Highland Obsession (32 page)

“Open, Sorcha.” Alan’s order seemed to come from far above her.

Instantly, she opened her lips, moaning when Cam’s cock stretched her mouth wide, his male taste heady against her tongue. Just as Alan’s cock stretched her, pulsing inside her. He was close, but he moved as slowly as she did, holding back from bursting inside her. She could feel his restraint in the trembling muscles of his forearm.

Cam was tentative at first. With his fingers wrapped in her hair, he allowed her to set the pace. Cupping her palm under his ballocks, she nudged him forward until his crown tapped the back of her throat.

Alan made a small noise above her and matched her pace, settling deep against her womb. She arched her hips to meet him, still gripping his forearm with her free hand.

Cam slid out, and so did Alan. It wasn’t long before they’d settled into a rhythm, both shuttling in and out of her wet and willing passages. Something coiled tight in Sorcha, wound like a ball of yarn centered low in her abdomen. She arched her back and tugged on Cam’s sac to encourage them to move faster, harder. She wanted to be taken, to be pummeled. She wanted them to hold on to her by a thread and let her unravel, because she couldn’t bear the aching tension. Not for much longer.

But they resisted her pull, even as she felt them both grow harder inside her. Cam’s veins pulsed on her tongue, under her lips. Alan’s cock stretched her even wider, making her gasp over Cam. Each of their thrusts made her groan in sweet agony.

And then, suddenly, it changed. As if the men had silently communicated. Or perhaps they had spoken to each other and she simply hadn’t heard, too lost in sensation. But Alan’s fingers tightened over her hips. Cam’s fingers tightened in her hair. And their thrusts deepened, hardened. Quickened. Cam took over completely, forcing her head forward in time with thrusts of his hips. She had no choice but to take him all, so deep she could feel the hairs at the base of his shaft tickle her lips.

Alan pummeled her channel. She tightened even more, closing around him, milking him with her muscles even as her lips tensed around Cam’s cock. Her hips tilted and her legs wrapped around Alan, encouraging him as deep as he could go. Cam’s fingers tugged at her hair as he pulled her away from his cock until his head rubbed at her lips, and then they dug into her scalp as he pushed her to the base again, her lips feeling every inch of his steely length encased by softest satin.

Every part of Sorcha screamed in aching sensitivity, from her curling toes to the roots of her hair. Her body was not her own. Surely someone else was making those mewling noises. Surely someone else’s body was undulating wildly on Cam’s bed. She certainly wasn’t knowingly doing either. Yet she still felt everything, every nuance, from the soft sheets under her to the bite of Alan’s fingers in her side to the cool air brushing over her tender nipples. She noted her lack of control with distance, yet acceptance. She was completely ruled by the two men, and moving on instinct.

The ball of tension within her coiled tighter, and her whimpers became cries.

Still controlling the movement of her head with one hand, Cam’s fingers traced the shell of her ear, then traveled down her neck, her chest, and came to rest on her breast. He palmed the tight, aching peak. Sorcha sobbed over his cock.

Oh Lord, she was going to come apart at the seams.

And then Alan moved his hand from her waist to take control of her other breast. In synchronized motion, both men thrust deep, simultaneously pulling hard on her nipples.

She fell over the edge. Cam held her tight, her lips touching the base of his cock, and as if from a distance, she felt his seed splash against the back of her tongue. Tasted his familiar tang.

The hot coil inside her burst open. Exploding in her core and branching through her limbs like dazzling bolts of lightning.

She might have truly flown apart, but both men held on to her, keeping her grounded and sane. Cam’s fingers tight against her scalp, Alan’s palm rounded over her hip, holding her steady.

Slowly, she returned to earth, rejoining her body on the bed. Her muscles twitched, still full of the beautiful, tingling buzz of sensation her orgasm had produced. Her mouth was still full of Cam’s cock, and now crowded with his come. She swallowed convulsively, and he gently pulled away, loosening his fingers from her hair.

She looked up at him for the first time in what seemed like hours. He smiled down at her, his brown eyes soft and full of love. “Thank you.” He stroked a lock of sweat-drenched hair away from her face.

She swallowed again, savoring the residue of his release coating her tongue and relishing the thought that she could make him look at her like that. Such . . .
devotion
.

“Good, Sorcha.”

She glanced up at Alan, feeling a little guilty, for he hadn’t yet achieved his release. Yet he didn’t look angry in the least. He looked as she’d felt mere moments ago, dazed with lust, longing, and need.

“Very good,” he whispered. “You pleased him. You please me too.”

He pulled out and thrust deep again. She’d thought the tissues between her legs sensitive before, but now they were finely tuned to the most miniscule movement. When he brushed against her inner walls, sparks crackled through her. When the tip of his cock nudged the entrance to her womb, she shuddered from the fiery heat that flared through her belly. And when the lower part of his abdomen pressed against her clitoris, it fanned the flames.

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t,” she murmured. “Oh, Alan, I—”

“You can,” he rasped. “You can and you will.”

After a long moment of white-hot pleasure-pain, Alan slipped out of her, and she opened her eyes.

Pale fluid leaked furiously from his cock, and she looked up at him in alarm. Alan froze on his knees, eyes shut, clearly willing himself not to come. Sorcha scrambled up in front of him, taking his cock in her fist and licking away the creamy liquid. She nearly groaned at his taste. Her husband’s taste, warm and bittersweet, tore through her.

Hers
.

Gripped in a fiery clutch of possessiveness, she wrapped her arm around his lower back, bent her head to his cock, and took Alan’s manhood fully into her mouth.

Mine, mine, mine,
her mind sang to her with every lick, every deep suck.
This man is mine.

With strong arms, he held her at arm’s length. “Not yet,” he gasped, his chest heaving. “Soon, but not yet.”

He turned around and lowered himself to his back, lifting Sorcha over him so her legs straddled his body. Sorcha glanced at Cam, still on his knees in the corner of the bed, watching them with hooded eyes. His cock had risen again, and he curled his fingers around it.

“Fuck me, Sorcha.” Alan’s hands curved around her waist, coaxing her over his cock. “Take me deep inside your body and wrap yourself around me.”

She took his still-pulsing iron-hard rod into her hand and guided it to her entrance. She hovered above him for a long moment, savoring the feel of his cock head tickling her sensitive outer tissues. He moved impatiently under her, and a complaining noise emerged from his throat, but she smiled a secret smile of feminine power.
She
did this to him. Made him nearly mad with need, with lust. For her.

Ever so slowly, she lowered herself over him, sighing at the stretch of her body to conform to him once again. Once seated all the way, she planted her hands on either side of his head and began long drags over him, pulling out just to the verge of him falling out of her, then pushing down until she ground herself against his body with a roll of her hips.

His body stilled beneath her, and he allowed her complete control. Power.

She closed her eyes and moved against him, reveling in the slow, sweet build of her orgasm.

She hardly took note of the movement of the bed as Cam shifted his weight, but she groaned when she felt his warm, big hands settle on her lower back.

Alan’s fingers squeezed her thighs. “I don’t want Cam in your cunny,
mo chridhe
. That belongs to me now. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she breathed, locked in dark ecstasy. “Yes.”

“I want him to take your arse.”

Her eyes flew open, and she faltered in her rhythm.

Oh Lord. They would both be in her. At the same time. Close together.

Cam’s arm curled around her middle as if he recognized her hesitation. “I want to be inside you, Sorcha. One last time.” His voice sounded odd in the world she’d reserved for herself and Alan alone, but it was not unwelcome. She took comfort in the warm, solid feel of his body behind her.

And the thought of him deep in her bottom just as Alan had been last night made eager gooseflesh rise all over her body.

Alan raised his hands to cup her cheeks. “Look at me.”

She blinked at him.

“Tell us. Do you want this?”

“I—I don’t know. Will it—will it hurt?”

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” Cam said, his hands moving lower, now palming the globes of her behind. “I’d never hurt you, Sorcha. Only bring you pleasure.”

Her channel clenched around Alan’s cock, and her shoulders shook with a bone-deep shudder.

“Aye,” she whispered. “I . . . want it.”

Cam released a breath. “Just relax,” he murmured. “Relax, and make love to your husband.”

She lowered her body over Alan’s, nestling her head in the space between his chin and shoulder, breathing into the curve of his neck. She moved up and down over his cock, but more slowly now, almost languidly. He wrapped a strong arm around her waist, limiting her motion.

Cam’s fingers slid between the cheeks of her bottom, but now they were cool, likely covered in the same grease Alan had used. She gasped as he circled around the tight hole, then in a smooth motion, buried a slick finger deep inside her.

Oh. She could feel it. So strongly. She could feel him pressing against Alan’s cock through the thin membrane separating her two entrances. Her body began to tremble as he pulled out and pushed two fingers deep into her, working to stretch the tight ring of muscle.

When she thought she couldn’t take another second of it, he pulled away, and she took a great gasping breath. Her sex trembled and pulsed over Alan’s cock.

“Ah, God, Sorcha,” Alan whispered into her hair. “Goddamn.”

Gently, Cam used his fingers to separate her cheeks, and she froze, trembling, when the crown of Cam’s cock pressed against her entrance.

“Relax.” His hands stroked her back. “You’re so beautiful. So tight. Enjoy it, Sorcha. Savor it.”

She pressed her teeth together, and he began to push in, forcing the tight muscle to open for him.

Her mouth opened as a cry hovered in the back of her throat, but she buried her face into Alan’s neck. As Cam thrust deeper, the muscles all over her body grew tighter.

No more!
She wanted to cry. It wasn’t pain . . . it was the intensity. Too much. Too overwhelming. She couldn’t take any more.

Just as she was about to scream for him to stop, the muscle released the slightest bit, allowing Cam to slide all the way in, and all that emerged from her throat was the tiniest whimper.

He stayed there for a long moment, lodged deep inside her spasming passage. Below her, Alan’s breath rasped in his chest as he held her tightly against him, his palms pressing on her upper back.

Slowly, almost experimentally, Cam withdrew and then sank into her once again.

A shudder worked from deep inside her, fanning outward. And as Cam and Alan began to work in and out of her body rhythmically, all thoughts fled from Sorcha’s mind. There was only her and Cam and Alan. And how they felt against her, in her. What they did to her. How they made her feel.

She shook from head to toe as they held her pinned, working her deep, Alan sliding out as Cam slid in and vice versa. The burning lust streaking through her body sizzled every nerve ending as she trembled in their arms.

Both men picked up the pace. Their muscles flexed all around her, and sweat slickened their bodies. Sorcha’s mouth rounded in an
O
against Alan’s tense, vibrating shoulder.

Their flesh made slapping noises as they connected hard, then retreated. Over and over again, until Sorcha was drowning in a sea of white-hot sensation.

Then Alan went rigid beneath her, and with a whoosh of air from his lungs, he lifted her off him, then pressed his shaft between them. His cock contracted with a jerk, and a warm rush flowed onto her belly. It seemed to go on forever, torrents of come flowing from his cock. Cam fucked her harder, burning her arse as he thrust with everything he had. She was helpless to the onslaught. She was being blissfully torn apart, ripped open and bared.

Alan’s cock flexed and pulsed against her skin as Cam battered her behind.

Her orgasm came so suddenly and with such fury, she was unable to brace herself for it. It took her tumbling, rolling into a black abyss of sheer, raw pleasure, fraying her consciousness.

With one final, piercing thrust, Cam gave an agonized groan and he poured his orgasm deep into her bottom.

Wet heat. Contracting, pulsing. Sorcha reeled away from a conscious state and into a deep, warm bed of pleasure.

Moments later, her eyes fluttered open. The men’s hot, slick bodies pressed in on her everywhere, comforting. She took a deep breath. A carnal smell washed through her senses, and she breathed in again, taking it in like a drug.

Murmuring softly, Cam pulled away from her. Water sloshed from the basin at the bedside table, and when he turned back toward her, he pressed the cool cloth between her legs just as Alan had last night. It felt like heaven on the sensitive, overheated flesh, and she murmured her approval, rolling to settle in the crux of Alan’s arm. He smiled down at her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Sleep,
mo chridhe
. Sleep.”