Young, Allyson - The Promise [Siren Publishing Ménage Amour] (18 page)

He saw Sean abandon his slave-trader character like a dog shaking water from its coat. Sean really was good at this kind of stuff, and they would be sure to play with Jillian maybe every couple of weeks. He liked it a lot, too, and thought some research into the D/s lifestyle wouldn’t hurt. Unless Jillian freaked out.
God, all he wanted was to please this woman, pleasure her forever and ever
.

Peter helped Jillian totter to the bathroom where he carefully removed the beads first. Her deep intakes of air worried him a little, but she relaxed immediately, so he thought it was probably okay. Sean had used them before and believed most women really enjoyed the stimulation. Apparently Jillian had, too. The Ben Wa balls were a little more difficult to remove. Every time he reached a finger in to hook one, Jilly would clench and he would lose his grip. Finally, he realized she was doing it on purpose, so he upended her over his lap while he sat on the closed toilet, managing not to crack her skull on the side of the tub. He smacked her ass until she let him slip them out. He then ran her a tub, cuddling her close while it filled, neither of them saying much of anything.

Sean came in with the water and took in the tender moment.

“I tried to cram too many experiences into one day, eh?” he said. “Although I really wanted to ream Jillian’s ass when the beads had done their job.”

Peter watched as Jillian lifted her head and gave Sean a look, but she didn’t say anything.

Sean continued, “You like a bite of pain, honey, and I’ve fantasized about shoving in there and fucking you hard and fast. But we’ve got lots of time ahead to get to that.”

Jillian shrugged against Peter’s shoulder. “We’ll see,” she said.

Peter reflected that this was about what she would allow them.
Shit
,
Jillian had all the power in this relationship
. He thought that was just fine, and it looked as though Sean had accepted it as well.

Sean helped Peter get her into the tub, and they peeled off their leathers to get in with her, Sean holding the bottled water to her lips and kissing the drops off her mouth as Peter had done earlier. Jillian leaned back against him, her eyes closed, her lips curving into a smile.

They let her soak a long time, adding more hot water as it cooled, watching the marks on her belly darken with the heat and then begin to fade. Peter thought about what kind of rings they would get. He figured he could maybe include their collective birthstones. Both he and Sean had been born in July, and Jillian’s birthstone was a pearl. He could visualize a huge, lustrous pearl set between two rubies in platinum. He and Sean could have matching platinum bands.

He held back a chuckle when Sean murmured, “C’mon, babe, last scene of the day.”

Jillian yawned and shook her head. “Nope, dinner and a movie.”

“Dinner and then the last scene,” Sean countered, to Peter’s approval.

* * * *

Jillian opened her eyes and saw Peter watching her anxiously, hopefully. Sean just waited. Well, fine. But she was having dinner first, and not at their feet like a slave girl.

The forgotten lunch became their dinner. Jillian sat between them at the breakfast bar, wearing one of Peter’s painstakingly ironed shirts. Sean apparently rarely took his suit coat off, so as long as his collar, cuffs, and the bit of shirt that showed in the front was wrinkle free, he didn’t care and never ironed. So of course Jillian wore Peter’s. She noticed that Peter winced, but he kept quiet. As before, both men fed Jillian from their plates as well. She took the edge off her hunger and refused dessert. Instead, she drank down another bottle of water. All that screaming and carrying on made her thirsty. She suspected that what her guys had planned for her was going to be pretty special. Peter’s face had been an open book, and Sean fairly vibrated with tension. She pushed back from the counter and hopped down.

Peter and Sean uncoiled their lengths to stand and face her. Jillian resisted the urge to run and docilely let them herd her down the hall to the bedroom. She stopped short in the doorway, nearly getting walked over by Peter. So that was what Sean had been up to while Peter put the food together. A black leather contraption hung from the hook in the ceiling. She forced herself closer to examine it, and Sean began to unbutton Peter’s shirt.

“What is this?” she asked.

“A swing, also known as a hanging chair, babe,” Sean answered, pulling the shirt from her and tossing it onto the bed.

“We’ll strap you into it and then fuck you standing up, honey,” Peter explained. “You’ll like it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You will, Jillian, really. Trust us,” Peter urged, once again wearing that hopeful look.

Jillian took a breath and nodded her head. They hadn’t steered her wrong yet. Sean and Peter each placed a hand under her thighs and an arm around her shoulders, lifting her and then setting her into the chair. Her legs slipped through separate openings, and Sean secured her with a strap around her waist while Peter held her up. Her arms slid through two openings higher up and then were raised to be coupled together above her head. It was like when they hung her up but she was more in a sitting position, her ass and pussy exposed and hanging free. When Sean arranged some straps and her legs were pulled wide, her calves dangling, it really felt like a swing or a chair. Jillian pumped her feet experimentally and sure enough the little action propelled her forward and then back in a slight movement. The sight of Peter and Sean playing rock, paper, scissors transfixed her.

“What are you doing?” she asked, suspiciously.

Peter flushed but spoke up. “We’re deciding who stands behind and who gets the front.”

Jillian glared at them. “For God’s sake. My sexual education awaits, and you two are fucking around with a kid’s game. And remember condoms. No more tempting fate.”

Peter smiled sweetly and swooped in for a kiss. Jillian’s pussy promptly added to the moisture it had already produced when she first saw the chair. Her nipples hardened when Peter blew in her ear and stepped between her legs. He had shucked his boxers, and his erection was especially formidable. Sean nuzzled the nape of her neck, making her shudder, and she turned to try and kiss him. He leaned in and sucked her tongue into his mouth, and she felt his cock poking at her ass. He worked some lube in there with a finger or two. They were going to fuck her together, and she knew that the movement of the swing would allow them to simply hold firm and she would be impaled and helpless to do anything other than accept it. It was really hot, and she knew they would take care of her. Sean was testing her wetness, and she felt a lot of lube flood up her pussy.

Sean bent into her slightly and, to her surprise, fitted his cock to her vaginal opening. He straightened and thrust as he did so. Jillian gasped as he filled her to the hilt. Peter stroked a finger where she and Sean were joined. She felt more lube and stared up into Peter’s eyes as he stared back at her, his face taut with control and desire.

“Relax, Jillian,” he urged. “Let me open you a little.”

Jillian felt Peter hook a finger just inside her vagina and pull. It stung, and she flinched, and then his cock began to inch its way in beside Sean’s as he straightened and thrust upward.

“No,” she cried out. “You’re too big, Peter. It won’t fit. Stop.”

Peter immediately halted his progress but didn’t pull out. She felt him nearly panting against her shoulder, all her senses hyperalert. She wanted him to pull out, to stop, but she also wanted to have them both inside her pussy at the same time. That suggestion by Sean had never really passed from her memory. Surely they weren’t any bigger than Sean’s fist had been. She tried to relax and must have succeeded because Peter slipped up a bit higher. She felt his chest flex against her breasts as he dipped a little and then straightened, and moved higher still. She groaned as a flood of her lubricant slipped down to coat them all, and Peter surged in the rest of the way. He rocked forward a scant inch, and Sean rocked back. The fullness made her ears roar and her eyes sting.
Little pushes, back and forth. A few more.
Something tremendous rose up from her belly as the men jostled her between them, and Jillian screamed out in yet another soul-scalding orgasm, making Sean and Peter grunt with the intense pressure. Sean pulled out and entered her ass, using the copious amounts of lubricant coating his cock to ease the way. It burned, and the bite of pain centered Jillian, only to feel it turn to intense pleasure as he reamed her, dueling with Peter, who was still thrusting up into her vagina. She clenched harder on them, the swing forcing them deeper then pulling them out. Their cocks dragged against her tender tissues, and this time they went over nearly at the same time with her, Sean first, and then Peter, the heat of his ejaculate felt right through the condom at her womb.

Jillian felt like a rag doll and bet her men were glad to have the support of the chair to hold her until they could take it down and extricate her. Somehow they all got to the bed, not to awaken until morning and day seven. The day of rest.

Chapter Fifteen

Jillian felt a little depressed. Her girl parts were sore, and she had sworn off sex. Sean had tried to put his face between her legs, and she had slapped him hard, reminding him that it was day seven. Peter tried to cup her breast when she had sat up to get to the bathroom, so she slapped him, too. She hoped their cocks were sore, seeing as they had stuffed them into some pretty tight places the night before. Those tight places needed some time off. Jillian was kidding herself. She had loved the week and all the sex stuff. Not that she was going to do it every day, but once in awhile it would be a trip. Sean and Peter were full of innovative ideas for certain, and she would for sure come up with her own. That was if she wasn’t getting ahead of herself. Being pregnant was going to put a different spin on the sex. Being pregnant was going to change her whole freaking life, and that of Sean and Peter’s, too. She wasn’t going to think about it if she could help it, though, until she knew for sure.

A hot soak helped a little, although she had locked the door against the guys, really needing some alone time. Then she wished she had let them come in and help her bathe.
Crap, she needed to smarten up and get a grip.
The condo had been put back to normal by the time she woke up, and no one would have guessed that she had been fucked six ways from Sunday on every available surface in the place with the exception of the breakfast bar. Sean had muttered about that surface being perfect for a show and the spreader. She was kind of curious and felt a tingle between her legs, but quickly forced her thoughts away from it. She had taken it all this week, every bit of pleasure she could soak up, and had given two men she believed she might have come to love as much as she could in return. The future loomed, and she was scared.
Two men, maybe a baby. Oh, God. Don’t think about it.

“Jilly?” Peter spoke through the door. “Honey? Want to go for Sunday brunch at Oxford’s? We’d like to take you.”

Jillian forced the tears back and tried to speak normally. She dredged up some justifiable anger and answered him. “I really have nothing to wear, Peter, if you recall.
Somebody
chopped up my skirt!”

“We could stop by your place so you can change, maybe water the plants and stuff.”

Jillian sighed. She really should just go home and hide for the rest of the day or get organized for work. She didn’t think she wanted them at her place. It might prove to be her sanctuary.

“You can loan me your shirt and a belt to make it look like a dress. That should get me in past the doorman. But I just want to go home.”

Sean’s angry voice thundered through the door. “Get out of the tub and get dried off and come for brunch, or I’ll come in and get you.”

“Fuck you, lawyer boy,” she shouted back, and then burst into noisy tears.

There was a scraping noise at the door, and the knob turned and it flew open, framing Sean and Peter as they tried to get to her at the same time. Sean got a shoulder in first and stalked forward to reach down and pull her up and out of the tub. Peter held a towel up and wrapped it around her. Jillian kept crying, and Sean folded her to him and patted her back.

“It’s okay, babe. I’m sorry I yelled.”

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” she sniffled. “I hate this whiny side of me.”

Peter stroked her hair. “It’s okay, honey. You’re worn out and upset about things.”