Retreat From Love (30 page)

Freddy’s tongue drove into her sheath, deep and wet, spearing her on his mouth and she couldn’t stop her shriek of pleasure. He fucked his tongue in and out. “Oh God,” she moaned.

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Brett chuckled unevenly. “Yes, that’s it. I love your love song, Anne.”

Anne’s right hand blindly searched between her legs and she eagerly clutched Freddy’s hair, holding his face pressed against her. She felt him shake with laughter, the sound traveling inside her and she took flight. The piano keys danced and chimed as her climax began with a moan and ended on a shout of pure joy.

Anne’s orgasm held Brett spellbound. He fisted his hand over her trembling stomach as she arched on the piano, her feet pounding the keys as she forced Freddy’s face into her cunt and shouted with pleasure. Christ, she was amazing, delicious, and he had to have her.

Brett stood, stumbling over his own feet as he began to rip his jacket off. On the piano Anne was moaning and trembling as she came down from her peak. Freddy continued to lick and suck her, the wet sounds driving Brett mad. His cock was like a caged beast, desperate to be free of his clothing.

When he ripped his shirt off and threw it, fluttering, to the floor near Freddy’s feet, Freddy finally noticed what he was doing.

“Brett?” he asked. His voice was rough, hungry, and Brett’s cock jerked in recognition of that hunger. God, Brett wanted to shove his cock in Freddy’s mouth, still hot with Anne’s release. He wanted to soothe Freddy’s throat with his own climax, bathe it with his semen and then kiss the ache away.

“New rule. Brett has to be naked too.” Anne’s voice startled him, and his gaze flew over to see her leaning up on one elbow, watching him. Her chest was heaving still, her eyes slightly unfocused.

“Yes,” he rasped, “new rule.” He couldn’t manage more words.

Without finesse he plopped down on the floor and tugged mercilessly at one of his boots. “God damn boots,” he muttered desperately. Finally it popped free and he yanked with all his might and threw it across the room. It bounced off the wall with a thud and Brett heard both Freddy and Anne laughing.

“Are we in a bit of a hurry?” Freddy inquired languidly, in that voice, that god damn delicious, deep voice that Brett had only just discovered.

“Yes,” Brett growled as the other boot came free. Rising, Brett ripped the fall front on his trousers open and shoved them down with his underwear. He pulled pants, underwear and stockings off all at once. When he was done, when his skin could breathe and his cock was free, he stood there for a moment breathing heavily.

“Good God,” Freddy murmured.

Brett looked up at the piano, his vision strangely sharp. Anne and Freddy were starkly clear in the dim light of the candles. They wanted him. They couldn’t take their eyes off him. Their desire made Brett feel whole, invincible, feral. He grinned and he saw Anne’s eyes widen.

“No touching,” Freddy murmured.

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“No, Freddy,” Anne wailed. “Please. He’s so perfect. Please.”

Brett grinned wider. He limped over and put his hands on the piano. He leaned down as if to kiss Anne and then pulled away at the last second and hoisted himself up to the piano top, where he rested on his knees next to her.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Anne chanted as she stared at his erection just above her.

Brett straddled her stomach and leaned down, resting his forearms along the piano lid next to Anne’s head. She had to tip her head back a little to look in his face. She was beautiful, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glowing, her sharp, little white teeth biting down on her juicy lower lip. Christ, he even thought her small, delicate ears with their sharply defined whorls were beautiful. He leaned down and blew very softly into those whorls.

“Brett,” she whimpered, shivering. She started to reach for him but stopped a scant inch from his chest, her hands moving restlessly as she clenched her fists to keep from touching him.

“Don’t touch,” he whispered in her ear.

“I want to, so much,” she whispered back.

Kneeling over Anne on the hard wood of the lid was affecting Brett’s thigh. He had to put most of his weight on his good leg, and partially straighten his lame leg. The move forced his chest lower and his chest hair brushed across Anne’s swollen nipples.

“Oh yes,” she sighed, arching slightly.

“Give me your hand, Brett,” Freddy said quietly. “Here.” Brett felt a soft touch on his inner thigh and couldn’t control his jerk of shock and awareness. He looked down and saw Freddy reaching between his legs, so damn close to his hard cock Brett felt the heat of his hand on his already overheated skin. His hips jerked involuntarily again, straight for that hand, and Brett had to pull back at the last second. Taking a moment to breathe deeply and get himself back in control, he reached down and Freddy wrapped his hand around Brett’s.

For the briefest moment Brett thought he felt Freddy’s lips on the back of his thigh, but it was a ghost of a kiss, if it was even real. It might have been his imagination it was so fleeting, but Brett’s body reacted and a drop of moisture escaped from his slit. He watched as it dropped slowly to Anne’s stomach, a gossamer-thin strand connecting his cock to her skin. The strand broke and Anne hissed in a breath, her stomach muscles trembling. Brett could see that drop glistening there, just above her navel, and he wanted to lick it off. Before he could Freddy’s hand reached between them and he ran his thumb through it, smearing it and rubbing it in.

Freddy’s breath was hot and fast on his ass, and Brett froze. Would he put his mouth on him? Did Brett want him to? Freddy pulled back and Brett didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. He’d thought he was ready to be Freddy’s lover. Wasn’t he?

Suddenly Freddy’s hand was pushing his down, and Brett felt Anne’s damp curls against his fingers. His head fell forward, his forehead almost touching hers.

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“Oh God, yes,” Anne cried out. “Touch me.”

Brett didn’t move his fingers. He made no move to touch Anne on his own. He let Freddy direct his movements. Freddy pressed a finger to Brett’s index finger and the two slid down Anne’s slick, hot folds until they rested against her swollen entrance.

With a gentle nudge they slid inside, just past her rim. Anne groaned deeply and thrust up, taking them to the second knuckle. Freddy pushed and they were buried in her. She was so tight and hot. “Jesus,” Brett whispered.

This time he knew it was Freddy against his thigh. He could feel the tickle of Freddy’s curls on his skin as Freddy rested his head against the inside of his thigh.

Freddy rubbed his head there and Brett sucked in a breath. His finger in Anne, Freddy’s head on his naked thigh. He was going to go too soon if they kept this up.

Freddy pulled their fingers out and then slid them back in slow and deep. Anne thrashed beneath them, and Brett hushed her, his mouth at her ear again. When Freddy pulled their fingers out again, he hesitated just inside her sheath. He massaged her there and Anne jumped and cried out. “Do you feel her?” Brett could only nod. Freddy pushed in deep, and her walls were snug and swollen and heavenly. “It’s like being sucked in, isn’t it?” Freddy pressed against her passage and it opened a little more.

“You just have to push past this, make her take it. Don’t you?” When their fingers came out this time it sounded wet as if she were trying to suck them back in. “She’s so hungry,” Freddy whispered. “She’s always so hungry for you, Brett.”

“Yes,” Anne cried out beneath them shamelessly.

Freddy chuckled, his mouth against Brett’s thigh, and Brett shuddered. Freddy tapped Brett’s finger against Anne’s entrance. “This is where you’re going to be, Brett.”

Then he slid their joined fingers down, along the sensitive skin between her cunt and her arse until he skimmed her rear entrance with their slick fingers. “And this is where I’ll be.”

Anne froze beneath them. “What?” she asked, her voice a high squeak.

Brett barely heard her. Freddy wanted to fuck her together. And God, Brett wanted it too. He wanted to stretch her full with their two cocks and fuck her until she screamed, and then fuck her some more until they came. He tried to calm down, to go slowly. “I’ve never fucked a woman with another man,” he told Freddy, not ashamed that his voice shook with passion. “I’ve never fucked anyone there.”

Freddy rubbed his head along Brett’s thigh again, and Brett thought it was supposed to be soothing. All it did was make him lose a little bit more of his control as his toes curled and his muscles clenched.

“I know,” Freddy murmured. “But I have. That’s why I’m going to fuck her bottom, Brett.”

Brett couldn’t even feel jealous right now. He was just vastly relieved that Freddy knew what he was doing.

“Brett.” Anne’s voice was frightened. It brought Brett back to reality. But before he could say anything to reassure her, before he could pull his hand away, Freddy pressed 153

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his finger inside her tight back passage. Just Brett’s finger, which was wet with Anne’s moisture. Anne gasped and jerked and then held perfectly still.

The three of them were motionless, panting in the suddenly still air. Anne wasn’t pushing him away. He couldn’t have pulled his finger out if she did. He was beyond that kind of control.

“Do you want him to stop, Anne?” Freddy asked, his voice a low, seductive growl.

Freddy tried to pull his finger out, but Brett resisted, and he felt Anne squeeze down on him.

“Don’t you dare,” Anne panted. “More.”

Brett laughed weakly. “That’s it,” he murmured. He pressed deeper, going slowly, and her bottom was tight and hot and unsure. He loved that, loved the little virgin tremors that shook her as his finger penetrated her for the first time. Anne gasped and arched her back, her hands gripping Brett’s forearm tightly, until her fingers dug into him. The sting of her nails in his flesh was arousing, but also gave him clarity as she hugged his finger and pushed against it.

“God yes, my darling,” Freddy murmured from behind him, and Brett was jealous of the view Freddy must have, watching Brett’s finger sinking into that little entrance.

“Do you want this, Anne?” Brett rasped as his finger went as far as it could and he had to stop. He gently rubbed the pad of his finger against her inner wall and Anne shuddered and moaned.

“Yes, yes.” Anne’s head was tipped back so he couldn’t see her face.

“Say the words, Anne, so I know you understand.” Freddy spoke sharply, and Anne looked at them, unfocused, flushed, ready.

“I want you both to fuck me. Is that clear enough?” Her voice shook, but not from fear, not anymore. She reached down and cupped a hand around his elbow and ran it down to his wrist, where his hand disappeared between her legs. “But not on the piano.”

Freddy let go of Brett’s hand and stood. He let his hands trail up Brett’s thighs until they rested for a moment on the cheeks of his arse. Freddy gave him a light caress and then he was gone. It had happened so fast, Brett hadn’t had time to react. But his body naturally reacted, his cock stretching even more, another drop leaking from its tip.

“Come on,” Freddy said. His voice kept getting quieter, lower, resonating in Brett’s head, dancing along his skin as Anne’s song of desire had earlier.

Brett crawled off Anne, waiting until the last second to slowly pull his finger from her. She made a sound between a whimper and a moan, and it was so arousing Brett had to kiss her. When their lips touched, Anne caught fire. She threw her arms around Brett’s neck and devoured his mouth. He could do nothing but hold on and let her have her way. Her tongue darted in and out of his mouth, licking his teeth and along the roof of his mouth. She sucked on his tongue hard enough to remind him of the other day when she’d sucked his cock. Brett moaned and cupped the top of her head, tilting it back just a bit so she could have better access to him. She sucked on his lips, and bit the 154

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full lower one with obvious enjoyment, if her moan was any indication. Brett slid his other hand over her ribs until he palmed her breast, pressing against the hard pebble of her nipple, and Anne shuddered and moaned and arched into his hand. Anne broke away from the kiss.

“Sorry,” she gasped. “Loud, too loud. But I can’t help it.” She moaned again as Brett flicked her nipple with his fingernail.

“I don’t mind, Anne,” he told her with a low chuckle. “I like it. I like the sound of your passion. Don’t stop.”

“Anne. Come in to the bedroom and let us love you.” Freddy’s voice was still low, but it carried to them from where he stood behind them, near the bedroom door.

Anne’s arms slid off his shoulders and Brett sat up, turning around to see Freddy.

He leaned against the frame of the bedroom doorway, his cravat gone, his jacket off, his silk waistcoat unbuttoned and his shirt loose over his trousers. His legs were crossed nonchalantly, the whole pose negligent, but Brett could feel the tension radiating off him. He was strung as tight as they were, anxious to move on to the next step in this passionate game they were playing. But it was no game anymore, was it? Play, yes, sensual play, but earnest and emotional, and all those things that Brett had sworn never to experience with these two. Freddy locked gazes with him and Brett knew this was right. This night was right.

Brett slid back and lowered his legs over the side of the table. He heard Freddy take a step behind him. “Brett, be careful,” Freddy warned, just as he had a thousand times before in the last few years.

Brett answered as he always did, “I haven’t fallen yet, have I?”

Anne rolled over on her side. “I have,” she said softly, staring at the two men.

Brett was standing by then and he unceremoniously dragged Anne to the edge of the piano lid and helped her sit up. He stepped between her legs and picked her up, pulling her close. Anne automatically wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

“Brett! Can you carry me? Surely I’m too heavy for your leg.” Anne’s protest dissolved into a squeak as Brett jostled her in his arms.