And he knew the answers to each of those questions as quickly as they flashed through his head. No, no, and … maybe. He’d come here knowing that sharing her meant giving her permission to want her old lover, to enjoy him, to even enjoy them equally. But maybe seeing her respond so readily to Rogan’s dominance had begun to sting just a little.
Ethan had never been that way with Mira—it just wasn’t part of their sex. But if she was going to be so receptive to commands from Rogan—hell, then she was going to have to start being the same way for him now, too.
So he still didn’t rush. And even as he ached to fuck her brains out, it excited him further to keep holding back, playing this new little game he’d just created. Taking his hard dick between fingers and thumb, he wiggled it back and forth between her ass cheeks, making her pant a little, then he slid it slowly up the center and back, like playing two long, mournful notes on a violin.
“Ethan, please. Please fuck me. You’re killing me.”
“Tell me how much you want it,” he demanded.
And she didn’t hesitate. “I want it
so, so
bad. Please, I need your cock filling me up, fucking me hard. I can’t stand it. I feel so empty now.”
Mmm, God. The object of her desire had somehow just managed to stiffen a little more at her words. And though he’d anticipated all the strange, new, intimate bonds the two of them would build this weekend, he hadn’t imagined this one: that maybe she wanted him to be a little rougher, more controlling, more dominant. And that maybe he could even
get into
making her submit, making her beg. Unlike Rogan, neither his nor Mira’s personality fell naturally into either of those slots, so he’d never even considered the idea that such games could turn them on. But he was finding out otherwise. One more surprise at Mira’s birthday party.
“Tell me you want my big, hard cock ramming into you,” he heard himself say—and his dick tightened even further at his own command.
“I do,” she whimpered. “I want your big, hard cock ramming into me more than anything. I have to have it, E. I’m begging you. Please, baby.
Please
.”
The rush of heat that had swept over Ethan a minute ago now settled into a comfortable warmth—he was finally ready to give her what she needed, and the fact was, he would enjoy it more for having made her beg.
Positioning the head of his dick at the moist opening still slightly parted from before, he curled his fingers slowly into her ass and whispered, “Ready, baby?”
“God, yes!”
She sounded so impatient now that it almost amused him, made him happy to at last give her what she craved. Then he drove into her—deep, rough.
The sound she emitted held both shock and pleasure. He didn’t usually do that, either, enter her pussy so very forcefully—but he knew she was wet and well-primed enough at the moment to take it.
And after that, he didn’t hesitate to fuck her, pounding relentlessly into that soft flesh that held him like a tight, moist glove. He loved the wild little cry she let out at each hard stroke he delivered, loved feeling how much hot pleasure he was giving her.
Him
right now, not Rogan. And he truly
was
enjoying sharing her this weekend, on many levels, but right now that felt like an important distinction—right now, it was just him and her, nobody else. Yeah, he might be sharing her, but he still needed that special connection with her, still needed to know he was the guy she was thinking about, loving, through all of this.
After he thought he’d nearly fucked her senseless, he eventually went still, taking a break, for both their sakes. Neither of them spoke, but as he leaned over, resting close to her, skin to skin, and resting inside her, too, he felt what he wanted to: that link that went beyond sex but was strengthened
by
sex.
Once he’d regained some energy, he stood upright, pulled his dick from her sweet body, and then gently turned her over and took her hands, helping her to sit up.
She looked … well fucked, her skin shiny and sticky from cheesecake, bits of it clinging to the naughty lavender lingerie he’d bought her, her hair messy, her eyes tired yet vibrant and a little wild. And he thought she was beautiful, as beautiful as he’d ever seen her—maybe just in a different way.
Following the softest urge he’d had in a while, he leaned in for a slow, gentle kiss, just letting his mouth linger on hers. Then he closed his hands over her hips and drew her to the very edge of the table, after which he slowly spread her legs until they were as far apart as they could go.
He looked down, took in her pussy, still surrounded by butterfly wings.
“Let’s take these off you,” he said on impulse then, touching the fabric at her hip. They were pretty, and sexy as hell, but in his mind the time for them had passed. He just wanted her naked now, natural. Things had turned raw quite a while ago, and somehow lace and chiffon just didn’t make sense here anymore.
She didn’t argue or ask why, just put her legs back together and lifted her ass to let him pull them off. When they were gone, he reached for the straps on her faux bra, and she helped by reaching behind her back to unhook it.
“Spread for me,” he gently commanded and she re-parted her thighs, as wide as possible, just like he’d had her before.
Yeah, looking at her pussy now—this was what he’d wanted to see a moment ago, all that tender flesh unfettered, unbound. “So pretty,” he told her, studying her there.
He kept his eyes on her cunt but sensed her looking, too, maybe wanting to see it in the same way he did.
Leaning in closer, he nudged his still erect dick at the opening in her pink folds and watched—as well as felt—it slide easily in. They both let out heated sighs. Her pussy cushioned his length from all sides, warm and slick.
As he began to fuck her again, this time he did it slowly, letting his cock slide in, then back out, lingering, feeling each languorous inch of the glide. “Watch,” he told her. “Watch me going in and out of you.”
It was around this time that he became aware of Rogan in his peripheral vision—he stood a foot or so away, and he was watching, too, still part of this. And that was okay. It had to be. Inside, he might want it to be just the two of them right now, but he’d chosen to make it so that there were three instead, and he could deal with it. In fact …
you wouldn’t be here like this, in this exact place, feeling this exact intimacy with her, if Rogan weren’t here
.
And even with Rogan present, he still remained in control of what was happening now—and he liked feeling that. Despite having let Rogan control their sex for a while, he’d still simply … never felt closer to her than he did right at this moment, after everything they’d shared so far on this weekend getaway.
“Baby, it was so hot coming in your mouth today,” he told her without weighing it. God, she’d really let him do that. Finally. He looked her in the eye, spoke slowly, deeply, from the heart. “I want all of you, every part of you, Mira, in every way.”
He continued to move his cock smoothly in and out of her slit at an almost achingly slow pace, but now their gazes were locked on each other instead of what took place below. “You
have
all of me. I promise.” Her voice slid like silk over his skin.
And he couldn’t fight the notion that maybe she knew what he was thinking, feeling—that she understood he’d gotten a little jealous of Rogan.
But whether she did or whether she didn’t, that promise of hers reassured him, made him relax. And … maybe it even served to remind him that this—this weekend, all this sex—was all about her, was supposed to be about her pleasure and nothing else. And that maybe he’d overreacted to Rogan’s take-charge attitude.
He had all of her, after all. Everything was fine here.
“What do you want right now, honey? Anything at all—it’s yours. Anything you want to do, anything you want to feel—just name it.” And he meant it. His little spurt of envy was past. Rogan’s personality sometimes just didn’t allow for putting other people first, thinking about anyone else’s needs. He should be used to that by now, and he shouldn’t have invited him to be part of this little threesome if he couldn’t handle that.
So now he just kept his gaze on Mira, urging her to tell him her deepest desires, whatever they may be. And he was going to do his best to make them a reality.
His pretty girl—who’d gone from shy lover to wild wanton and back again today, many times already—now blushed a little. It touched his heart in that moment to see that—it reminded him that no matter what happened here, no matter what she experienced, she was still his sweet Mira; they were both still the same people they’d always been. It took more than a weekend of wild sex to change who you were deep inside. And he’d known that from the start or he never would have suggested this anyway.
“Tell me,” he prodded her.
And finally, she peered into his eyes and said softly, “I want you both to kiss me all over. I want you both to touch me all over. I want you both to fuck me until I scream.”
Chapter 15
M
ira lay between them on the bed, basking in pleasures that felt at once simple yet ever so complex. Kisses from two mouths spanned her body. At the moment, Ethan’s tongue swirled around her nipple while Rogan kissed his way up the front of her thigh. Ethan’s fingertips grazed her stomach as she tried to take it all in, absorb it into her skin.
They’d been kissing her, running their hands over her, for fifteen or twenty scintillating minutes now. Certainly a much softer way of sharing her than many of the others this ménage à trois had brought about. And she loved it all. Right now, in the middle of them, she was back to feeling worshipped again, cherished.
And it would have been perfect if … well, if she weren’t struggling inside. She kept remembering the way Rogan had fucked her in the woods. The way she’d
let him
fuck her. The fact that ever since then, she’d felt closer to him than before. And the truth they all knew was that she’d felt close enough to him from the start or none of this could be happening. Even Ethan had known that.
Rogan was … the ideal bad boy. Always had been. Her mother hadn’t liked him. He’d been completely different than any other guy she’d ever dated. And from the start, she’d known he was dangerous. To her heart.
She’d just been at a point in her life when she’d been willing to take a risk, ready to throw caution to the wind. Every girl needed a bad boy once in her life and Rogan had been hers. And he’d broken her heart, as bad boys were wont to do. And she’d pulled herself together and moved on.
But now she had to ask herself—was it really possible for a guy like Rogan to change? At his very core? Could what he’d said in the woods be real, meaningful? If she suddenly gave him her whole heart, what would he do with it? Would whatever they shared last forever? Or would it turn out to be nothing more than pretty words spoken in the heat of passion?
And—God—what was she even
thinking
?
You love Ethan!
And she really, truly did.
And … mmm, right now he suckled her breast so sweetly, so deeply, as he fondled the other one in his hand. When he twirled the nipple tenderly between two fingers, a hot sigh erupted from her throat. She looked down, watched him delivering the smoldering ministrations, and remembered how gorgeously handsome he was. Not that she’d forgotten—but Rogan was so much on her mind right now, just by virtue of having been thrust back into her life when she’d least expected it, that at moments it was easy to take Ethan for granted, to forget how hot he was in his own right. Any woman would be lucky to have him.
She
was lucky to have him. After all, how many women got a gift as generous as this? Very few, she was sure.
The strange part was that if Ethan hadn’t brought Rogan here … yes, they’d be rediscovering each other this weekend, having a lovely, hot, sexy romantic time—but she’d never know the astounding depth of his love, trust, and generosity. She’d never have let out the indescribably feral new side of her sexuality—because she wouldn’t have quite known about that, either. He’d truly helped her discover, uncover, parts of herself she wouldn’t have believed were there—and not only that, but he’d helped her explore them, embrace them, too.
And yet at the same time, in order to do all that … he’d had to introduce her old lover back into the picture. The old lover who now kissed his way across her belly while cupping her mound in one possessive hand. Had Ethan had any notion, any clue, that it would bring old feelings bubbling back to the surface? Had he harbored any fear that she could end up feeling attached to Rogan all over again?
She knew that, no matter what he said, he was experiencing some jealousy now. She’d felt it in the way he’d practically pushed Rogan aside at the table a little while ago; she’d felt it in the ferocity of the fucking that had followed.
But then, she’d also understood what had brought that on. Rogan had grown more and more aggressive through the day, and then, after she’d blown out the candles on her cake, his true nature had shone through when he’d pretty much just taken over.
And she’d … simply rolled with it. For one thing, Rogan was a hard guy to say no to when he was in full take-charge mode, especially sexually. And for another … was it her place to step forward and stop things? No. She hadn’t started this. She hadn’t brought him here. And yes, once she’d accepted the idea of a full-blown ménage à trois, she’d enjoyed it more than she’d known was humanly possible—but it wasn’t her job to control it or run things. She was enjoying it, but at the same time it was … more than a little emotionally draining, and so, in ways, she was working as hard just to get
through
it as she was to enjoy it.
Part of her had been glad when Ethan had taken over. And—oh God—to her utmost surprise, she’d ended up delectably aroused by everything that had passed between the two of them once Rogan had stepped aside. She’d never before known she wanted Ethan to be a little rough with her. And maybe, after what she’d secretly done with Rogan by that wishing well, she thought she deserved it. But she’d just never imagined those particular roles working for her and Ethan so well.