Blake, Abby - Mikayla's Family [A Bride for Eight Brothers 6] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever) (8 page)

* * * *

Lachlan watched his wife’s perfect ass turn an appealing shade of pink. He loved everything about her, from her sassy attitude for life, to her willingness to let them dominate her in the bedroom, and to her ability to tell them to go to hell when she felt it necessary. He simply couldn’t imagine a future without Mikayla.

She moaned, shaking hard as her orgasm spun closer. He wanted to keep her here, like this, kissing Brock wildly as he smacked her ass over and over and over, but it was her breathless plea that tipped him over the edge. He smacked her swollen pussy lips, her juices coating his hand as he massaged her folds before pinching her clit.

She gasped, shaking uncontrollably as her climax took hold. She wrenched her mouth away from Brock’s, keening a low cry as her pussy convulsed. Lachlan pushed his fingers into her wet heat, thrusting hard and fast, extending her orgasm, wringing every drop of pleasure from her body. Finally she collapsed against Brock, breathing hard, panting words of love in a quiet voice.

“We love you, too, baby girl,” Brock answered for both of them.

Brock pulled her more fully over his body, pressing his cock against her pussy, seeming content to slide against the slippery flesh without penetrating her. Lachlan turned to the bedside table where he’d dropped the lube earlier, drizzled a generous amount on his hand, and then smoothed it down her crease. She moaned excitedly as his finger penetrated her tight ring, pushing back eagerly as he finger-fucked her ass.

Moving against them now, seemingly unable to hold still, Mikayla wriggled trying to impale herself on Brock’s erection. Brock laughed as he moved his cock away from temptation and pinned her arms against the small of her back.

“No, baby girl,” he said with a stern grin. “I want to watch your face as Lachlan fucks your ass.”

She groaned at Brock’s wicked words, and her anus squeezed tight around Lachlan’s finger. He thrust another into her, smiling as Brock released her arms and helped Mikayla lever herself onto hands and knees. Moaning, she began pushing back against his insistent invasion. Lachlan removed his fingers, quickly lubed his cock, and pressed his erection deep into her ass. He groaned with her this time, wanting to pound into his wife, fuck her hard and fast, and bring them both to screaming orgasm.

But one look from Brock and he found his willpower to prolong the experience.

* * * *

Mikayla closed her eyes at the intense sensation of Lachlan pushing into her ass. Her pussy quivered, clenching against nothing, making her need even more acute.

“Open your eyes,” Brock ordered. She did exactly as her Dom insisted, nearly closing them again as Lachlan thrust hard into her ass once more. She gasped but managed to hold her gaze on Brock’s. “Good girl.”

Lachlan pulled out of her ass slowly, until only the head of his cock remained inside her. Then he thrust back in with such force that she was pushed forward, nearly breaking eye contact with Brock once more. Over and over, Lachlan plowed her ass, pounding against the tender flesh as his grip on her hips tightened.

Brock smiled a moment before his fingers found her clit. But he circled it, teasing her, bringing her to the edge but then backing away. Again and again she neared orgasm, and again and again they both slowed their pace, let the urgency subside before taking her harder.

But, finally, their control snapped. Brock grabbed her clit, rubbing the swollen flesh between two fingers and setting off delicious eddies of heat in her belly.

Gasping for breath, Mikayla pushed back against Lachlan as he pounded into her ass again and again and again. Practically screaming with need, Mikayla finally felt her climax burst through her. Heat like liquid lava drenched her from head to toe, every nerve ending snapping and tingling like an electric current.

Lachlan held her to him, grinding his pelvis against her ass, pushing as deep as he could go. He shook with his release, the pulsing throb of his cock echoing through her body. He held her with an arm around her middle, panting hard against her back as he slowly pulled his cock from her quivering ass.

Brock lifted up, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and whispered, “That was beautiful, baby girl.” She smiled, happy that she’d pleased him. As Lachlan moved away, she tried to wriggle down the bed to take Brock’s erection in her mouth.

But her Doms had a better idea.

Brock rolled over, pinned her to the mattress, and thrust hard and fast into her pussy. Barely able to comprehend the abrupt change, Mikayla’s world tilted as a second more intense orgasm crashed over her. Hard and fast, Lachlan fucked her as Brock twisted her beaded nipples.

Pounding harder, faster, more insistently into her swollen, convulsing pussy, Brock groaned as he emptied his seed into her body. Finally, completely exhausted and totally fucked, Mikayla smiled as Lachlan pressed a kiss to her lips and then shuffled away to stand at the side of the bed. Brock helped her into Lachlan’s arms, and within minutes she found herself falling asleep in the bath once more.

* * * *

Time seemed to travel far more slowly. Ryan glanced around the barn where he and Ty were trying to catch up on chores, but his usual enthusiasm for the work had deserted him. It had been nearly two weeks since Mikayla and Tracey had been moved to the research station, and still no threat had become apparent. Lachlan had once told him that the worst part of any battle was the waiting, and now Ryan was beginning to understand what he’d meant. Once the fighting started, a soldier moved on instinct, his training falling into place as life broke down to just the next moment, the next danger, the next threat.

But waiting was driving them all nuts. Despite their best intentions, all of the men—Tracey’s husbands included—were beginning to argue amongst themselves. It felt like they were all moving in a type of holding pattern. They couldn’t make plans for the future. They couldn’t travel. They couldn’t deal with the day-to-day running of the farm without major changes and adjustments. The farm was beginning to show signs of neglect not only because everything took an extra step to ensure Mikayla and Tracey’s safety but also because they were always several people short. Mikayla’s pride and joy—her own vegetable patch—looked abandoned. That more than anything else drove home the fact that Mikayla wasn’t able to live her life the way she should’ve been able to.

Impotent anger gripped Ryan harder, and he found himself with the irrational urge to slam his fists into the solid walls of the barn.

The shrieking of the proximity alarm was a very welcome distraction.

“Heads up,” Bryce’s voice came through the short range communicator. “We have one person on foot. Ashton and Lachlan are moving to intercept. Stay out of their way.”

Ryan almost laughed humorlessly—he would’ve if the situation hadn’t been so real—at the reminder that there were at least five men better suited to protecting Mikayla and Tracey than he and Ty. Add feeling useless to the list of things that pissed him off.

The sound of old-fashioned gunfire stole the breath from his lungs. Despite the situation, part of him had never actually expected it to happen. Ty moved to the open door of the barn, his need to protect his brothers obvious, but Bryce’s warning to stay out of the way likely holding him back.

Another round of gunfire broke the tense silence, and this time both Ryan and Ty ignored Bryce’s instructions, grabbed their med-kits, and left the barn. Ryan had but a moment to consider the stupidity of running head first into a gun fight before Ashton’s voice crackled through the communicator. “Call emergency services. We need an ambulance. Tell them we have one injured, one dead.”

Dead?

Ryan’s heart stuttered to a stop, but then beat double-time when he rounded the corner and found Ashton leaning over Lachlan, trying to stem the bleeding from a wound in his leg. Lachlan looked pissed but thankfully very much alive. Jet Killarney lay in a pool of blood several paces away from Ashton and Lachlan.

“Emergency services are on their way. Ryan, Ty, Ashton needs your help.” Ryan could hear the strain in Bryce’s voice and realized that none of the others knew who was dead and who was injured.

“We’re on it,” Ryan said urgently into the communicator. “Jet is dead.” He glanced at Lachlan’s pale face and grinned. “Lachlan just has a boo-boo.” Lachlan gave him an incredulous look before his mouth relaxed into a small, if somewhat strained, smile. He was bleeding pretty badly, but it would’ve been a lot worse if the bullet had hit the femoral artery. Ryan quickly took over from Ashton and got the bleeding under control. Ty moved to check on Jet but returned moments later.

Ashton shook his head to Ryan’s unasked question. “My bullet hit him in the eye.” Ryan nodded in understanding. The small caliber bullets that Ashton used in his antique Heckler & Koch HK4 wouldn’t have had the momentum to exit the skull so had probably bounced around inside the hard bone, effectively scrambling the man’s brain. It wasn’t what any of them had wanted, but at least Jet’s death had been quick.

Chapter Seven

It took less time for life to return to normal than Bryce would’ve expected. Ashton, Rick, and Tony had all resigned from the police force and moved with their wife into a home not far from the farm. They were currently setting up a private security firm and had even spoken to Bryce and Lachlan about some casual contract work.

Lachlan had left his options open, despite still recovering from a bullet to the thigh, but Bryce had refused outright. He wanted that part of his life over with. The only people he planned on protecting in the future were the members of his family.

Mikayla looked tired. Even as he set the table for dinner in the other room, he listened intently to Mikayla’s footsteps and movements in the kitchen. She hadn’t quite been her usual energetic self the last week or so. For the past few days Bryce had been considering how best to talk her into visiting the doctor. After the vitamin D deficiency she’d suffered on the jungle planet, they were all keen to make certain Mikayla took care of her own health before it became a problem.

Bryce heard the kitchen door open and absently noted the lighter footsteps, but it wasn’t until Mikayla said, “Oh, hello,” in an unsure tone that Bryce realized it wasn’t one of his brothers entering the house without shoes.

He tried to tamp down his instincts. Mikayla was safe. The only person that she’d known enough about to testify against was already dead. Even if the conspiracy to get Jet released from prison was far reaching and high up, there was no reason for them to come after Tracey or Mikayla now. To do so would only risk exposing their criminal activities once more.

Bryce tried to take a deep breath to calm himself but, despite everything he knew, he still moved toward the kitchen on stealthy feet. He glanced through the partially open door and listened intently to the conversation.

“Hello,” the woman said in a pleasant voice. “I’m Leila Sanderson. I was hoping you could answer a few questions about the night Jet Killarney died.” She held out a badge of sorts and Mikayla looked it over before returning her gaze to the woman’s face.

“You’re a judge?” Mikayla asked as she offered the woman a seat. Mikayla seemed relaxed, but Bryce knew her well enough to hear the strain in her voice as she tried to be polite to a complete stranger.

“That’s correct,” the woman said in a pleasant voice that sounded like it came with a kind smile. “I just need to get a few more details to close the file on Jet’s retrial application.”

Bryce knew there was something strange going on. Judges didn’t get involved in the details of a case outside of the courtroom, and they certainly didn’t call the defendant by their first name—especially in such a familiar tone.

Bryce glanced at the communicator but quickly decided against contacting his brothers. Any sound he made would be heard from the kitchen, so he wouldn’t be able to relay any information without tipping off the woman in the kitchen that he was on to her.

He pulled his stun gun from the holster, checked the charge, and put it back. He’d spent the last several weeks trying to convince himself he was being paranoid. Thankfully, he hadn’t been successful. Of course, now he wished he also carried his old-fashioned Heckler & Koch pistol as well.

Unwilling to leave Mikayla unguarded any longer, he stepped casually through the door. Leila Sanderson—if that was even her name—looked up at his entry but didn’t seem too distressed that Mikayla was no longer alone.

She looked at Mikayla questioningly, and after a brief moment of hesitation, Mikayla introduced him. As soon as the woman learned his name, she seemed to lose interest and turned her attention to Mikayla once more.

“So you were hiding when Jet died?” Mikayla looked confused by the way the question had been phrased, but she nodded. The woman moved slightly, and all the color suddenly drained from Mikayla’s face. “And you, Bryce,” the woman said without actually turning to face him. “Where were you when Jet was murdered?”