No Limits

by Nicki Bennett

  Kit let Devon position him as he pleased. It didn’t matter to him how they configured their bodies as long as he could still get his hands and lips on Devon. When Devon’s mouth closed over the tip of his cock, Kit moaned, nudging one of Devon’s thighs so he could reach the treasures hidden between them. As soon as they parted, he dipped his head, licking at the heavy sac.

  Devon pressed back into the comfort of Jonathan’s embrace, his purr of pleasure around Kit’s shaft turning into a groan when Kit lapped wetly at his bollocks. At the same time, Jonathan’s hands slid lower, his lips trailing a meandering path down Devon’s spine as his fingers followed the contours of his splayed legs.

  Reaching the upper curve of Devon’s buttocks, Jonathan let one hand stray for a moment to brush over the top of Kit’s head, lovingly ruffling the tousled hair. He glided his fingers down Kit’s smooth cheek, lingering at the place where Kit’s mouth met Devon’s flesh, the link between the three of them so strong in that instant he felt awed by it. Sliding lower, Jonathan pressed his lips to the place his hand had been, overcome with love for them.

  Kit shifted, his lips following Jonathan’s for a moment. He knew they needed to make this encounter about Devon, knew Jonathan felt the same way though they had not discussed it, but the sense of rightness when Jonathan’s mouth met his on Devon’s body was too powerful to let go immediately. He tangled his tongue with Jonathan’s as they teased the man between them.

  The two sets of hands and lips moving over Devon, when his emotions had already been set on edge, were rapidly fraying his control. The two mouths meeting around his bollocks made him lift his head in shock, and the sight of Kit and Jonathan kissing with his flesh still between them was almost enough to send him off. He moved his free hand over their joined heads, caressing whatever skin he could reach until the pleasure became too intense to resist. “Too much,” he gasped, arching back to try to pull away. “Too soon.”

  Kit disengaged from Jonathan’s mouth at Devon’s words, lifting his head to peer up at him. “No such thing.” He skimmed his lips across Devon’s thigh. “Let us love you.”

  Jonathan had relinquished Kit’s mouth regretfully but found it equally alluring to nip his way up Devon’s buttocks, spreading them with his hands to lave the crease between them. He teased his tongue at the entrance he shortly planned to claim, circling it until it pulsed against him before plunging as deeply as he could into the smoky depths.

  A cry of pleasure tore from Devon’s lips. He thrust into the contact, trying to draw the probing muscle even deeper, but it wasn’t enough. “Please, Jon,” he gasped, needing more of that searing fullness. “Ah, Jesus, fuck me!”

  There was nothing Jonathan wanted more at that moment, but he ignored Devon’s increasingly frantic pleading and spent another few delicious minutes stretching Devon’s entrance with his tongue, adding a saliva-wet thumb to the clenching passage. He scrabbled blindly under the pillow until his hand closed on the tube of gel they’d learned to always keep within reach. He slicked some quickly over his eager cock, adding a generous dollop to his hand before pulling his mouth away and working his second thumb in its place, stretching the entrance between them. “Are you ready for me, Devon?” Jonathan asked hoarsely, resting his head on his lover’s sweat-sheened back while he moved his hips into position. “Ready to feel me love you?”

  Kit paused, watching Jonathan prepare Devon, the sight as powerfully arousing as if Jonathan’s hands were on him instead. When Jonathan shifted and started to slide into Devon’s tight arse, Kit moved as well, shifting lower on the bed so he could reach the place where his lovers joined. He flicked his tongue out to savor their combined tastes.

  Devon panted as Jonathan thrust into him, filling him with the hot friction he craved. When Kit’s tongue lapped over his overstretched flesh, his cock jumped against the smooth skin that pressed over it. “Good,” he gasped, “so bloody fuckin’ good… need more….” He closed his fist around Kit’s length, pumping it as he swiped his tongue wetly over its tip, too lost in the haze of his impending orgasm to do any more than taste everywhere he could reach.

  Jonathan spread his legs wider to let Kit’s head settle between them, bending his knees to open as fully as he could to Kit’s seductive mouth. His hips jutted in small, tight thrusts, the movement just enough to drag the head of his cock over Devon’s sweet spot with every pulse. The rhythmic squeeze of Devon’s muscle around him and the hot, wet lap of Kit’s tongue at the base of his shaft were quickly bringing him to his own climax. He bit into the hard muscle of Devon’s shoulder, trying to hold back until his lovers were ready to come with him.

  Kit had no idea if Devon had anything in mind when he asked for more, but it planted an idea in his head. Sliding down toward Devon’s feet so he could see what he was doing, he pressed a finger against the tight aperture that stretched to welcome Jonathan’s cock. Moving that way took him out of the reach of Devon’s mouth, but he didn’t even care. Not if it meant giving Devon what he needed.

  A sound that was almost a whimper escaped Devon when Kit’s cock slid out of the reach of his tongue. He tried to keep stroking the slickened shaft through his fist, but his grasp weakened when a wet digit worked its way alongside Jonathan’s cock, the added fullness stretching him to the breaking point. With a hoarse shout, Devon’s muscles contracted around the insistent friction, his bollocks spasming as he came without his cock being touched.

  Kit’s finger pressing against Jonathan’s sensitized shaft and Devon’s passage convulsing around him brought Jonathan to his own fierce climax, filling Devon with the slickness of his release.

  The incredible tightness that accompanied Devon’s spasming around his finger and Jonathan’s cock caught Kit off guard. He hadn’t thought that far ahead, and he groaned with the thought of what Jonathan might have felt, of what it might feel like on his cock instead of his finger. He slid his finger free, licking at the traces of Jonathan’s come on the slick digit. His cock throbbed like a toothache. He reached down to take himself in hand only to have his arm swatted away.

  Devon wasn’t about to let Kit see to himself after his two lovers had taken such good care of him. With a low growl, he replaced Kit’s hand with his own, enjoying the way the beads of fluid from the tip allowed his hand to slide easily on the hard shaft.

  Kit moaned when Devon started to stroke him. He was already so close from all that had come before. It wouldn’t take much more for him to climax. When Jonathan reached over to join Devon in pleasuring Kit, that was all it took. Kit’s back arched and his cock jerked in his lovers’ hands, his seed spilling out over both fists as he shouted his release and collapsed onto the bed next to the men he loved with every beat of his heart.

  Smiling at the strength of Kit’s climax, Devon and Jonathan continued to stroke his skin gently until his eyes opened again and he smiled back at them.

  “Turn around here,” Devon urged, wanting to be able to hold Kit properly.

  Kit scooted around on the bed until his head was facing the same direction as his lovers’. He moved willingly into Devon’s open arms, while Jonathan’s arms closed around both of them from behind.

  “He can’t touch us,” Kit murmured, his grip tightening. “He has no power that we don’t give him.”

  Devon wasn’t sure that was completely true, but he didn’t want to start another discussion tonight, didn’t want to let any thought of Robert taint this moment. They were all tired from the long day and the emotional scene downstairs. He was caught between two of the most wonderful men in the world. He was not going to ruin that by dwelling on things he couldn’t change. Tomorrow was soon enough for the worries that remained.

  Chapter 4: Playing with Fire

  KIT WALKED past the door to the second bedroom that served as Jonathan’s office, surprised to hear the clatter of the keyboard. None of them were technology junkies, and their computers rarely saw any use, given how little they were home. Glancing inside, he saw Jonathan hunched over the k
eys, a frown on his face. “Whatcha doing, Jon?” he asked, stepping inside the room.

  Jonathan ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face before swiveling the chair to look at Kit. “I thought I’d try to figure out who Robert is. We know Devon met him on a movie, so I thought….” He shrugged, his cheeks flushing a little. “I thought if I pulled up a list of Devon’s movies in IMDB, I might be able to find one with Robert somebody in it….” He shrugged again. “Maybe it’s a crazy idea, but it’s all I could think of.”

  “Can I help?” Kit asked, thinking that was the most sensible idea Jonathan’d had since the last time he suggested having sex. “I don’t know how it’ll help us, but at least we’ll know who’s haunting him.”

  “The first step in preparing for battle is knowing your enemy,” Jonathan countered. This might not be a war like the battles they were filming, but he was more than prepared to face down the man who had dealt so much pain—physical and emotional—to Devon. “I guess we just start looking through the cast lists of Devon’s films.” He clicked on a title at random, and a new page of publicity photos, plot summary, and cast credits appeared.

  Kit nodded. He supposed this was a battle. A battle for Devon’s mind and heart. “Well,” he said when the page came up, “I guess we just have to go through each one until we find a costar named Robert.”

  “Devon said it was years ago. Let’s just work our way backward.” About a third of the way down the list, they hit pay dirt—Robert was the first name listed. Jonathan whistled softly and glanced over his shoulder at Kit. “This has to be him. No wonder Devon’s still intimidated by him!”

  Kit shivered, thinking about the other actor. Every photo of him Kit had ever seen oozed menace. Maybe some of that came from the kind of roles he often took, but even the candids had the same aura. Given what Devon had said about their relationship, Kit could understand his fear. “He also mentioned Blaine. Was there a Blaine on that set too?” he asked.

  Jonathan scanned the list of cast names. “No,” he said slowly, “but Devon said he’d been with Robert before him. Maybe Robert met him on another movie?” He clicked on Robert’s name, pulling up an even lengthier list of films. “Let’s see who he acted with before Devon.” Jonathan clicked on the entry prior to Devon’s film, his face twisting into a scowl. “Bingo! There’s Blaine, all right.” His expression softened as he read the next name on the cast list. “Well now, look at that! It’s been too long since I talked to Mariselle.” Looking up at Kit again, Jonathan smiled. “We worked together on All the Right Reasons. Let me see if I still have her number somewhere. I’ll bet she’d be willing to tell us whatever she knows about Robert.” The name came out sounding like a curse.

  Kit smiled, Jonathan’s enthusiasm rubbing off on him. Not for the first time, he was glad Jonathan had been around Hollywood for a while. It seemed those contacts were about to come in useful. He only hoped Jonathan had kept the actress’s number.

  It only took a few moments for Jonathan to pull out his phone and scroll through his contacts. He grinned at Kit, then checked the clock. “Good, it’s not too early to call LA. Let’s see if we can get in touch with her right now.” He added the international access code before letting the phone dial the number, trying to keep from tapping his fingers impatiently as the connection worked its way across the Atlantic. Finally, the ringing stopped and a feminine voice answered. “Hello, Mari? It’s Jonathan…. Yeah, it has!… You have? That’s great to hear, thanks…. No, I’m still on location in England. Actually, I was calling to ask a favor.”

  Kit listened as Jonathan caught up with his friend and former costar. From the length of the conversation and the hardening of Jonathan’s features, Kit surmised that the actress did indeed have things to tell them. When Jonathan hung up, Kit asked, “Well, what did she say?”

  “She’s definitely not a fan,” Jonathan answered, rubbing the back of his neck. “The first thing she told me was not to get messed up with him, even before I could ask her anything specific. Apparently Robert makes a habit of picking out someone new on every film to latch on to. He dug his claws pretty deep into Blaine, from what Mariselle saw.” He shook his head and reached for Kit, needing the reassuring warmth to counteract the chill that had settled over him as his friend described the atmosphere on the set. “I don’t think there’s any doubt that he’s Devon’s Robert.”

  Kit nodded, wrapping his arms around Jonathan to both give and receive comfort. “So what do we do now that we know?”

  Jonathan sighed and pressed a kiss to Kit’s temple. “I don’t know, kitten, but at least we know what we’re up against. I suppose we just try to make sure he doesn’t get anywhere near Devon while he’s here.”

  “That’s easy enough. Devon’s rarely alone anyway, and all we’d have to do is drop a word in the ears of the other knights and they’d help too,” Kit responded with more calm than he was feeling. He was pretty much adrift here, but he knew one thing without a doubt. The Knights of the Round Table would look out for their own.

  “I think we’d better handle it ourselves if we can,” Jonathan said. “I don’t think this is something Devon would want to get around, and anything we’d say to the others might open him up to questions he’d rather not answer.”

  Kit hadn’t thought about that. “Well, you and I can still make sure he isn’t alone. That way, if Robert does come on set and try anything, Devon will have at least one of us there with him.”

  “We’ll have to be sure we’re not too obvious about it,” Jonathan cautioned. “He won’t take it well if he thinks we’re babysitting him.”

  Kit grinned at that. “Oh, I think we can convince him we’re not just babysitting.” He ran his hand down Jonathan’s chest. “This doesn’t feel like babysitting, does it?” He leaned over and nipped at Jonathan’s lips. “Or this?”

  Pulling Kit closer, Jonathan deepened the kiss. “This feels like something that will make us late for makeup,” he murmured regretfully.

  Kit couldn’t argue with that, but he was still reluctant to pull away. “This is also what’s going to keep Devon completely unaware that we’re hounding his steps.”

  “TO ME it seemed exceedingly strange,” Lancelot said. “Maybe it was only a test, but almost I should have said that she was tempting us.” Devon stared defiantly at the rest of the knights scattered around the Camelot set.

  “Speak no evil of the bearer of the Holy Grail!” Kit protested in Percival’s elegant tones. “We must undertake a quest for the holy relic. It must be found!”

  Devon turned to face the younger knight, his gaze sweeping over the camera crew to gauge Niall’s reaction to the scene. The director was chatting with a group of men who stood beside him watching the interchange, and Devon froze when he recognized one of the visitors.

  Robert.

  “I shall deny none of you the right to undertake this quest, my valorous knights.” Jonathan imbued his line with all the sorrow Arthur felt at Merlin’s prophecy that the Grail quest would lead to the dissolution of the Round Table. He waited a beat for the response Lancelot was supposed to make, vowing to undertake the search. When Devon didn’t reply, he glanced at him cautiously, hoping to salvage the take. “Surely the most perfect knight in the realm shall succeed in this quest,” he ad-libbed, trying to catch Devon’s eye; but when Lancelot still didn’t return with his line, Jonathan followed his gaze to the cluster of men talking with Niall, who was so absorbed he’d forgotten to stop the cameras. “Fuck,” Jonathan muttered, glancing back at Devon. He’d come on set after all.

  “Cut,” Niall called when the missed line finally penetrated his awareness. “Let’s try that again, shall we?”

  Given a chance to come out of character for a moment, Kit glanced around the set, his gaze landing on the unfamiliar silhouette behind Niall. The man stepped forward a little and Kit tensed. His eyes went immediately to Devon. Seeing his distress, he reached for Devon’s hand with no concern for any possible audience. “He
can’t touch us,” he murmured, trying to remind Devon of their earlier conversation. “Not unless we let him.”

  Kit’s touch and his quiet words broke the spell that had held Devon paralyzed. He squeezed Kit’s hand for an instant, his gaze flashing to Jonathan’s reassuring smile. Back in control of his emotions, he pulled Lancelot’s courage around him like a cloak and focused on Arthur, waiting for Niall’s cue to begin again. “I too swear to undertake this sacred quest,” he carried on with his line. “I shall search every corner of the land to find this holy relic and return it to Camelot.”

  Jonathan answered with Arthur’s lines, and the scene continued, but from the corner of his eye, he watched the group of men with Niall until they left the set.

  Having resumed his mark, Kit waited for the scene to end. He had a few choice words to say to their unwanted guest. The next time he glanced over to where he had seen Robert, though, the other man was gone.

  It was a good thing Lancelot was supposed to be on edge with eagerness to depart on the Grail quest in the afternoon’s scenes, because Robert’s appearance had left Devon badly shaken. He searched the set at each break in filming, but Niall wrapped for the day without the visitors making a reappearance. Devon knew his former lover wouldn’t be satisfied with just surprising him on set. He dreaded seeing Robert waiting outside the makeup trailer or leaning against his car in the parking lot, even though he knew his fears weren’t reasonable.

  Once out of makeup, the three of them made it to Devon’s house without incident, and Devon opted to try to rid himself of some of the day’s tension with a shower while Kit and Jonathan picked up Chinese takeaway for dinner. He’d just finished drying and had wrapped a fresh towel around his waist when the shrill ring of the telephone cut along his nerve endings. Knowing who it would be before he answered, he clenched his jaw and picked up the receiver. “Aldridge,” he snapped.