing you with Reese.”
Rylan stroked Sloan’s length again, bringing his hand up to close a fist around the cockhead and then slide it down to the root. His mouth provided the lube, but the caress was still on the violent side.
“Yeah?” Rylan gave a knowing smile. “Then that means you’re thinking about Reese sitting on your face, fucking herself on your tongue.”
Sloan’s traitorous cock jumped in the other man’s fist.
A strangled sound came from Reese, but he forced himself not to look at her. It was one thing to imagine her whipping off her clothes, throwing a lithe leg over his head and pinning her knees on either side of his head. It was one thing to dream of her pretty pink lips glistening with her need and hear her sigh his name as she ground down on his face. But it was an entirely other thing for it to actually happen.
He took a deep shuddering breath to prevent himself from ordering—no, begging—Reese to come and join them.
“No, I’m good,” he muttered in response to the taunt.
Rylan’s expression transformed into one of evil delight. Still twisting, gripping, and stroking, he spoke casually, as if narrating a scene from a book. “I like your vision of me sucking you off while Reese rides your face, but I think we’d all like it more if we were both inside her. Would you want her pussy or her ass?”
The fantasy of the three of them moving slick and hot against each other roared through Sloan’s mind. Jesus. Enough talking. He tightened his grip around Rylan’s neck and urged the kneeling man closer. Warm lips opened to take him in again, straight teeth scraping against his sensitive skin. He raised his pelvis and then used the power in his thighs and hips to thrust down Rylan’s throat in swift, even strokes.
Reese let out a whimper.
Rylan took every plunge of Sloan’s cock with ease. His cheeks hollowed and his throat swelled. His hand cupped Sloan’s balls, knowing exactly how brutal he could be when squeezing the tight sac.
Sloan couldn’t take it anymore. It was all a blur of wet suction and heat until the light winked out and he shut his eyes. He jerked back but Rylan followed him, taking it all in, swallowing him fully until Sloan was utterly spent.
“Jesus,” Reese whispered.
He rolled his head to the side to see her eyes shining bright like coins.
Rylan stood up, his face flushed and lips glossy. He swiped a hand across his mouth, smearing Sloan’s come across his cheek. Reese’s gasp made him chuckle softly.
“You ready to stop fighting this?” Rylan drawled, stalking toward her like a beast of prey.
She didn’t move, pinned to the chair by either Rylan’s need or her fevered lust. Both maybe. Then she opened her mouth, but her response—whatever it may have been—was cut short by a knock on the door that startled them all.
Sloan quickly hauled himself off the bed. Whoever was behind that door had to have heard the husky groans and low growls coming out of this room, which meant there was a good reason for the interruption.
“What is it?” he barked at the closed door.
“Sorry, man.” It was Nash and he sounded miserable. “We’ve got a broken pipe over at the restaurant. We tried to repair it but the damn thing keeps leaking.”
Sloan stifled his annoyance. But maybe this was a blessing in disguise. His heart was still pounding uncontrollably, every muscle in his body still coiled tight. And he was already hardening again despite the intense climax that had just rendered him limp and mindless.
He needed to come again.
But . . . if he stayed here, if he came again . . . there was a terrifying chance it might be with Reese.
He cleared his throat and addressed Nash. “I’ll be right there.”
* * *
Reese watched in dazed silence as Sloan picked up his discarded clothing and started to get dressed. Her gaze zeroed in on his bare ass. The tight, perfect ass that made her fingers tingle with the urge to squeeze it.
She’d seen Sloan naked countless of times before. There was no such thing as modesty in the free land—sometimes you had no choice but to take your clothes off in front of another outlaw, especially when you were traveling and there was no privacy to be had.
So yes, she’d seen Sloan naked. She’d admired the hard planes of his body. His long, powerful legs and sculpted arms. His muscular chest and impossibly broad shoulders. His ass . . . God, that ass.
But this was the first time she’d seen him naked in a sexual context. The first time she’d seen him come. A shiver flew up her spine. Christ. She’d just seen him come in another man’s mouth.
And she’d never been more turned on in her life.
“Sloan,” Rylan started, his voice gruff.
“Gotta go,” was the terse reply, and then Sloan slid through
the door and latched it shut behind him.
After a beat, Rylan turned his frustrated gaze toward Reese. “You taking off too?” he muttered.
Slowly, she shook her head, causing his blue eyes to narrow as he stared at her face. He searched, studied, probed, for what felt like hours, and Reese saw it the instant that understanding dawned on him.
“Fucking hell.” He started to laugh. “It’s not just him.”
She swallowed hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Still chuckling, he sat on the edge of Sloan’s bed, laying one hand flat on the tousled sheets. He was completely unbothered by both his nudity and the thick erection rising toward his navel.
“I thought it was one-sided,” he said slowly. “I thought it was his issue. Wanting you so badly it drives him mad, but not being able to have you. I figured you shot him down.” He tipped his head thoughtfully. “But I’m wrong, aren’t I? You’re as hot for him as he is for you.”
She tried to summon a denial, but her mouth stayed stubbornly closed.
“Why won’t you fuck him, gorgeous?” Rylan sounded perplexed. “Why won’t he touch you?”
Because . . .
She swallowed again. Harder this time.
Because . . .
Damn it, no. She didn’t want to think too hard about the answer to that question. She didn’t want to slash open all those old wounds that—
Because Jake won’t let us.
Fuck. Fuck. And there it was, the pathetic truth that both she and Sloan had never, ever spoken out loud.
She’d acknowledged her attraction to Sloan only once—four years ago, when she and Jake had been tangled together in his bed, recovering from a round of hot, sweaty sex that’d left them both breathless. In a low voice, Jake had admitted that Sloan wanted her. Then he’d asked her point-blank if she felt the same way.
Reese had whispered yes.
That was the night she discovered that Jake didn’t like to share.
He’d completely lost it. He’d growled that as long as he was alive, no other man would lay a hand on her. His eyes had been wild, his dick harder than stone as he’d proceeded to show her that he was the only man she would ever need, the only man who could ever satisfy her.
Sick as it might have been, Reese couldn’t deny that his possessive, feral response had excited her. Everything about Jake had excited her. After he’d taken her that night, he’d made her promise that she would never touch Sloan.
And even though Jake had been dead for three years, it was a promise Reese was still keeping. But for a different reason, this time.
“You know what? It doesn’t matter why,” Rylan said quietly. “C’mere, baby. I’ll give you the answers you need.”
His blue eyes warmed as he extended his hand to her, and Reese wondered what he’d seen on her face to make him soften like that. Guilt? Fear? Regret? Whatever it was, she didn’t like the thought of Rylan getting such a candid peek behind the carefully constructed mask that she was usually much better at maintaining.
“The answers I need . . . ?” she echoed warily, because what the hell did he mean by that? He was the one asking all the questions, poking at old scabs he had no business poking.
Despite her irritation, her confusion, her reluctance, she found herself rising from the chair and approaching the bed. She stopped when they were a foot away, so he reached for the bottom of her oversized sleep shirt and pulled on the fabric to erase the rest of the distance between them.
His fingers slowly dragged the thin material up to her waist and higher. When it snagged on the undersides of her breasts, he murmured, “Take this off.”
She obeyed on instinct, slipping the shirt over her head and then letting it drop to the hardwood floor. She liked a bossy man in the bedroom, because in all other aspects of her life, she was in charge. Not having to make decisions when it came to sex was a relief.
She wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and one of Rylan’s hands immediately moved between her legs, his knuckles grazing her clit. Her aching, very swollen clit, a painful result of the decadent man show she’d witnessed.
Her breathing quickened as she remembered the sight of Sloan’s huge cock tunneling in and out of Rylan’s mouth. The way Rylan’s cheeks had hollowed as he sucked as deep as he could. Sloan’s husky grunt of release as he spilled in Rylan’s mouth . . . Rylan’s hungry moan as he swallowed every drop.
“I’ll give you your answers,” he said again, those same cryptic words she couldn’t decipher. He leaned toward the floor, grabbed one pant leg of his jeans, and dragged the faded denim toward him. Then he slid his hand in the back pocket and emerged with a condom, which he wasted no time rolling onto his very prominent erection.
“You want to know what his lips feel like, don’t you?” Rylan prompted.
He tugged her onto his lap so her knees were straddling his broad thighs. His erection rubbed her throbbing core, and when she hissed at the contact, he clutched her ass cheeks and brought her closer. Through the condom she felt the silver barbell at the tip of his cock scraping against her clit with each gentle glide.
“His lips are firm,” Rylan whispered, and then he brought his own lips to her neck and sucked on the delicate tendons there. “Hard. Warm.”
He kissed her jaw, a gentle brush of heat, before licking his way to her ear. She shuddered when he captured her ear lobe between his lips. “You want to know what his hands feel like?” He tipped his head up, searching her face.
Reese found herself nodding. Helpless.
“His hands are rough.” Rylan’s palms traveled down to her breasts. “Dominating.” He squeezed hard enough to make her gasp, the calluses on his fingertips scratching her hypersensitive nipples. “But maybe with you, those hands would be gentle.” Just like that, Rylan loosened his grip and swept his thumbs in a barely-there caress over the tips of her nipples.
Reese whimpered with pleasure. God. She didn’t even know what was turning her on more—Rylan’s capable hands, or his description of Sloan’s.
“You want to know what his dick feels like?”
She gave another wordless nod, and before she could blink, Rylan lifted her hips up, aligned his erection beneath her, and impaled her on it.
Reese cried out, but not in pain. She was soaking wet, so lust-drenched that he slid in with ease. No foreplay necessary, no sweet words. Only his thick shaft filling her, the piercing hitting a spot deep inside. It felt as good as she remembered.
As she grinded slowly against him, his eyes glazed over for a moment before focusing intently. “Where were we?” he rasped. “Right. Sloan’s dick.”
He gripped his hips to still her, but rotated his own in a circular motion that curled her toes and made her knees wobble even though she was sitting down.
“It’s harder than steel,” he told her. “Thick. Pulses when it hits your tongue. It tastes . . .” He paused for a moment, and then his lips stretched in a filthy grin. “Here. You can find out for yourself how it tastes.”
And then he kissed her, a long, drugging kiss, and holy hell, she could taste it. Her pussy clenched painfully, her clit screaming with excitement as she tasted Sloan’s salty essence on Rylan’s tongue. It was the hottest thing she’d ever experienced, and for a second she felt like she was tasting Sloan for real. Not through Rylan, but directly from the source as he groaned her name and came in her mouth. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, spurring her hips to move faster, to ride him harder.
He wrapped both arms around her, his palms sliding up and down her sweat-soaked back. “Jesus Christ,” he choked out. “You’re so tight.”
She bore down on him, pushed at his chest so he was falling onto his back, and rode him even harder. Her back arched as pleasure soared through her, the hot waves skating from her fingers to her toes, her clit to her nipples. It felt so good she could har
dly see, scarcely breathe.
Rylan gazed up at her with glittering blue eyes. “If you’re pretending it’s him you’re riding, stop,” he commanded.
The sharpness of his tone caught her off guard. Reese didn’t know if she should apologize, but truth was, she wasn’t sure if she was even picturing Sloan. She felt his presence here in this room with them, but not in place of Rylan. Along with him.
Her worries faded when Rylan’s lips curved in another grin. “You can pretend he’s here, baby. As long as you remember that I’m here too. We’re both here. My cock is inside you, Reese. It fucking belongs inside you. We can give Sloan your ass, how about that? Keep riding me and pretend Sloan is behind you, drilling your ass.”
A moan slipped out.
“You like that?” He chuckled.
She couldn’t find the strength to answer, or even to move anymore. She collapsed on his chest and Rylan took over, thrusting upward again and again, hitting that sweet spot, drawing moan after moan from her lips. One strong hand was on her back, the other tangled in her hair. He pulled hard on the long strands, and it was just what she needed—that sting of pain. In her life, there was no pleasure without pain.
The orgasm barreled through her in a violent rush, and Rylan bit her shoulder hard, bringing another jolt of pain and prolonging the blissful sensations. She was a shuddering, sweaty, whimpering mess as she lay on top of him, and he held her through the orgasm, his thrusts never slowing down, not even once.
“Coming,” he croaked, then gave one last thrust and trembled beneath her.
Reese opened her eyes to look at him. His cheeks were flushed, lips slightly parted, the muscles in his face taut as he grunted in release. She kissed him again, this time tasting not just Sloan, but Rylan too. His hunger, his need, his recklessness.
Then she closed her eyes again to savor the magic the three of them had made, if only in her mind.
13
Sloan was right about one thing—sex did clear her mind. As she sat hunched over maps with the other camp leaders, Reese was grateful she’d eased some tension yesterday, otherwise she might’ve choked someone by now. After agreeing in the last meeting that they’d attack the outposts, they were now squabbling like toddlers over who was going to take down what.