Acres, Natalie - Sex Addict [Cowboy Addiction 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)

Cowboy Addiction 2

NATALIE ACRES

Copyright © 2011

Chapter One

Kit Keesling watched his brother fuck their woman like he was angry at her tight little pussy. If the expression painted on Holly’s face told a story, she wasn’t opposed to playing rough. Hooded eyes, open mouth, and flushed cheeks created quite a picture. And those soft purrs leaving her lips rang out like a committed lover’s song.

The fantasy unfolding portrayed Holly at her best. Everything about her screamed good times—perfect tits, full lips, and a heavenly body that simply wouldn’t quit. She was a slice of temptation with a dash of extra sugar and a liberal helping of added spice. The woman coupled her God-given assets with learned traits, acquired skills the devil undoubtedly helped her perfect over the years.

Holly squirmed as Kemper pounded inside her. Kit clenched his tightly drawn fists and bit back the raging need to join them. No question, she was a spectacle to watch, someone worthy of earning a man’s hard-sprung appreciation. Her moves were impressive, better than any of those observed in past erotic topless shows.

Her looks were only a small portion of the whole glorious package. She was one sexy lady who lured in a man, used him for her own personal satisfaction, and left him with a smile on his face for hours on end.

Kemper withdrew from her body, bit off the end of a foil packet, and returned to the arching vixen faster than the speed of light. Still, the heavenly wench complained. Evidently, he took too long sheathing himself.

Holly was a demanding little thing. They’d never experienced a woman like her, which was yet another reason why they’d kept her around. Convincing her to stay was no easy task.

The lady craved excitement. She was always on the move. Since she’d remained single for the better part of her adult life, she wasn’t accustomed to being held accountable for her whereabouts, or God forbid, her actions. And no wonder.

She was something to see.

Kemper’s body was drenched in sweat. He shoved his arm under Holly’s form, bracketing a muscular limb around her waist as he lost his face in those luscious mounds.

“Oh, lover, your mouth drives me wild!” Holly’s sultry cries made Kit’s balls as heavy as uncut diamonds, but he refrained from approaching the bed. The value between his legs, or hers, would increase as Holly’s demands became too challenging for any normal man to meet.

Kit rubbed his moist lips together as he watched the loving, the wild and untamed fucking. Holly possessed a flare for sex like no other. The gal was made for screwing and apparently realized where her talents earned her the best return on her time.

If Holly were granted her way, Kit believed, she’d stay bound to a mattress. She’d take a hearty sip of cock as opposed to water in the highest heat of summer. She was good to go and ready to spread her legs on command. A simple request was all it took, and she generally made the suggestion several times a day.

Holly and Kemper made some noise. Their bodies rocked in tandem. The headboard slammed against the wall as ragged breaths resounded throughout the room. Kit’s jaw tightened as he stared straight ahead, admiring a seductress in the throes of passion.

Yep, sure enough, the warnings existed. Red flags had been waving everywhere. So smitten by their shared woman, Kit and Kemper ignored the obvious. As their lust became admiration and affections turned into something mighty close to the forbidden four-letter word, their fondness for Holly made them blind to her past.

 
Holly Hamlin had been a working girl.

After receiving an e-mail regarding her notorious history, Kit was furious with himself for getting involved with her in the first place. At the same time, he found her impossible to resist, kind of like his brother who obviously couldn’t get enough.

Kemper rose over her, tucked his forearm under her knee, and plunged forward. Holly’s light moans made Kit jerk as he stood there observing from the bedroom doorway.

Kemper thrust inside her, acting as if he had someplace he needed to be and could only reach his destination if he passed through the tightest canal this side of the Mississippi. In that case, he chose to take the long way, making sure he enjoyed the entire experience as he tapped on Mother Nature’s door with a few hard and deliberate strokes.

Kit knew all about the path he’d selected. He’d been there, traveled through that moist channel many times before. Slipping between those wet folds kicked off one hell of a journey. Holly had been their guide for well over a year. Kit understood why.

Kit vowed to love her and leave her over twelve months ago, but Holly possessed staying power. She forced a man to stand up and pay attention. Those who didn’t had something wrong with them. Either that or they were blindly in love with someone else. Even then, a lot of men gaped at Holly.

As the sounds of slapping bodies poured into the room, the moans and grunts gained momentum. Positioning changed, and in a matter of seconds, Holly shamelessly rode Kemper’s cock, working her fit form around his dick like she was playing a game and trying to win.

In fact, Holly had been playing them.

Staring at the e-mail he opened on his cell phone, Kit considered their initial introduction. Holly had been a major player in a Nashville gentlemen’s club. The owner claimed she’d been a significant earner. Kit and Kemper flipped over her after Kemper enjoyed the only public lap dance to make him lose his sensibility.

That particular night still brought a smile to Kit’s face. Even as he glared at the message on his phone screen, he fondly remembered Kemper’s embarrassment and chuckled as he recounted the words Holly had said to him. “Don’t worry, cowboy. It’s our secret. If I’d had my way, I would’ve been down on my knees licking up every last drop.” After a saucy smooch, a forbidden kiss the girls in the club typically didn’t take, she’d sashayed away.

Kit recalled how he’d itched to follow her. His balls had burned as he’d watched those sensational hips move.

Poor Kemper took a few extra minutes before he finally slid away from the bar chair where she’d left him. Grumbling, he’d said, “We need to get out of here.”

He wasn’t lying. They should’ve hightailed it home and never looked back. Instead, they grabbed hold of a vixen and toted her out the door with them.

Regardless of the anger stewing inside of him now, Kit couldn’t forget the lust that originally lured him, that profound need he first tried to defy. Finally Kit realized he and his brother were drawn to her with an unexplainable eagerness to claim her.

As Kit’s mind took him back to Nashville, Holly fucked Kemper like nobody’s business. Kit struggled to watch the point of penetration.

“For goodness sakes,” Kit muttered. Highly aroused, he mashed down on his erect penis as the length twitched under his palm, growing longer, harder.

Kemper’s dick impaled Holly’s deceptive little cunt with sudden jolts. She enticed him to thump harder, pound deeper, drawing him closer by wrapping her arms around his neck.

Kit’s mouth went dry as he envied Kemper of that very moment. Holly owned a virgin’s pussy, a snug snatch a man practically had to pry open. The beauty in that was an upgraded feature, a real treat, indeed. It was kind of like going to bed with a tease. Holly understood how to work her men, but her silky cunt felt like she’d never permitted herself to entertain one.

With the heel of his hand, Kit pressed down on his thickness again. Fuck. Oh, how she made his dick throb. There’d never been a woman he’d desired more, and there never would be again.

They’d chosen to bring Holly out of that club for a reason. At the time, Kemper claimed no other gal had ever dry-humped him all the way to wet. The vixen still held the physical ability to make them come all over themselves. She was a talented, and quite insatiable, sex kitten.

“Kemper!” Holly screamed. “Give it to me harder, lover. Deeper and faster.”

Kemper’s arms shifted as he surged forward, evidently at the start of what would soon be finished. The end, at least for Kemper, drew closer and closer.

He yanked Holly toward him. His lips covered one ripe, hard nipple.

Kit growled, narrowing his gaze on the couple as his brother brought pleasure to one of the biggest players in the business. A pro, that’s what she was. A damn pro!

He was right dang furious. How could he have been so stupid?

Kemper yelped like a man who was getting his and everyone else’s. Maybe that was part of Holly’s appeal, too. Every fellow in Nashville seemingly knew Holly, and most of them who’d met her wanted her.

Maybe he and Kemper weren’t as lucky as they’d originally thought. Perhaps they were just the only two cowboys who could afford her for longer than a minute. Ah, shit. He didn’t really mean that.

Kit glanced at his open phone once more. Ah hell. Even as he read the message again, he couldn’t overcome the inner debate, a mix of distorted feelings he should’ve ignored.

This was his luck. He could blame Kemper. It was his fault they brought her home.

Kemper insisted on having her. He couldn’t just play with her and put her back in the toy box. Oh no, he wasn’t about to leave her on display so the entire world could enjoy the eye candy. He needed to possess her, claim and keep her.

“There you go, baby,” Kemper crooned, slowing his pace. “Ride me nice and slow.”

“Fuck me,” she snapped. “Now.”

Kemper snarled. “Don’t rush me, babe.”

Holly’s gaze met Kit’s, and he saw the accepted challenge in her eyes. Bodies rolled, undulated in no particular pattern.

Kemper topped her once more. She locked her ankles behind Kemper’s back and threw herself forward, tossing her arms over his shoulders. In the process, she raked those manicured nails across his flesh until he cried out.

“Fuck!” Kemper screamed, using his forearm to swipe away the beads of perspiration dotting his forehead.

“Yes, that’s the idea when your dick is buried in my pussy.” Her hair fanned around her as she rocked her body with the motions. “Now, honey bunny. Get me off. Make me come. Use your hard cock like it was meant to be used. Screw me!”

Ah hell. Kit loved it when she talked trash. He glared down at his rigid cock and cursed himself.

What was the saying about being played by the player? He shook his head. He couldn’t remember, and it was too late now. Someone should have warned them. One of the regulars from that topless club should’ve told them to watch their backs.

That was sort of hard to do when Holly kept them flat against a mattress most of the time.

“Deeper!” Holly exclaimed, twisting her nipples.

Good Lord, Kit needed a piece of her before he exploded in his pants like a teenage boy watching porn for the very first time.

Besides, Kemper looked beat. Holly had been riding him like he was her personal pony or, at the very least, a motorized toy. If the sweat pellets rolling down Kemper’s cheek provided proof, Holly’s man-size gadget was running out of juice for his batteries.

Kemper needed to recharge. Kit wanted to expend some energy.

Kicking aside his boots, Kit removed his cowboy hat and tossed his new Stetson on the nightstand. He shrugged off his white T-shirt and stepped away from faded denim jeans.

“Scoot over,” he demanded, crawling across the mattress.

“You bet,” Holly said saucily.

“Thank God,” Kemper grumbled, withdrawing from her body and pitching a condom box in Kit’s direction. “Somebody is trying to kill me today.”

Kemper gave Holly a peck on the cheek and shook Kit’s hand. “Good luck. With the mood she’s in? You’ll be damn lucky if you leave her bed alive.”

A few minutes later, Holly was riding solo when she needed a double stuffing. She placed her hands behind her head and clucked, teasing Kit in an obvious effort to put him in a better mood.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, tipping his nipple with her tongue. “You act like you’re mad at me.” Her lips tightened against one flat disc and then another.

Her mouth stayed busy, but she never slowed the tempo set as she fucked him. She wiggled around, clenching his cock with her pussy, squeezing his dick until he swore under his breath.

“Not now. Ah, fuck!” He rammed inside her. He didn’t want to discuss his troubles. Hell no. What he needed to say was better postponed.

“Are you pouting because Kemper and I couldn’t wait?”

“Wench,” he rasped, grabbing her by the hips and throttling her, watching as his cock disappeared between her swollen folds.

“I’m your wench,” she promised, tweaking her puffy nipples, the swollen points hard enough to crack.

“There you go,” he crooned. “Play with yourself. Pull ’em for me, honey.”

She locked her top teeth over her bottom lip and toyed with her full breasts, following his direction and far exceeding his expectations. What he’d give for a pair of clamps about right then. The more she pinched and pulled, the more prominent the diamond shapes.