The Devil Made Me Do It (2 page)

Her body arched into his, her hips lifting off the bed to rub against his erection. He indulged her for a moment, grinding against her, then moved away. She tugged at her bindings, wanting to wrap her arms or legs or something around him to keep him close and pull him in.

Feather light kisses moved down her throat, barely brushing her tight nipples as she felt him move to one side of the bed. He seemed to be reaching for something, but what?

A caress like none she’d ever felt before swirled around her breasts. Too soft to be his fingers, too dry to be his tongue, the soft strokes teased her nipples.

“
What is that?” she moaned.

Softness touched her lips, brushing beneath her nose, and she instantly recognized the scent—a rose petal. She remembered seeing a vase of roses beside the bed.

The rose petal brushed lightly over her nipples, followed by his lips. Drawing a map with the rose, he explored the trail with his tongue, moving down her body between her spread legs. The rose petal swirled over her wet flesh, and then his tongue invaded her. Gwen moaned and mewed as his warm wet tongue slid around, over, and inside her heated core.

Her senses were on edge, aware of everything at once and nothing at all. Awareness became realization, and Gwen suddenly knew there was someone else in the room. The distinctively male scent of leather and straw teased her. A calloused fingertip stroked across her cheek. Was he there to watch or—

Another set of lips closed over her nipple. Gwen gasped out loud. Two men—one at her breast and one at her thighs—two men were pleasing her at the same time. Her favorite fantasy.

Gwen’s mystery lover raised his mouth to her ear. “Such a bonnie lass you are,” he whispered in a rich Scottish brogue. “I shall greatly enjoy feasting upon you this night.”

His kiss was sweet, like honey and some ancient whisky. Gwen pulled at her restraints until they bit into her skin, longing to touch him. “Who are you?”

“
Tis no matter, wee lassie. I am here to please you.” He drew circles around her nipples with the tip of his tongue. “That is all you need to know.”

Gwen surrendered herself to pleasure. While Jake suckled her aching clit, her unknown lover suckled her swollen breasts, devoting equal attention to each one. Feeling the heat pouring from her body, Jake slipped two fingers inside her, stoking the fire between her legs. Two more fingers joined them, filling her, stretching her. Together the men stroked her to her first orgasm of the night. Gwen squealed and arched off the bed, an inferno racing through her blood.

Jake raised his head and captured her cries in his mouth. Breaking their kiss, he kneeled over her and brushed his cock against her still wet lips. She opened her mouth and drew it in, swirling her tongue around its head. Hearing her husband gasp, she sucked him harder, tasting the first drops of his pleasure.

Seizing the opportunity, the Scot pressed his lips between her legs, kissing her softly, then drawing his tongue in slow, maddening circles until she cried out a second time, sending white-hot lightning through her entire body. Gwen lay limp on the bed, wondering what unknown exquisite torture would come next.

She didn’t wonder for long. Her mystery lover sat up on his knees and drove his erection into her hard and deep. She raised her hips, begging for all of him. He didn’t deny her. Gripping her thighs, he pounded into her swollen flesh while Jake rolled her nipples between his teeth and tongue, sliding his hand down her body to stroke her swollen nub. Her body twitched and twisted, overwhelmed by sensations she couldn’t name. Faster and harder, both men moved in a perfect rhythm while Gwen could only marvel at the storm their bodies created inside her.

Jake marveled at her wild response. “I can’t wait any longer, baby.” He moved to take her as the Scot pulled out.

“
Don’t wait.” She spread her legs as far as the bindings allowed. “Take me now.”

“
As you wish.” He rocked back on his knees and entered her with a grinding thrust that nearly splintered her senses.

But something was missing. Where was her mystery lover? Her breasts ached for his touch but she didn’t feel him there. Instead, she felt his hot breath first and then his tongue—she couldn’t believe it—she felt his tongue touch her clit. The thrusts of his tongue complemented the thrusts of her husband’s cock, laving her when Jake slid out, pulling back when he slid in deep. This was better than anything she imagined. Relentless pleasure was all she knew; the aching, pounding, driving force consumed her. When Gwen could no longer stand it, she screamed, drowning out the storm still raging outside the castle. She felt Jake’s hot release inside her and the Scot’s hot release on her breasts.

Barely aware of reality and still quivering, Gwen felt the blindfold being removed. She felt a light, sweet kiss press against her lips, and she looked up into the wild blue eyes of a highland warrior.

“
May all your fantasies come true, lassie.” He winked at her and then he was gone.

When Jake untied her, she immediately rolled into his arms. “I love you,” she whispered, kissing him.

“
I love you, too,” he kissed her back.

“
Who was he?” She had to know.

“
Who was who?”

“
The other man.”

“
Other man?” Jake frowned and shook his head. “I was the only one here, baby.”

“
But…there was another man,” Gwen said. “A highlander.”

“
I know two men is your favorite fantasy, but I just can’t share you with anyone.” Jake smiled and kissed her. “Your imagination’s working overtime. Get some sleep.”

Gwen sighed and snuggled close to her husband. But she couldn’t sleep. She knew there was another man. His touch was too real to be imagined.

A last distant flash of lightning illuminated the room, drawing Gwen’s eyes to the painting above the fireplace. Drawn out of bed, she walked to the painting, studying it.

It was him. Her mystery lover.

The highland warrior in the portrait had the same wild blue eyes, the same hands, the same lips she knew so well. Thick black hair fell to his shoulders. Braids at each temple marked him as chieftain of his clan. His powerfully built body showed the strength of a natural leader, and the sensuous smile on his lips showed the skill of a practiced lover.

She ran her fingers over his painted skin, still feeling the warmth of his caress. Gwen touched a small brass plaque in the corner of the portrait.

Duncan MacKenzie, Laird of Dunbarton. Born 1527, died 1564. Known throughout the highlands as a protector of his clan. Known for all time as every woman’s fantasy.

“
Trick-or-treat!”

Heather O’Connor smiled down at the four little hobgoblins on her doorstep. Well, only one of them resembled anything close to a goblin, she thought, taking note of their costumes as she dropped Hershey bars into their wide open baskets. The fairy princess smiled and said thank you. Wolverine took his candy and ran to the next house. Boba Fett and the ghoulish-looking urchin chimed, “Thank you, ma’am,” and took off after their friends.

“
Happy Halloween,” Heather said as she closed the front door.

“
Better put your costume on, baby,” Eric O’Connor glanced at the clock. “Our guests will be here any minute.”

“
I’m almost ready.” She put the goodie basket on the hall table and took a long look at her husband. Wow. She knew he looked good in a uniform, but that French Foreign Legionnaire’s costume nearly brought her to her knees. Its caramel-colored lieutenant’s jacket and ivory pants enhanced Eric’s already striking features, complementing his brown hair and tanned skin. Shiny black boots, a gun belt, and crisscrossed bandoleers completed the fantasy. Heather sighed. She could just look at him for days—and touch him forever.

“
This isn’t loaded, is it?” She pulled a pistol from its holster.

Eric smiled. “It’s not even real.” He bent the solid rubber barrel in his fingers.

“
Good. Where are the kids?” Heather hurried toward the bedroom.

Eric checked the clock again, following her. “Jackie picked them up ten minutes ago.” His sister-in-law promised to take Jason and Sarah trick-or-treating while their parents hosted their annual costume party. “She’ll bring them back tomorrow afternoon.”

“
Ooh,” Heather purred, sliding into her husband’s arms. “Alone at last.” Her fingers caressed his chest, playing with the replica medals on his jacket. Then her hand slid down below his belt, tugging at his button fly. Eric’s hard and fast response to her hot caress nearly sent the buttons across the room. Heather grinned and kissed him, slipping her tongue into his mouth as she ground against his hard heat. Need made her wet. Forgetting about the time, she wrapped one leg around his and rode him through their clothes.

“
Not for long,” Eric groaned. But he indulged her for a moment. His hands slid under her bottom, fitting his erection between her damp thighs. He loved feeling her hot and wet against him, but right now he didn’t have enough time to satisfy her the way he wanted to. “What are you doing to me, woman?”

“
Getting you primed for tonight.” She flicked her tongue between his lips, pulling back when he tried to capture it.

“
Wicked little tramp,” he groaned into her mouth. He unwrapped her legs and pushed her into the bedroom with a playful swat across her bottom. “Now go get dressed.”

“
Yes corporal!” She gave him a saucy salute.

“
I’m a lieutenant,” he reminded her, pointing to the rank insignia on his shoulder.

Heather studied him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Maybe so, but you fuck like a four-star general.”

Eric’s mouth dropped open, hardly believing his ears. He immediately decided to send the kids to their Aunt Jackie’s more often. An inspired smile twisted his lips. “I’ll show you four stars, baby.” He lunged for her. “Come ’ere!”

Heather giggled and closed the bedroom door in his face.

“
Dammit!” Eric cursed as the doorbell rang. Quickly adjusting his pants, he opened the front door and welcomed their first guests.

Heather joined the party a few minutes later. Eric couldn’t take his eyes off her as she walked into the dining room, greeting their guests. And he wasn’t the only one. Dressed as an Arabian belly dancer, Heather captured the attention of every man in the room. Her veiled skirt swirled around her, revealing bare legs, bare feet, and jingling gold chains around each ankle. A half-vest with three tiny buttons was all that covered her apple-shaped breasts. Eric smiled. She was small enough to go without a bra, and he was fairly certain she was naked under that vest. His eyes slid from her breasts to her belly where a black pearl dangled from a gold hoop pierced through her navel. He loved that piece of jewelry.

She caught his eye and blew a kiss at him through the sheer veil over her face. Eric closed his eyes and wished the party guests into oblivion but it didn’t work. “The same thing happens every year,” he grumbled to no one into particular.

“
What’s that?” asked the pirate next to him.

Eric studied the man but didn’t recognize him. He wasn’t surprised. The O’Connor Halloween party was well-known in their community. Guests invited other guests until Eric and Heather only knew about half the people there. Eric gave the pirate a half smile and nodded in the direction of his enticing wife. “She plans this huge party and wears a costume that gives me a raging woody the entire night.”

The pirate chuckled softly, suffering the same affliction himself. “She’s very beautiful,” he said, gazing at her. Heather’s long black hair spilled over her shoulders and her green eyes twinkled as she laughed at a joke he couldn’t hear. Beautiful, yes, but too slim for his taste. He liked a woman with curves. “You’re a lucky man,” he said to Eric.

“
I know.” Eric grinned. A hundred dirty thoughts all involving his wife naked and sweaty formed in his mind as he watched her circulate among the guests. He suddenly realized he couldn’t act on any of them if he spent the whole night staring at her from across the room.

The pirate watched Eric try to pull Heather away from the crowd, but one of their many guests cut off their escape route, asking for more beer. The pirate frowned at his own empty mug and decided he needed another drink, too. He headed for a group of men in a corner, guessing they were gathered around the keg. Instead of beer he found a goddess—Aphrodite—in the flesh.

Surrounded by half a dozen fascinated men, Aphrodite smiled and made polite conversation. Equally fascinated, the pirate smiled as his eyes slid over her lush curves. This was the kind of woman he liked. Her costume was simple but breathtaking. A pale blue dress draped her body, falling over one shoulder to her sandaled feet. The gown was so sheer it left little to the imagination, especially her rosy nipples and generous breasts. And he caught a teasing glimpse of the golden patch of hair between her thighs. The gold armbands she wore matched the gold and jeweled clasp in her hair. Blonde curls dangled past her creamy shoulders, cascading down her bare back. Truly a goddess, the pirate thought. He didn’t need another drink. He was intoxicated by the sight of her.

She felt the pirate approach before she saw him. His engaging presence reached out and stroked her senses, drawing her attention away from her groupies and holding her captive in his gaze. Pirates—her favorite fantasy bad boy—stirred images of hot and reckless passion. His white silk shirt fell open to his waist, where a brilliant red sash held a wicked-looking sword. Her heartbeat quickened, wondering if the man inside the costume was as dangerous as he looked. Their eyes locked.