Retreat From Love (42 page)

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Authors: Samantha Kane

BOOK: Retreat From Love
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Brett nodded, so grateful that she understood. Anne wiggled under him, and Brett lifted his hips, pulling his aching cock free. The cool air hit his overheated shaft, and the shock settled him somewhat. Anne continued to wiggle until she was out from under him completely, and she moved to his side. She leaned down and kissed his back. “Is that better, darling?”

Brett nodded but also protested. “Want you too.” His words turned into a gasp as Freddy gave a quick, short thrust, hitting that special spot. Brett remembered Freddy’s question then. “Love you, Freddy.” He licked his dry lips as Freddy went still behind him, filling him, solid, pulsing, but holding still. “Light,” Brett said, and then shook his head. He needed to explain it right. “The world was dark, and then there you were. You were my light. I viewed the world through the light and warmth you cast. Do you see?”

Freddy leaned over and kissed his back, licking along a couple of vertebra, hugging Brett’s waist tightly. “No, Brett. Explain it to me.”

Brett was gaining more control by the second. Had they known how close he was?

He wanted it to last. They had to help him. “I had no hope, but you gave it back to me.

You are everything good, Freddy. You see the good in everyone, in everything. You 213

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give and give and give, and ask nothing in return. When I was cold, you warmed me.

When I was afraid, you made me strong. When I was lonely, you comforted me.

Everything I lacked, you had in abundance. You feed my soul, Freddy.”

“Brett, you bloody, romantic bastard,” Freddy whispered. “Why couldn’t you tell me this before?” He didn’t sound angry, more bewildered, but happy.

“I didn’t think I deserved you.” Brett leaned forward to run a hand through his sweaty hair and get it off his brow, and the movement shifted Freddy inside him, against that bump. Brett shuddered and cursed.

“Well, you deserve this,” Freddy told him with amusement, and then he pulled back and thrust hard against that spot. Brett’s hand slammed down on the bed and fisted the covers and he cried out.

“God, Freddy,” he moaned, “you feel so fucking amazing. So god damned

amazing.”

“Doesn’t he?” Anne purred next to him. She had been sitting quietly next to them during Brett’s confession, but now she leaned over and bit Brett on the shoulder. He turned to her, and he could see the tears on her cheeks.

“Anne?” he asked.

“Shhh,” she said, licking the spot she’d bitten. “I’m all right. It’s just, well, Freddy is right. You are a bloody, romantic bastard.” She gave a shaky little laugh and rubbed her nose against him. “And now I get to help Freddy fuck you. God, you two are gorgeous, and I want to watch each second of it.”

Anne felt so wicked and free. Freddy and Brett wanted everything, and she did too.

She didn’t have to be embarrassed about that now, about her sexual desires. They understood. No, they more than understood, they encouraged, supported and fulfilled them, in more ways than she could have imagined even a few short weeks ago. Because they loved her. They were the fulfillment of all her fantasies, her dreams become reality.

Even now, she wondered if she
was
dreaming. Because this, this incredible heat and sexual harmony between them, should only exist in dreams. And yet it was hers, now, forever.

Anne sat back and ran her hands all over Brett’s back, watching his skin quiver at her touch. She moved them slowly, willing herself to experience every bump, every dip, each drop of sweat, the smooth, the rough, every inch of him. She moved her hands down his flank and realized his bad leg was shaking as he kneeled there.

“Freddy,” she said softly, “his leg.”

“Oh Christ,” Freddy exclaimed. He wrapped a hand around Brett’s waist. “Slide some pillows under his hips, Anne.” She grabbed several from the bed, including a long, overstuffed, rounded bolster. “That’s perfect,” Freddy told her. She slid them under Brett, and Freddy helped lower him, but the pillows kept his hips canted high.

“Lie down, darling,” Freddy told Brett softly. He rubbed his back. “Relax against the bed.”

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Brett sighed and Anne rubbed gently across his upper back as she watched his muscles relax until his arms were stretched out, his cheek pressed to the bedcovers. He looked positively decadent lying there all spread out with Freddy’s cock still in his back passage. He shivered as he sank into the bed.

“That’s right, Brett,” Freddy said softly as he pulled Brett back just a little and rose higher on his knees behind him. “You just lie there and let me fuck you.”

Brett moaned. “Freddy,” he sighed.

He was so beautiful, his bottom so heavily muscled, so thick and round and delicious. “God,” Anne groaned. “I’ve never wanted a cock before, but I wish I had one now so I could fuck that bottom.”

Freddy burst out laughing as Brett’s eyes opened wide and he stared at her, shocked.

“That can be arranged, Anne, my dear.” Freddy leaned forward to pat her cheek conspiratorially. “And I shall do so.”

“What?” Brett sounded scandalized, and it made Anne want him more.

“Absolutely,” she purred, and Brett’s mouth worked but nothing came out.

Anne couldn’t resist. She leaned over and licked one firm cheek and the muscles seized, bunching until it was rock-hard. Freddy let out a strange gurgle and Anne chuckled.

“Don’t stop, Anne,” Freddy gasped. “Damn me, that felt good.”

“Isn’t that,” Brett paused to pant a little, “my decision?”

“No,” Anne and Freddy said at the same time. They laughed together.

“You are to just lie there and get fucked,” Freddy told Brett with a caress of his bottom. “Be quiet and enjoy it.”

Brett laughed weakly. “Yes, Your Grace.”

Anne bit his bottom cheek gently to reward his servility and Brett’s muscles clenched again. Freddy thrust, short and hard, and Brett groaned. Anne let go of the succulent bottom she held gently in her teeth and turned to see Brett’s forehead rubbing against the bed, his hands fisted in the cover.

“God, I love this,” she growled.

“Me too,” Freddy growled back.

Brett just moaned.

Anne let her hands wander again. She caressed Brett’s firm cheeks, squeezing them, and she could feel his restraint as he forced himself to be docile. “Good boy,” she murmured. She ran both hands down his leg, pausing to massage his thigh, although not too roughly. When Brett groaned this time she could hear the difference. This was pleasure of a different kind. “I’ll massage that more when we’re done,” she murmured.

“Does it hurt much?”

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“No more than usual,” Brett said in a quiet, relaxed voice. “I love your hands on me, Anne. You feel so good.”

“So do you,” she said softly, leaning up to kiss him. His eyes were closed and he smiled, that slashing dimple appearing in his cheek. Anne dipped her tongue into it and Brett laughed lightly. He gave a little gasp, and Anne looked down to see Freddy holding Brett’s hips, and circling his own. “I know how that feels,” she whispered in Brett’s ear. “So good.”

Brett nodded as he licked his lips.

Anne brought her attention back to Brett’s behind, and Freddy. Gently she

straddled Brett’s shoulders and settled in, resting her hands on the bed on either side of Brett’s lower back. She kept her weight balanced on her knees, so as not to burden Brett.

“Anne?” Brett asked breathlessly.

“Christ, Anne,” Freddy whispered.

She had a perfect view. Brett’s perfectly rounded high buttocks and Freddy’s cock piercing them. “Move,” she whispered.

Freddy slid his hands down to Brett’s thighs and pressed them farther apart, holding them wide. Brett whimpered, and then his hands were clutching Anne’s calves tightly. Anne’s heart beat was racing, and she was breathing so heavily she had to lick her suddenly dry lips.

Freddy pulled out slowly, his cock red and slick with oil, so hard and delicious. She could just smell the scent of ripe sex beneath the spice of the oil, and her inner muscles clenched. She felt the moisture on the lips of her sex, as if her body was preparing for that cock. When he was almost all the way out, Freddy stopped. He tipped Brett’s bottom just a little, and Anne could see the tight clasp of Brett’s hole around Freddy’s cock. She moaned at the sight.

“Do you like that, Anne?” Freddy whispered, his voice that low, intense growl that made gooseflesh shiver across her arms. “Do you like to watch me fuck our Brett?”

Anne made a wordless noise, half growl, half groan. She slid her hands down over Brett’s bottom and then reached for Freddy’s hips. He moved a little closer and she grabbed him, digging her fingers into his hips as she pulled him back to Brett. She pulled, and Freddy let her guide him back into Brett. His cock slid in and as each inch disappeared Anne grew more aroused.

When Freddy was buried inside Brett, Anne slowly released his hips. Brett’s hips thrust back, just a small movement, but it seemed desperate as she watched his hole clasp the cock inside him. “I want to fuck him with you.” She wasn’t sure where the words had come from, but she knew she’d never wanted something this much. She tried to move her leg, but Brett still held her. When she tugged he let go, and she swung her leg over him and scrambled behind Freddy.

Anne mimicked Freddy’s position, kneeling behind him. She ran her hands down his back and he shivered. Then she cupped his bottom, which was clenched almost as tight as Brett’s. She kneaded those tight muscles for a moment and then she grasped 216

Retreat From Love

Freddy’s hips. She tucked her body in tight behind him, her knees between his, her breasts pressed to his back, her pubic hair rubbing on that gorgeous bottom of his. “I want to help Brett fuck you later,” she whispered, and Freddy shuddered as Brett groaned.

“Good God, yes,” Freddy agreed fervently.

When she was in position, she kissed Freddy’s back, and he began to move. He moved slowly at first, until Anne caught his rhythm, and then they picked up the pace.

“Oh God,” she whispered, her head dropping back on her shoulders. “Is this what it’s like?”

“God damn it,” Brett growled, “fuck me. Do it.” The hunger in his voice made the tiny hairs on her arms stand up.

Freddy began to move faster, harder. She could hear Freddy’s thighs slapping into Brett’s as her mound slammed into Freddy’s behind. They were panting now, and Anne wrapped her arms around Freddy’s chest. One hand found a nipple, and she pressed her palm to it, rubbing hard and fast, in time with their thrusts.

“Anne!” Freddy cried.

“Don’t you dare come, Brett,” Anne ordered him loudly. “Don’t you dare. Freddy is going to come and then you are going to fuck me. Do you hear me?”

“God damn you,” Brett ground out. “Damn you. Freddy!” He cried out Freddy’s name in shock and surprise.

“What?” Anne demanded. “What did he do?”

“Yes,” Brett hissed. Freddy pulled Brett’s legs wider and his thrusts became wild and fast and Anne fell back on her hands. She couldn’t keep up. Quickly she scrambled around the side to watch.

Freddy’s eyes were closed, his face a mask of concentration. He rose higher on his knees and slammed down into Brett, and Brett rose to meet each penetration, crying out with each hard thrust. Anne crawled up the bed and pressed her hands down on top of Brett’s where they fisted the bedcovers, holding him down in place, and Brett shouted wordlessly.

When Freddy came Anne nearly did too. He slammed into Brett and froze, his lips pulled back in a grimace of pleasure as his hips jerked slightly, over and over. Anne knew he was filling Brett with his release, hot and wet and so wonderful. She remembered being full of him, how good it felt. Finally Freddy fell forward onto his hands, still pressed against Brett.

Brett surged beneath him. “Get off,” he growled. Freddy rolled off him to lie supine on the bed, staring at them with glazed eyes and a cock half-hard still. Brett pulled his hands from under Anne’s and yanked the pillows out from beneath his hips. He rolled over next to Freddy, their shoulders touching. His cock was huge, swollen and pulsing and leaking and Anne’s sex pulsed and ached in response at the sight.

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“Get over here and fuck me,” Brett growled at Anne, grabbing her hand and

yanking her down across him. She righted herself and Brett practically lifted her until she straddled his hips. Brett didn’t waste time on preliminaries. He slammed her down on his cock and ordered, “Fuck it.”

Anne gladly complied. She knew Brett was close. God, she was too, just from watching the two men fuck, and what she’d done with Freddy. She didn’t need to start slow. Instead she rose and slammed back down on that thick, hard cock with a shout of pure pleasure.

“Fuck, Anne,” Brett ground out. “You are so damned marvelous. Did you like fucking me with Freddy? Did you like watching him fill me with his juice?”

“Oh God,” Anne wailed, feeling the tremors start in her arms and legs and sex. It was there, it was right there, so close.

“I can feel it, Anne,” he whispered. “It’s hot and thick and wet. I want that in your cunt, Anne.”

“Brett!” she screamed as she came. The convulsions felt like lightning racing along her nerves. She was on fire, the pleasure so strong and so amazing. Vaguely she heard Brett call her name, and then he was pressed hard inside her and she could feel the pulse of his cock as he filled her, just as he’d told her, hot and thick and wet, and another tremor of lightning chased through Anne.

She couldn’t catch her breath. She fell forward only to be caught by Brett’s hands on her upper arms. He held her there, his hips still thrusting, short, sharp stabs, as if he couldn’t stop himself. His head was thrown back on the bed, his eyes closed, his mouth open. He was lost to sensation.

Finally, with a shudder, he released her and she collapsed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and she rose and fell with each panting breath he took.

“Well,” Freddy said quietly from beside them, “that was definitely worth waiting for.”

Brett could barely muster a weak, breathless laugh beneath her.

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