Authors: Kelly Jamieson
Nate watched Krissa burst into tears and run away. He flopped face down onto the bed, the pillow almost suffocating him. The bedroom was silent other than the muffled sounds of Krissa weeping in the bathroom. Jesus Christ.
Slowly, he rolled to his side and looked at Derek, who sat there with his hand over his eyes.
“That didn’t go very well,” Nate said.
“No shit.” Derek rubbed his face, met Nate’s eyes.
“Maybe this isn’t going to work.”
“Fuck.” They both fell silent, thinking. Nate stared up at the ceiling. What the hell had just happened? Was she having second thoughts about doing this? She’d seemed pretty confident earlier. In fact, she’d seemed…eager. Hot…for him.
Nate gazed at the flickering candles. So sexy and romantic. And Jesus…so the opposite of what he’d just done. He closed his eyes against the assault of guilt, of remorse.
Yeah, sex had been mechanical for him for the last two years. And this was basically a business transaction. But Krissa…dressed in that pretty silk thing, her hair brushed, candles burning…that hadn’t been business for her.
Shit. Even as Nate cursed his stupidity, his gut cramped at the thought of actually making love to Krissa—with real emotion. That was what scared him—even more than sex with his best friend’s wife. He shut that train of thought down, did not want to go there, hadn’t gone there for years.
He covered his face with his hand. “I think…” He stopped, cleared his throat. “I think we may need to try a different approach.”
“Yeah.”
Nate sat up, pulled his knees up. He was naked in bed with his best buddy. Life was so fucking weird. “I’m gonna have to…take it slower. Maybes it would help if…if you got involved, too. Between us, we should be able to make her feel more…” Words escaped him.
He looked sideways at Derek, trying to gauge his response. Derek nodded. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
The bathroom door opened, spilling light into the room which Krissa quickly extinguished with a flick of her fingers. Candlelight shimmered on the satiny gown and her glossy hair.
Nate threw back the covers and stood. He was naked, but who cared. He walked to Krissa and without saying a word, took her in his arms.
“I’m sorry, bunny,” he murmured against her hair. He held her slender body against him, tried to show her with the hug that he cared. He couldn’t say the words but he could show her. His erection surged again, against the thin silk over her warm body. She had to feel it.
He stroked her silky hair, and held her, her arms folded between them. He rocked her gently, soothingly. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “Come on. Come back to bed.”
He released her and took her hand, led her back to the bed, her barefoot steps hesitant. He climbed onto the bed first, sat with his back against the pillows and headboard and covered his lower half with the duvet. He held out a hand to her. She extended her arm and put her small hand in his. They looked at each other. Their eyes met, and heat wrapped around him, seeped into him, warmed him. Her liquid green eyes shone in the candlelight. He dropped his gaze to her shoulders, the smooth curve of them, the jut of her collarbones, the ribs faintly visible beneath satiny skin, the shadowy hollow between her breasts revealed by the V of the gown. Gently, he pulled her toward him. She ended up in his lap, and he tipped her chin up with his knuckles.
“You’re beautiful, Krissa,” he murmured.
“Thank you.”
They sat there, silence filling the room, flickering candlelight casting a golden glow over them. Nate stared down into Krissa’s eyes, trying to assure her that it was okay. He stroked a last tear from under her eye with his thumb. He looked at her mouth, vulnerable and soft. Bent his head lower, his mouth nearing hers. She held his gaze, and her pretty lips parted. He was so close he could feel her warm breath sighing in and out. His eyelids felt heavy and he let them droop closed as he closed the distance and touched his mouth to hers.
It was the softest, gentlest kiss, a brush of his mouth on hers, then again. Then he deepened the pressure, opened his mouth against hers and he tilted his head for a better angle. Their tongues touched, tentative, questioning, warm and wet, and they kissed again, and again, long, delicious kisses, lush licks, clinging lips. Small whimpers came from Krissa’s throat.
“Oh, Krissa.” Nate lifted his mouth from hers to mutter her name, slid his hands into her hair and held her head. “Kiss me, Krissa.”
And she did. Over and over, shifting closer. Her hands slid up his chest and held onto his shoulders; her fingertips stroked his neck. His hands explored her body, over the silk, caressed her waist and hips and thighs.
Oh fuck. Fuck me. Nate was lost. Her mouth destroyed him, soft and warm and eager, kissing him back like she was starving for him. Her desire for him ignited something inside him, a spark turning into a blazing fire, heating him from the inside out, making him gasp.
“Beautiful, Krissa,” he murmured against the sensitive skin of her throat. He covered the pulse fluttering in her throat in an open-mouthed kiss, absorbing the beat of her heart. “Isn’t she, Derek?”
“Yeah.” Derek’s voice was low and rough. “Beautiful.”
“I’m sorry about earlier,” Nate said, his throat aching. “I didn’t understand…Now, we’re both going to make love to you.” Nate stroked her bare thigh. “We’re going to make it good for you. Right, Derek?”
“Right.”
Derek moved behind her and put his hands on her shoulders while Nate kissed her mouth. Then Derek kissed the side of her neck.
It was sensation overload, a man in front of her, a man behind her, both kissing her. Heat surrounded her. She lifted one hand from Nate’s hard chest and reached for Derek’s head, digging her fingers into his short hair. She tipped her head, giving him access to the tender flesh of her neck, while Nate devoured her mouth. She moaned.
The pain in her heart subsided at the affection she felt surrounding her. This was more like Nate…gentle and considerate. She wasn’t sure what had happened earlier, but it had been so…sleazy. She couldn’t bear it.
The hurt was quickly fading, replaced by arousal, by shimmering pleasure sliding over her skin. Her breasts felt heavy and achy, her nipples burning. She became lost in the sensuality of four hands on her body, two mouths kissing her everywhere.
Nate’s mouth devoured her in hungry, passionate kisses, his tongue licking inside her mouth in long, lush strokes. She met him with her own, stroked her tongue along his bottom lip. Needy little sounds worked their way out from deep inside her.
Derek’s hands drifted down her upper arms and cupped her breasts through the silk and she swelled into his palms. “Love your tits, honey,” he whispered.
Nate’s hands settled on her hips and he lifted his mouth from hers to suck in air. They gazed at each other. The sharp insistent ache between her legs told Krissa she was wet there. She felt shaken by the intensity of Nate’s kisses, by the wild emotion he’d aroused within her.
Derek’s mouth continued to caress her neck and shoulders with soft kisses, licks and little sucks of her flesh, his hands on her breasts. Then Derek pushed the chemise down lower.
Both men had seen her breasts before. That night in the hot tub she’d taken great pleasure in teasing Nate with them, knowing how Derek liked to watch that. But this felt different, both of them touching her.
Nate gazed at her breasts, at Derek’s hands covering them. Derek cupped the sides, pushed them together, creating deep cleavage. “She has gorgeous breasts,” Derek murmured. “Suck them.” A low rough sound came from Krissa’s throat and she watched Nate’s face as he studied her curves, the awe and desire, watched as his face came closer and kissed one tight nipple.
Krissa’s entire body twitched hard at that touch on her sensitive nipple and when Nate kissed it again, licked it slowly, then took it in his mouth, she cried out. Derek held both her breasts as if in offering, and the firm pressure of his hands assuaged the ache. Nate sucked hard on one nipple, then the other, swirling his tongue around and dragging the edge of his teeth over the tight bud. Hot streamers of sensation shimmered a path from nipples to womb. Her body ached and flowed with need. Pleasure sparkled through her nerve endings, arousing her to a fever of delight.
They played with her breasts for a long time, with murmured compliments and moans of pleasure, until she was writhing and out of her mind with lust. She leaned back against Derek’s chest, weak and shaky. Then Nate tugged the chemise down further from where it crumpled around her waist. She stretched her legs out and lifted her hips off the bed, pushing against Derek, and the scrap of silk disappeared.
She had taken the trouble to prepare for the evening, waxing and shaving. Nate stroked her smooth legs, drew in a breath as he studied the neat triangle of dark hair above her slit. He stroked a finger down the crease where thigh met hip, satiny bare.
Derek wrapped his arms around her, across her tummy and she turned her head against his shoulder to look up at him. He kissed her, slow and warm. “Damn, you’re hot, baby,” he whispered against her mouth.
They were doing it. All three of them. It felt right. It felt special and loving.
Nate pressed a kiss to the puff of curls between her legs, and she felt him inhale. God, that was sexy. Her thighs parted involuntarily, just a bit, enough for him to slip a hand between. He stayed like that, kissing around her groin, her thighs, his hand clasped between them.
Derek played with her nipples again, tweaking them with his fingers, pulling at them until they felt hot and glowing. She looked down at herself, breasts full and swollen, nipples cherry red. She groaned.
Then Nate pushed her thighs further apart, and he scooted down on the bed. Languorously, she spread her legs for him. He murmured appreciatively, kept kissing and licking her thighs, moving closer and closer to her centre.
“You smell delicious, Krissa.” Her clit pulsed and her vagina ached.
“Lick her,” Derek rasped near her ear.
“Mmm.” Nate parted her with his thumbs and her hips lifted off the bed.
“Oh, God,” she muttered. She leaned her head back on Derek’s shoulder, let him cup her breasts while Nate licked his way through her folds. His tongue pointed and dug into her opening, a teasing taste of what she needed, only she needed more, more…more. He kissed her folds, little suckling kisses, gentle and delicious.
“Sweet, Krissa. You taste sweet, like honey and peaches.”
She arched with pleasure. God, this man knew how to give oral sex! She felt disloyal to Derek thinking it, but Derek’s technique was aggressive, with fast, hard tongue movements. Nate was slow and luxurious, tender kisses and gentle sucking. He pulled her swollen flesh into his mouth, gently released it, then moved to the other side and did the same. Sensation burned and twisted inside her. Then he moved his mouth up and suckled his way up to her throbbing clit. When he finally took it into his mouth, tugging and nibbling it at, his teeth holding it while he licked over it, she exploded against his mouth.
She cried out, body arching, spasming, Derek holding her down. She dug her heels into the mattress, pressed up into Nate’s mouth, felt herself flood with wetness, hot pleasure sliding from his mouth, radiating out to her fingertips and toes, sweeping up into her hairline.
“Jesus,” Nate muttered against her pussy, still giving her little licks and sucks, drawing out every last quiver of delight until she lay limp between them.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” she mumbled, unable to move even enough to raise her eyelids. Her chest heaved, heart raced.
They both gently stroked her body, Nate’s attention on her hips and legs, Derek’s hands sliding up and down her arms and shoulders.
“Now you’re ready,” Nate said, satisfaction evident in his voice.
“Ready for a nap,” she muttered. She rolled away from both of them face down on the bed, still trying to catch her breath. But they weren’t about to leave her alone. Hands stroked her back, over her ass, the back of her thighs, where she was excruciatingly sensitive. Skin tingled, body shivered. She tucked a fist against her mouth, eyes squeezed shut.
Their touch eased her, comforted her, then aroused her again. She felt the aching renewed between her legs, rolled her hips against the bed. “That’s it,” Nate whispered, and it must have been his hands that slipped between her thighs again, parted her legs. He tested her wetness, fingers sliding slickly through her pussy. “God, Krissa.”
She was ready. She ached for it, needed to be filled, and when hands rolled her over to her back, she let them. The two men knelt beside her, one on either side. Their swollen cocks jutted out over her tummy. She loved them both.
She reached for them, one in each hand, gave a gentle tug and brought forth moans from both men. She wanted to taste and feel them in her mouth, to suck on them and bring them that pleasure. But she needed a hard cock inside her, now. Maybe later they could play some more…
Derek withdrew, perhaps sensing the time had come when Nate and Krissa had to do this alone. He kissed Krissa’s mouth before settling back on the pillows to watch, fist on his hard penis.
Krissa gazed up at Nate. He met her eyes and they shared a long look. Words of love came to her lips, but she held them back.
She couldn’t love Nate. She loved her husband. This wasn’t about love.
Except…it was all about love.
Krissa knew herself well enough to understand that sex could never be just about sex for her. Earlier, it had felt wrong. There’d been no kissing, no pretty words, no murmurs of pleasure. It had been cold and mechanical. Even more mechanical than it had been with Derek lately. And she couldn’t do it. Now…she couldn’t not do it, they’d excited her to such a fevered peak, the need inside her a spike of hot hunger.
She wanted to touch Nate, wanted to give him pleasure too, so she reached for him, curled her fingers around his cock. God, he was big, thick and long with a beautifully shaped head. He pulsed in her hand, soft over hard. He groaned at her touch.
Her mouth watered with the desire to suck on him. She would. But right now…she parted her legs wider, tugged him closer. He put his hand over hers to guide himself into her. He paused with the crown of his penis just touching her as if suddenly mindful of what they were about to do.
Krissa’d completely lost the fact that they were trying to make a baby and when it seeped into her consciousness, Nate poised above her, emotion swept over her. Hope bubbled inside her. Desire swamped her. And fear clamped down on her—not fear of doing it, but fear that it wouldn’t work when she’d put such high hopes on this. Everything commingled inside her, desire winning out, and she knew she wanted this more than anything. Did she want a baby? Or did she want Nate? She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them, unwilling to answer that question. “Do it,” she whispered.
He gave a short nod, pushed inside her. The sensation was exquisite, and Krissa’s eyes fell closed, her neck arched. He filled her up, filled the empty, needy ache, touched something deep inside her. He lifted her legs, bent her knees and pushed them back, deepening his stroke, the pleasure an acute point of heat inside her.
She opened her eyes and blinked up at him, gratified by both the hunger and ecstasy on his face. She wanted to please him, too, wanted this to be good for him, for how good he’d made it for her after their rough start. She lifted her hips, took him deeper, squeezed around him and he let out another long moan.
He released her legs, and lowered his body over hers, kissing her tender nipples, kissing her chest between her breasts, and then her mouth, deep, reaching, open-mouthed kisses. He inhaled her breath, licked her mouth, nipped at her bottom lip. “Want this to be good for you, baby,” he whispered.
She kissed him back, wanted to absorb him, take in every bit of him. “It is good.” She wrapped her arms around his broad back, strong and hard, then curled her legs around him, too, let him drive into her.
“Want you to come again.” He slid a hand between their bodies and found her clit, still sensitive from her first orgasm. He stroked over it.
“Yes. Yes…ah.” Sensations combined, whipped through her like wildfire, his fingers outside her, his cock thrusting deep inside her. Pleasure twisted around and around inside her tighter, higher, until colors burst behind her eyelids and she arched hard against him. She cried out, dug her fingers into his shoulders, her heels into his back, holding him there as she felt him come, too, in hard, weighty pulses inside her.
“Fuck.” His muttered word in her ear made her tighten even more around him, and he pulsed on and on.
She stroked her hand down his back, slick with perspiration. His breath warmed her neck in hard exhalations.
Nate’s heavy heat crushed her into the bed, but she floated—drifted on a blissful high. That had been spectacular. She hugged him tighter, pressed a kiss to his shoulder.
He rolled to the side away from Derek onto his back and covered his face with one forearm. His chest still rose and fell rapidly. Krissa turned her head on the pillow to look at him, watch him. As consciousness seeped back into her, she turned her head the other way to look at Derek.
He lay there, still stroking his hard cock, eyes hot, mouth open. She reached a hand out and clasped his. His fingers tightened on hers. Their eyes met.
“I want you to suck me,” he said.
She nodded, squeezed his hand, rolled to her knees beside him. She took him in her hands, stroked him up, over the head, moisture there slicking the way, down, up. Her hair trailed over his thighs as she bent lower.
Derek reached a hand out, gathered her hair back, and she realized he’d done it so both he and Nate could watch her take him in her mouth. Her womb contracted, heat spreading from it through her body, and she licked then sucked Derek’s cock. Wetter. She needed it wetter. She lifted her mouth, let saliva drip onto his cock, swirled it around with her tongue. Both men drew in sharp breaths.
She took him deeper, as deep as she could, swallowing him, letting him nudge the back of her throat, sucked hard on every up stroke, circled her tongue around him.
Derek’s hands tightened in her hair. God, she loved that tingle in her scalp, that pleasure-pain. She bobbed her head up and down on his shaft, faster, bringing a groan from him. She slid her hand down between his hot thighs, cupped his balls, drawn up tight against his body. He moaned again, and she looked up over his body at his face, eyes closed, head back, mouth open in an ecstatic pose.
Her eyes swiveled as far as they could to glance at Nate, who watched with a heated gaze. Their eyes met briefly, and then she felt his hands on her, stroking her back, her waist her hips, her ass.
Her heart swelled at his touch, at the gentleness of it, at the fact that he hadn’t just spilled his sperm into her and been done. Then Derek’s body tightened, spasmed. “I’m coming, babe. God!” Hot liquid filled her mouth, his sharp taste flowing over her tongue and throat. She sucked every drop from him, then slowly slid her mouth off him, pausing for a last lick.
“Mmm, babe, thank you.” He tugged her hair so she lay down between the two men. Her mouth burned from being stretched so wide, so long, but it felt good. She closed her eyes, breathing fast, one hand on Derek’s chest, the other on Nate’s hard abdomen. Nate covered her hand with his.
Sleep wanted to take her away and she was slipping into it when she felt Nate move beside her to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed.
She opened her eyes and rolled toward him, put her hand on his back. “Where’re you going?”
He turned, gave her a crooked smile as he stood. “Back to my room.”
She shook her head. She stretched her hand toward him. “No. Stay.” Their eyes met. “Please.”
He hesitated, glanced at Derek behind her, then gave a short nod, took her hand and slid back into bed with them.
Nate awoke in bed with Krissa. He turned his head on the pillow to regard her sleeping form, mouth soft, lashes feathery on her cheeks. Derek was gone and Nate lifted his wrist to glance at the watch he still wore. Almost eight.
Derek always left early, and had made no exception today even though he was leaving his wife in bed with another man.
Nate rubbed his chest. A tangle of emotions writhed inside him like snakes in a pit, making his stomach jump. Images of last night played through his mind, Krissa’s kisses, her beautiful face as he made her come. He recalled the tight warm feel of her around him, how sublime and perfect it had been.
Something had torn loose inside him and was unraveling. It scared him.
Krissa’s eyes fluttered open and caught him staring at her. She blinked. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
They lay there, close enough to touch, except the duvet had wrapped itself around Nate and created a barrier between their naked bodies.
Krissa reached a hand out and covered his on his chest. “Thank you.”
His heart constricted. He wished he’d gotten up and scrammed out of her bedroom before she’d awoken. “No need.”
“Yes, there is,” she said softly, fingers tightening on his. “Thank you for making that so good for me.”
Jesus. His eyes burned. And it wasn’t from bright light, because the room was almost dark, a faint pearly light making its way around the shades over the window.
“Yeah, that was pretty good,” he managed to say, then threw back the duvet and rolled out of bed. “Better go shower.”
He walked out without looking back at her, because he had a feeling if he did, he’d never leave that bed.
He lathered up in the shower, couldn’t resist dragging a sudsy hand over his cock. More action than he’d seen in quite some time, and yet he could go again. Thinking about Krissa’s sweet pussy made him hard again. He circled his fingers around his cock, slid them up, back down…then realized he couldn’t jerk off in the shower. He had to keep his sperm for Krissa, because they were going to be doing it again that night. It only took once, but she’d been adamant that two or three times during the period she was ovulating was better.
So he’d get some relief. He just had to wait. He put both hands against the shower wall and hung his head. Water poured down on him, ran off his head and shoulders in rivulets, into his face, stinging his eyes. He stayed like that for a long time, until he could force himself to turn off the water. He couldn’t hide in the shower all damn day.
As was becoming usual, he and Krissa ate breakfast together in the bright kitchen, sharing the paper. When she took it from him to read him the sports scores, he held on to it, not wanting to need her for anything, but she tugged and, unless he wanted the newspaper ripped in half, he had to let go.
She read him the scores, and he didn’t say thank you. Barely said two words. He felt her scowl at him. “Think I’ll go for a walk on the beach,” he said, standing and folding the paper. And like the jerk he was, he left his plate and mug on the table.
He strode out onto the deck. Fog. The damp air cooled his lungs as he inhaled deeply. The thick fog hid the ocean from view, but he could smell the salty, fishy tang, and he could hear the rhythmic whoosh of waves onto the shore.
He jogged down to the sand and then strolled along the beach, looking for his favorite rock to sit on, glad he’d worn jeans because of the chill in the air. The fog created a weird feeling, a feeling of being alone even though someone could be standing twenty feet away.
He sat down, drew his knees up and encircled them with his arms. The fog dampened sounds, the ocean only a hushed cadence. He couldn’t see the homes behind him, couldn’t see the ocean in front of him.
He was alone.
And hadn’t that pretty much been his goal for the last two years? Not to need anyone, not to get involved, because that just got messy and the feelings that simmered down deep inside him had to be kept there.
But today they were stirred up, roiling, threatening to boil over. Last night had pulled some sort of plug within him that he’d carefully kept closed up, releasing things he didn’t want loose.
His gut churned almost to the point of nausea. Looking down, he saw a seashell in the sand. He reached for it, brushed the sand off it. He held it in his hand and stared at it. It was perfect—peachy pink, still whole, the two halves joined in the middle. Empty. Lifeless.