Winners (4 page)

“Legs further apart. Give me room
to work.”

She widened her stance and
flattened her back. Reece managed not to touch her pussy, the outer lips
visibly moist and swollen, but he was sorely tempted. If he went there, his
plans for the evening would fall apart, such was the draw of that sweet flesh.

“A little cool, sweetheart.” He
popped the lid on the lube and squeezed some onto his fingertips, dipping them
between the curves of her buttocks to coat her anus. Aside from a slight intake
of breath, Candace didn’t move.

Setting the plug on the small of
her back, her glowing flesh in competition with the shining metal, he worked a
finger into her rosebud, adding another as she pushed out for him. “Tight.
You’ll need some work before you can take me.”

The clenching of the hot inner
walls around his digits made him smile. Candace liked to hear what he intended
to do to her, his sexy talk making her wetter. When his fingers moved without
restraint, he carefully withdrew and quickly coated the plug with lube, adding
another dollop at her shrinking anus. Setting the tip against it, he pushed the
plug in steadily, urging her to breathe, watching for any signs of real
discomfort. She took it all without complaint, and when he had the toy fully
seated, he admired the jewel.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

“I’m pretty damn full, Reece.”

“You hurting?”
His hand was already reaching for the plug.

“No. I just need…” Her voice was
muffled against the bedding, but he heard the
need
, and moved to fill it.

Slipping a hand beneath her
shoulder, his knee braced against her opposite hip, he eased her over onto her
back and she moved fluidly, eyes locking with his. Reece knew precisely what
she required and took his place between her legs, setting a hand beneath either
knee to lift and fold them up, grabbing hold of those damn stilettos. The heels
made perfect handles, and the flood of desire that washed across Candace’s face
told him she’d come to appreciate that fact. She was his to use at his
discretion, just as she liked it. He was humbled by her trust.

His cock glided along the seam of
her pussy, its path facilitated by copious amounts of natural lubricant, and he
savored the wet heat. But he knew he wouldn’t last, so let go of one heel to
grab his anxious flesh and notch the cockhead against her opening. The slight
stricture gave way against his push, and then came the battle. Reece took hold
of the shoe again and arched his hips, working his way in tiny increments
deeper into her channel.

“Goddamn. You’re even tighter,
sweetheart.” He panted, holding back from delivering his seed that very moment,
Candace splayed and vulnerable beneath him. Lord, he loved her.

She moaned and lifted into him,
moving her hips despite his weight and her position, and, as always, he fell
into the depths of her eyes, fixed on him with such telling emotion. His woman
sometimes struggled to voice her feelings for him, taught early by her distant
father, but she showed them with all of her heart.

Ever so slowly he pressed deeper,
warring for space against the unforgiving plug, knowing Candace would be
experiencing such stretching and pressure that she’d have the mother of all
orgasms if he could hold on. Gritting his teeth, he said
it,
put his niggling worry out there. “This is the closest you’ll get to being
double-fucked, sweetheart. No other man touches what is mine.”

A spurt of hot fluid drenched him
and he slid in balls deep, coming up against her cervix, but it was the lifting
of the haze in Candace’s blue orbs that he truly experienced. She pierced him
with that one look, a sweet, burning, welcome arrow to his heart.
“Yours, Reece.
Only yours.”

Reece reined in his rogue cock
enough to make good on his promise, driving Candace up and over the cliff of
release, her keening cry a signal for his own, strangling orgasm.
Such a delicious agony.
When her clenching sheath milked the
last of his ejaculate, he slumped to the side, pulling her with him to bask in
the closeness of body—and soul.
  

****

Candy lay nestled against Reece’s
solid form, his slowing heartbeat matching her own descent from the heights of
sexual decadence. If she had the energy she might have something else to say,
but instead contented herself with a press of her lips against his moist,
brawny shoulder. Had her Sheriff harbored
an insecurity
?
Did he think she needed more than him? Well, she hoped her total surrender
tonight had quashed such nonsense, because she was his, as utterly as he
belonged to her. A smile quirked her lips as she recalled how the brothers had
hustled Sinclair out the door earlier.
Their first social
time together as a group hadn’t lasted very long, but felt comfortable, if
fraught with certain sexual tension.
She hoped that tension never
dissipated, for any of them, that they’d all be old and grey and still full of
passion for their mates.

Stretching, she fit herself closer
to her man, marking the way their bodies fit together, his toned muscles
against her softness, little drifts and tendrils of sensation adding to her
languidness. She’d tell him in the morning that she would meet with her daddy,
to address any lingering issues Reece was concerned about—for her. Reece took
in a deeper breath, falling further into sleep, and she suddenly ached with a
sense of fierce protectiveness. All those years in the field, sleeping lightly,
with one eye open for insurgents, had been a hard habit to break, he’d told
her. But he slept the sleep of the just when they shared a bed, and she’d give
him that for the rest of her life, having won out against considerable odds.

Chapter Four

Gripping the wheel to control his
burgeoning need, Craig blessed the fact their ranch wasn’t too far from Reece’s
home. Sinclair sat demurely between him and his brother, and they’d have her
between them as soon as they got through the front door of their house. The
state he was in, he wasn’t sure they’d make it up to the master suite. Sure,
their ménage was new, but spending any amount of time away from their girl was
painful, and not just sexually. He and Ashton worked hard—the cattle and a
specialized breed of horses were their livelihood—but he really had to focus on
his tasks, instead of wondering how Sinclair was doing, working with local
vets,
kinda
like an apprenticeship. Working around
all those damn big animals she seemed to regard as kittens and puppies. Okay,
so that wasn’t accurate. Sinclair respected the power and unpredictability of
farm animals, and he wouldn’t disrespect her intelligence. They had to stop challenging
her about her choices. It was just that she was so little…

Wheeling into their long drive, he
marshaled his thoughts and tucked them away. He’d have a bruise on his shin
tomorrow after his ill advised comment at the dinner table. Sinclair resisted
all forms of stereotyping, and he and Ash loved her individuality, unless it
stepped out of the invisible cocoon they’d automatically spun around her, for
her safety and protection, sometimes forgetting she could take care of herself.
Not that she needed to … and he was doing it again. Wanting to keep her at
home, wrapped in cotton wool, waiting for them to come through the door and be
with her. It was selfish and caveman style, and she’d pinch him—or worse—if he
voiced those thoughts. She’d been a sweet and compliant child, and a reasonable
teenager, but the time away at school had polished her a little. Still sweet
and gentle, there was a core of steel beneath that exterior that came to the
forefront when she required it. They were proud of her for that, too.

His fingers automatically switched
off the ignition after shoving the stick into park, and he fumbled with the
door handle. Ash was already climbing out, tugging Sinclair behind him, and
Craig hustled, reluctant to be late to the party. His brother now had their
woman over his shoulder, tapping her rounded butt to the sounds of her laughter
and mock protests. Craig faltered in his gait, the utter joy he experienced
actually calming his libido. She was fucking perfect.

Ruffling the ears of the two yard dogs
as they frolicked around the humans, drawn by the frivolity, he then reached to
turn the doorknob, allowing Ash and Sinclair access. He closed and locked the
door behind him and raced up the stairs, his eyes fixed on Sinclair. All that
ebony hair trailed downward in shimmering
waves,
and
her shirt had ridden up to reveal a tantalizing slice of skin.
 
His brother carried her into the master suite
where he dropped her on the bed. She bounced and made a little shriek, giving
Ash a mock glare before turning her attention to Craig. He did his best “you
are in deep shit” stare and was rewarded with a wary, assessing look. She
skittered backward, bending her knees and using her heels and hands to move her
luscious body along, and he abandoned all pretence of cool.

Diving past Ashton, who was
smirking, Craig caged Sinclair against the mattress, using his superior size
and strength to imprison her. She engaged him in a spirited fashion, wriggling
and then tickling his ribs, only to push her hands through his hair and pull
him closer when he fused his mouth to hers. The faint, robust flavor of red
wine was tangy on her breath, and then he lost himself in the taste of pure
Sin.

Her hands slipped to his shoulders
and over his back to grasp at the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward. The feel
of her strong little hands, work roughened and tantalizing on his skin, pushed
a groan past his throat, and he rolled with her, her slight weight a welcome
burden on his chest. Still sipping her lips, he felt the bed dip under Ashton’s
weight as his brother made short work of stripping Sinclair’s boots, two spaced
thumps signifying them hitting the floor. Her hips lifted, leaving his cock
mourning the press of her mound, and he knew his brother had relieved her of
her jeans, and probably her panties.
For he could feel such
sweet, localized heat when she again rested against him.

At last he released her, and she
elevated her head to meet his eyes, hazy desire reflected back, her mouth
swollen from his tender assault. Ash eased her upward, tanned hands contrasting
with the pale flesh of her forearms as his brother pulled her to straddle
Craig, her knees tucked against his hips, wet, glistening pussy spread for his
perusal. She had such a pretty sex, downy hair cropped close, the inner folds
pink shading to crimson, and he’d become addicted to her taste.

She set her hands on his abdomen
and arched her back, knowing he was looking, aware of her feminine draw as she
learned her sexuality at his and Ashton’s tutorials. Because Sinclair was
initially shy, painfully so, he and his brother had made it their mission to
cure her of that misguided attribute. He deliberately reached to work open the
buttons on her shirt, slipping the small disks free with rigid self control,
testing all three of them as Ashton gave him a
look
and Sinclair squirmed.

“Patience,
darlin
’,”
he warned, pleased when she stilled. He spread the panels wide, and Ash
obligingly helped to remove the garment, his hands exhibiting a slight shake.
Their need for Sinclair tended to rush things, but they’d talked about this
night, and Craig was determined to take it slow.

Her breasts were restrained behind
a confection of lace, the upper slopes a smooth, tempting sight, and he drew
down first one strap, then the other, to reveal two handfuls of mouth-watering
flesh topped by those red nipples he swore tasted of raspberries. To refresh
his memory, he tried one, nibbling on the tip as the tender bud elongated
against his tongue. Sinclair shrieked, and Ash was there, having shed his clothing.

“Quit hogging her.” Ash was smiling
but he clearly was suffering from Sinclair withdrawal, and Craig relented,
shifting her to the side into his brother’s welcoming arms.

Sliding from the bed, he stripped
quickly, watching Ash tenderly kiss the nipple Craig had tormented, and then
giving the other bud the same attention. Ash was usually the more dominant with
the women he and Craig got between them, but with Sinclair they’d evolved into
equals. Craig sometimes wanted to puff out his chest like one of those darn
bantam roosters that strutted the yard.

Selecting the supplies he needed
from the nightstand, Craig stepped close to the couple. Sinclair had her eyes
closed, head thrown back as Ash feasted and suckled. She worked her hands in
Ash’s hair, and Craig’s scalp tingled in memory. He waited until his brother
released one nipple, and slipped the modified clamp on.

“
Owww
!”
Sinclair blinked wide and protested.

“Breathe through it, sweetheart.”
Ash blew on the distended bead, and she subsided. He leaned back, and Craig
attached the other clamp, mindful of Sinclair’s narrowing look.

“You like them once you get used to
them,” he said, while Ash slid down her body. She opened her mouth again,
perhaps to naysay him, but his brother must have reached his target, for her
pupils dilated and she let out a breathy moan, and fell back against the
pillow.

Giving Ash a few moments to heat
their girl up again, Craig soothed his raging cock with long strokes, twisting
his grip at the head, taking in the erotic picture they made. His brother and
best friend, and the love of his life … Ash’s dark head rested at the junction
of Sinclair’s splayed thighs, her hands clutching the bedding in frantic
movement as her head rolled from side to side. With both hands Craig freed the
clamps, soothing the sting away, rolling each nipple as she processed the
sensation all the way to her pussy. They needed to drive her higher than ever,
in anticipation of what they had in store, but they wouldn’t let her come—yet.