Pleasing Sir (7 page)

Her inner muscles clamped hard around him, then released, clasped, released.

He gave a snort of laughter and spanked her. “Not a muscle.”

“Fucker.”

The single word was soft, but he’d held his breath a second and heard her. He pressed on her outer thighs, urging her to close them, locking him inside her, robbing her of the ability to move, to feel the brush of his balls or hair against her clit. Then he dropped spit into the crease between her buttocks and rubbed a finger in it, working it around and around her asshole.

Her inner muscles quivered around his shaft, an involuntary jerk he was sure. He didn’t relent, rubbing and rubbing, then pressing against it until his finger poked inside.

He thrust it deep and rolled his hand around and around, stretching her, forcing her to relax against the easy movement. Then he tucked another finger inside her.

Raelie’s arms gave out and her chest dropped to the bed, just her ass held high, her pussy still stuffed with his cock, her soft cries muffled by the bedding as he began to thrust those fingers in and out.

He inserted a third, and she whimpered. “Good to know,” he whispered. “We have a little work to do.”

“Bastard,” she bit out.

He wondered if she thought she was saying it soft enough he couldn’t hear. Since she had the spirit left to defy him, to curse him, he decided she had the strength to take a little more.

With three fingers still stuffed inside her ass, he widened his legs, coming up until he was bent over her, his legs widespread. With his free hand on her hip to keep himself steady, he began to fuck in and out of her, slamming himself against her ass, his cock sliding sharply in long, deep thrusts, jamming deep before swiftly withdrawing and slamming inside again.

Her whimpers became full-bodied groans. Her shoulders bunched; her hands fisted in the bedding as he powered into her, the force of his body slams shaking her hard.

He let go of her hip, and reached down to wind his hand in her hair until he had his rope and he pulled her up, forcing her to brace herself on quivering arms as he held her immobile and took her.

The moment she crested, he knew it. Her back arched up then sank, and a loud keening wail ripped from her throat. He couldn’t praise her, couldn’t breathe. He let go of her hair, pulled his fingers from her ass and clutched her hips so hard he had no doubts he’d leave bruises as he crashed into her.

His orgasm slammed through him, the pressure in his balls exploding like a relief valve on a water heater, pumping scalding semen through his cock. He groaned as he slowed and gentled his thrusts, laying over her back and kissing her neck, her shoulder, nuzzling her ear as he continued to pulse because he hated like hell stopping. “Fucking fantastic,” he breathed.

A weary laugh jerked her back against his belly. “Thank god, for every drop of your cum. It kept me from burning up.”

He jerked out his cock. “I’m sorry. Was the friction too much?”

She eased down to the bed and rolled to her back, easing her legs around him and inviting him to lie on top of her. When he covered her from shoulder to toe, his cock squashed against her belly but with the weight of his upper torso on his elbows, he smoothed back the hair sticking to her cheeks.

She grinned sleepily. “How come you’re not tired? Thought all guys were wham-bam then just wanted to roll over and die.”

“Looks like you’re the one without an ounce of stamina.”

She nuzzled his palm. “And I wasn’t doing the work. Doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

“That’s okay. I want you rested for tomorrow.”

Her eyelids had been drifting down, but now they opened wide. “You’re not gonna give me even a little hint, are you?”

The disgruntled pout she gave him had him grinning. He bent and kissed her hard, then rolled to his feet. He slapped her thigh. “Out of bed. I have to get you home before you decide to nest.”

Raelie pulled a pillow over her head and moaned.

He slapped her again, and she opened her thighs, a lewd retort.

His next slap landed on her pussy, a sharp snap that warmed his palm.

A soft cry sounded. Her legs rose and melted open, thighs falling to either side.

He shook his head. There wasn’t anything hotter than a woman who surrendered her modesty because a man tempted her to give it up.

Bryce grabbed her hand and pulled her to a sitting position. The pillow slid away, and her wild hair stuck up in a tangled mess. She’d never looked cuter. “Five minutes,”

he said, forcing every bit of humor and warmth from his expression because he wanted to be sure she understood he was serious.

Her expression turned solemn, her eyes a bit dreamy, but she nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Raelie returned from James’s office, again—more clean bills of health clutched inside her hand. She crossed to her desk. That morning, she’d had to call for two additional appointments.

Bryce’s implication was impossible to miss. He planned to share her with Morgan and Billy, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

Excited, certainly—all right, horribly, achingly aroused.

But also a little uncertain about where this would leave her with Bryce. Was she to be their plaything for an indeterminate period of time before being discarded? Her last boyfriend had lost interest after he’d had her perform in public. However, he hadn’t loved her; he’d only been using her.

Was she convinced Bryce’s intentions were any different? Sure, he’d driven her home last night, and then stayed, telling her he didn’t think he wanted to face a lonely bed when he could hold her close all night.

The night had been perfect. Romantic. And scary as hell. She wanted so badly for Bryce to be the one, but she didn’t want to make another mistake. It all came down to trust. Did she trust him enough to give him full control? To offer her heart?

She could share herself with his friends, if that was something he wanted. No doubt, she would enjoy the hell out of it too, but she wanted him to be there for her afterward. She needed to belong to him.

She’d just placed her purse in the drawer of her desk when the light on her telephone blinked then buzzed. She raised the handset, “Yes sir?”

“You have their results?”

“I do. Do you want me to bring them to you?”

“Leave them in your center drawer. I want you to take the invoice I left on your desk to my house. Deliver it personally to Mr. Markham and Mr. Thibodaux, they’re working there today. They’re waiting for you now. You’re to do whatever they ask.”

Her hand fisted around the handset, and she bit into her lower lip.

“Go, now, Raelie.”

She melted at the warmth in his voice. Her eyelids drifted shut and she laid the telephone back in its cradle. Then she placed the printout from the doctor’s office in the drawer, picked up the invoice, and gathered her purse again to leave.

The drive to his house took only five minutes. She was tempted to make another turn around the block to steel her nerves, but Morgan stood at the entrance of the courtyard, waiting.

Heart pumping, she pulled into the driveway, set her emergency brake, and stared.

He lifted one eyebrow, arching it high in an unspoken challenge.

Raelie took a deep breath and let herself out of the car then strode slowly toward him. She held out the invoice. “It’s for the last of the appliances he wants installed in the kitchen. I was to deliver this directly to you.”

He shook his head. “To me and Mr. Thibodaux.”

Raelie cleared her throat. “Is he around?”

“He’s inside.”

She glanced around the exterior of the house. Men worked on scaffolding on the nearly finished façade. She knew more were inside, working on installing a home entertainment system and light fixtures. The house was almost complete.

Morgan turned on his heel and opened the door, standing to the side as she entered. “Go all the way back to the master bedroom.”

She jerked at the word and a flourish of heat seeped into her sex. A shiver worked its way from the base of her skull straight down her spine, but she kept her feet moving, taking the lead down the spacious corridor to the room in the back. Inside, she noted the curtains were closed. The sounds of machinery would be enough to muffle any nasty noises, if what she thought was going to happen really did go down.

However, the bedroom appeared empty until the bathroom door opened, and Billy Thibodaux stepped out, bared to the waist, his black hair wet and droplets of water clinging to his broad shoulders and hair-darkened chest, indicating he’d washed up just before she arrived.

His gaze started at her hair and moved slowly down her body. Her skin burned everywhere it landed. He didn’t say a word, but stepped forward, reached for her purse and set it on the dresser. Then he knelt and held out a hand, palm up.

Without being told, she placed her foot in his hand, and he slipped off her pump then did the same with the other. His black-eyed glance swept up, pinning her in place and then his hands glided up her legs and right under her skirt—all the way up until he reached the waistband of the pantyhose she’d worn today.

Raelie swallowed, nervous and excited all at once, liking the roughness of his callused hands even though they spelled a quick death for her nylons. He stripped them down, taking her undies with them, and pushed them off her feet.

Again, his hands disappeared beneath her skirt, smoothing up her thighs and over her naked ass. While his fingers kneaded her bottom, causing her to sway on her feet, another set of fingers pulled the waist band of her skirt.

Morgan had moved behind her and was making quick work of the rest of her clothes. Inside a minute, they had her stripped naked, standing between them and shivering from head to toe.

Billy stood, gliding up her belly, his furred chest rubbing against her nervous tummy and breasts. When he stepped back to strip, she let out the breath she’d held in a loud whoosh, which made the corners of his mouth crimp.

Naked, he planted hands on his hips and let her look, his dark gaze never leaving her face. She drank in the sight of his muscular body, thicker than either Morgan’s or Bryce’s and with arms like a prize-fighter’s. Black fur cloaked his chest, not too thick and silky looking. Fur arrowed down toward his cock, which was fully erect and pointing right at her. Everything was in proportion with his thick build, including another lovely, masculine cock.

Moisture filled her mouth, and she was tempted to drop to her knees and take him, but she remembered there was a game to play. They would make all the decisions. Her duty was to obey.

Billy fisted his cock and gave her narrowed glance. “You sure you want this?”

“Your cock?” she blurted stupidly.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Will you let us fuck you? Both of us?”

Raelie lifted her chin. “Mr. Caldwell sent me. Said I was to do whatever you asked.”

Billy reached behind her head and removed the clasp that restrained her hair. He combed thick fingers through the strands he’d freed.

The simple motion soothed her ravaged nerves. Still, she resisted swaying toward him. Her back stiffened.

“How come you don’t look ready for this?”

Raelie covered her breasts with her hands. “I’m thinking…” she whispered.

A throat cleared behind her and she jumped, her shocked gaze swinging toward the intruder. Bryce stood in the doorway.

Relief washed over her and her throat drew tight.

Bryce crooked his finger and she walked into his arms. He kissed her hair. “These boys giving you any trouble?”

She shook her head then pressed her face against his chest.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I was feeling a little overwhelmed,” she whispered. “It’s really going to happen?”

“I did warn you I had some kinks.” His words were spoken low and against her ear. “Are you strong enough to live with them?”

Raelie tilted back her head, her gaze searching his expression. “With your kinks or with your friends?”

His lips twitched. “Tell me what really bothers you about this. I know it’s not being naked and it’s not about having sex with them. You thrive on a challenge.”

She shook her head, afraid to tell him the truth. She’d sound needy, like a weird stalker chick in the making.

He lifted her chin with his thumb until she was forced to meet his gaze. “Tell me, Raelie.”

She licked her lips then closed her eyes, hoping it would be less embarrassing if she didn’t have to see his dismay. “I’m afraid you’ll be done with me after this. After the luster of the chase is gone.”

When he didn’t respond, her heart lodged in the back of her throat. She’d screwed up. After several moments passed, she opened her eyes and looked up.

His expression was hard, his eyebrows drawn into a fierce scowl. “That’s what you think of me? That I’m using you? That you’re just the entertainment?”

“Aren’t I?”

With a pointed glare that ignited her anger and, surprisingly, helped her rediscover her backbone, he stepped back. His glance went beyond her to the men behind her. “She’s yours. Forget I’m here.”

He strode to the far wall and leaned against it, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

Raelie didn’t know what to think. She’d disappointed him—that much she knew.

She straightened her shoulders and faced the other two men.

Billy’s gaze raked her again. “I want you to face away from us and bend over.

You cheated yesterday. Didn’t you know there would be consequences?”

Feeling suddenly vulnerable again, which she knew was his intent, she took a deep breath.

“Now, Miss Wood. Are you afraid?”

She read the steely confidence in his gaze and the set of his jaw. She pivoted on her heel, faced the wall then slowly bent over, knowing her ass and her sex were exposed to them both.

“Lower,” Billy murmured. “Grab your ankles.”

Shivering beneath his even tone, spoken in a gruff Cajun accent, she stretched down and clutched her ankles.

“Told you she had a pretty cunt,” Morgan murmured.

“Spread your legs wider,” Billy said quietly.

She shuffled her feet apart, her face heating from the embarrassment and from the blood rushing to her head.