Gemini (12 page)

“I want you, too, Quinn.”

He tilted his head just a little, looking into her eyes. “Now?” he asked, his voice a rough breath.

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Thank you, Jesus,” he breathed. Then he lifted her, pulling her hard against his big chest, and turned. “My bed’s bigger.”

He was right about that. She’d only glanced into his bedroom up until now. The room was larger than hers and to the back, so the sliding doors there opened out onto his deck. The furniture was sleek, dark wood. The bed was a small island wrapped in cool green and another Hudson Bay blanket. He took her there and, bracing himself on one knee, laid her crossways in the middle of it. Looking down at her, he slid his hands down each of her legs until he reached her shoes. He slipped them off with a slow caress of her feet and dropped them carelessly to the floor. Then he gripped his T-shirt—The Cody Johnson Band, this time—in the middle of his back and tore it over his head. It followed her shoes to the floor, and she got a look at another hard-muscled chest.

He was all rippled planes and smooth, tanned skin. She could see the movement of his breaths—the lift of his hard pecs, the descent of his abs. It took a long moment for her to realize he was waiting for her gaze to meet his.

Maybe he was giving her one more opportunity to come to her senses, but if he was, she missed her chance. Their gazes clashed for just a moment, and then he came to her. He held his weight on his knees and the one elbow he’d planted at her shoulder. He used that hand to curl into her hair, taking a grip on her. He held himself over her, close enough that they touched when their breaths synchronized. Then he used his free hand to explore.

He started by cupping her face, running his thumb along her cheek to her mouth. He rubbed her lips roughly and then followed with his own mouth. His kiss was hot and deep. His tongue thrust into her, taking her as she knew he would take her body. He kept at it for a long time, until she quivered in need of more.

Lifting up, he watched her eyes as he ran his hand along her body, down her neck to her shoulder, where he massaged and then rubbed his thumb under the edge of her blouse to touch skin. And then to her breast. He palmed her, the heat of him burning through the lightly lined voile of her blouse and the lace of her bra. Her nipple tightened as he waited, and his interest was intense as he watched the reaction in her eyes when he grasped it and squeezed. He rolled it between thumb and finger like he was working a dial.

Gemini moaned and he gave her more, his grasp hard, tugging her breast up along with it.

“You like that,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Tell me,” he told her. “I like a talker.”

She smiled, willing to indulge. “I like your hand on my breast. I like it when you tug—”

He matched action to her words and she arched, giving herself over to sensation.

“Open your blouse.”

“Yes,” she said.

She’d changed clothes after Clay had brought her home. She’d opened her lingerie drawer and fingered the silks and lace there. The exquisite, pricey garments Bryce had purchased for her had once made her feel cheap, used. But she’d chosen a satin and lace demi-bra with matching undies in soft pink, and when she’d put them on, she’d felt wickedly sexy. She’d even studied herself in the mirror on the back of her door, for the first time truly appreciating the womanly curves of her body.

That had been all Clay. Well, not
all
Clay, because she’d felt the eyes of all three men on her body. But there was nothing like an afternoon of wildly erotic sex in the arms of a formidable, hungering man to lead a woman to reassess her powers. Clay had made plain his attraction, his mighty desire for her, with both words and action. She’d come away with a new awareness of herself.

And, apparently, a willingness to apply it.

She savored the heat in Quinn’s eyes as she moved her fingers to the buttons of her blouse—enough that she toyed with the first one, like she waited for his full attention, like it was possible she didn’t have it. He shot her a dark look once she’d kept him waiting long enough, and she had to work to suppress her smile. “This, you mean?”

“Babe,” he said, in a warning tone, and her smile couldn’t be contained.

Opening the first button, she let her breasts rise with a deep breath. The movement separated the sides of her blouse, baring the top rises of her breasts.

Quinn liked it. She saw his nostrils flare, felt the heat of his breath.

“You make me feel hot, just by looking at me.”

With a grunt of approval, he lowered himself a little, pushing her legs further open and nestling between. His hip pressed into her thigh. He had a grip on her ribs, just below her left breast, and she felt his fingers spasm there.

“Keep going.” He said it on a curse, and she reveled in her power.

Slowly she unfastened the next button, and the next. Each time, her breaths and the tension in her breasts opened the blouse further.

He dropped his head, nuzzling into her skin in the center of her chest. Then he moved to one side, his breath hot on the upper swell of her breast.

The demi-bra covered her nipple and areola, but only just. She felt his lips there, pressing against her, and the brush of his breath.

“Touch me with your tongue.”

Gemini could feel the smile of his lips against her skin. In another moment, he licked a hot path directly to her nipple. Circling her and strumming with his tongue, he had her gasping for a breath. Moving to the other side, he slid in, took hold, and sucked hard.

She moaned and rocked, seeking more stimulation at her pelvis than he was allowing her. He held her firmly with his hip at her thigh, keeping from her that contact she craved.

He drew hard on her nipple, then let go with a rough tweak. He lifted his head and looked at her. “Tell me what you need. Use words.”

“Touch me. Touch me. I need, I need…”

While she babbled, he slid her blouse down her shoulder and tugged at her bra until he’d bared her left breast. He palmed her, rolling her hard nipple, chafing her with the heat of his touch.

“Where do you need me to touch you? Say it.”

Gemini was sure she couldn’t do that. “Quinn.”

He kissed her, a deep taking. He held his mouth against hers as he stroked his hand roughly down her body, making her feel every inch of his progress. He reached her thigh and brushed her skirt up out of his way. With the lightest of touches, his thumb hovered at her…

“This is your clit. Do you want me to touch it? Stroke it? Do you need me to make you come?”

“Yes.” But she knew that wouldn’t satisfy him.

“Tell me.”

He hovered over her—his thumb at her
clit
and his face over hers. His eyes were dark on hers, his breath rough.

“Quinn,” she said. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes for a moment. Then, on a breath, she opened them and gazed into that deep green. “Touch my clit. I need to come. Touch me. Dammit.”

That last came when he finally made contact, a soft, feathery stroke. It was too much and not enough all at once. Circling, his thumb slid over smooth satin.

“Oh, God.” Gemini arched, her whole body tensing. She raised her arms up over her head in abandon. “Quinn.”

“What, baby?”

“Suck my nipple.”

“Yes.” He drew her in, hard suction that made itself felt in her core. She could feel his tongue stroking her.

“Rub my clit. Faster. Harder.”

His thumb thrummed over her, and her body quaked. “Yes. God, yes.”

He came off her nipple roughly. Just barely, she felt his fingers slide under the elastic of her panties. “Do you want my fingers in your cunt?”

“Yes.”

She’d no sooner breathed the word than he was there, his large fingers pushing deep inside.

“You’re wet.”

“Yes.” She arched again, her body mindlessly asking for more. “You made me wet. For you.” She strained against his fingers. “I want—I need—”

He waited, a silent prompting.

“F–fuck me with them.”

“Finger fuck you?”

“Yes.” She rocked, trying to make it happen. “Finger fuck me. Hard, Quinn. Hurry.”

He gave her what she wanted, hard thrusts into her pussy, making her stretch around those big fingers, going deep, rough. All the while he managed to keep his thumb on her clit, hard pressure now moving over slick, wet satin.

“Oh yes. More. More. Take my nipple again.”

His hot mouth covered her with hard pulls. He held on, sucking, fucking, rubbing her.

“I’m going to come. I’m going to—”

She went over, wildly uncontrolled, bucking so her nipple tugged against the pull of his mouth, her pussy rode down harder on his fingers, and her clit bumped itself against his thumb. “More, more,” she begged, directed. “Don’t stop. Harder. Don’t stop.”

Then words were beyond her. She moaned, tossing her head in pleasure, shuddering out a prolonged, intense orgasm. “Quinn. Quinn.”

He drove her higher, further, until it was too much, too far. “Oh. Oh.” She tried to still him, grasping his head with one hand and his wrist with the other.

But he wasn’t done with her. He kept pushing her higher, harder, until her body convulsed in its last throes and her breath came out in a guttural wail. “Ah! Ah!”

He stood down then, easing the suction on her nipple, giving a final, gentle stroke to her clit, and stilling his fingers inside her. But not removing them,
no
. Keeping his place there, so when she finally found her breath, finally calmed from that storm and opened her eyes to him, he still had a presence in her body. Still made clear his possession.

His gaze was hard, almost dispassionate. “You’re mine.”

He pushed into her once, driving home his point.

“Ow.”

Unsympathetic, he lifted a brow and pushed again.

“Yes,” she said, recognizing his intent. “I’m yours.”

His hand curled into her hair tightened, holding her gaze to his. “I don’t care if you’re Clay’s and Jace’s, too. But you are fucking mine.”

“Yes,” she said.

Maybe it was a mistake, she thought. Maybe it was the worst kind of crazy, to fall into whatever kind of relationship she had with these men when she’d just barely managed to rescue herself from Bryce’s control. They were strong, powerful men, and—
three
, for God’s sake. Or two, in any case, but she was pretty sure she knew where things were going with Jace.
On Monday.

Really
. What was she thinking?

* * * *

“Stop what you’re thinking right now.”

Quinn could read what was going on in that pretty little head like a book.

So,
yeah
, he’d let his inner caveman loose a bit. He was a man, a male animal, and he’d always accepted what that meant. Testosterone drove him, and it was for a reason. A biological reason.

It was in his DNA. If he loved a woman—if he
mated
—then she was
his
. To own, to protect, to give his life for, if it came to it. Still, he was a civilized man, a grown-up adult. So all that didn’t mean he got full control over his mate. And it damn well didn’t mean he got to beat on her.

It was nothing but offensive, her going down that path in her head he could see she was traveling. Well, offensive and, unfortunately, understandable.

So he took his fingers out of her as gently as he could. Even then, he gave a little inner sigh of appreciation for that sweet, tight, wet, hot bit of heaven that was going to be wrapped around his cock in a very few short minutes.

But he had reparations to make first. He kept his weight over her, in the way they’d ended up, him having to corral the wild bucking of her body so he could finish her off to his satisfaction.

Pushing his mate to scream her head off with sexual satisfaction was another biological drive of the male of the species. At least, that was the way he read it.

Gently, he stroked her cheek and, after a moment, he kissed her softly. Then he held himself over her, keeping up that touch on her cheek and the gentle hold in her hair. Those pretty brown eyes were soft and vulnerable. She gave her heart so easily, so freely. He could tell she already loved him, even if she didn’t know it yet.

No wonder that ass Bryce had been able to get his nasty hooks into her. Good thing she was in better hands now.

She loved him, Quinn. And he loved her back. So that was all okay.

Something was going on between her and Clay, and something would get started between her and Jace, and he found that was all okay, too. She could be his, and still be theirs, apparently. He’d have never figured on a thing like that, but it didn’t bother him in the least that it was happening. He’d like to think that whatever took place between her and Jace and Clay would just wear itself out, and she’d end up with him. But he was dead certain that the other two were thinking the same, so he was going to stop going there. Somehow, they’d find a way to all be happy with her, with…a
share
of her.

That was it. They could share her. Just the same as they’d shared a whole lot in their lives since they’d become…more than friends.
Brothers
.

He could get lost in those eyes, but he didn’t want to forget what he needed to say. What she needed to hear.

“I love you, Gemini Walker.” That other last name was as good as gone, and there was no way he was going to use it. “I’m going to trust that you know the kind of man I am.”

He brushed his thumb over her lips, keeping her silent. “I’m not going to hold back when we’re in the sack. I’m going to consider it my job—my solemn duty—to fuck you wild. You’re in my hands, then. I own you.

“That won’t apply to all aspects of our relationship. I’ll always reserve the right to protect you, but I don’t control you. You’re a strong woman, smart and capable. I respect that. I always will. And I will never hurt you, physically.”