Stay With Me (3 page)

Pain. Pain that he’d caused. And worse, a loss of hope. As if she’d given up on him and their marriage.

He clenched his fist and pushed himself off the wall. How could he undo several years in a matter of a few days? How could he make her see that he loved her and didn’t want to lose her? It wasn’t as simple as apologizing. He could sense the difference in her. The resolve.

In a hurry to return to her, he washed and stepped out, dragging a towel over his body to dry it. His balls ached, and his cock was stiff as a board.

Naked, he walked back into the bedroom where Catherine still lay, her blond hair spread over the pillow. She looked at him as he approached, her expression wary, a mixture of sadness and desire in her eyes.

He sat down on the bed beside her and reached out a hand to touch her cheek.

“I know we need to talk,” he said quietly. “But I’m no good with words. Let me show you, Cat. Let me love you. Then we’ll talk. I promise.”

Her eyes were shiny, brimming with moisture.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.

The softly spoken words signaled her surrender, and he closed his eyes in relief. Then he reached up to untie her hands.

She turned fully on her back, watching him beneath her lashes. He could see her indecision, and he didn’t want to give her a chance to change her mind.

He stood beside the bed and trailed his fingers over her breasts, stroked her puckered nipples then caressed his way over her soft belly.

“Spread your legs,” he said.

She hesitated just a moment before relaxing her legs, allowing her thighs to part, giving him a tantalizing view of her pussy.

Silky blond curls guarded her tender pink flesh.

“Touch yourself,” he said huskily. “Open yourself for me.”

Her right hand glided slowly down her stomach until it hovered over the soft mound. After a brief pause, her fingers slid into the folds, spreading until he could see the opening to her pussy and her swollen clit.

Her middle finger stroked once then twice over the quivering bud. She moaned softly and closed her eyes. God, she was sexy. Head thrown back, hair streaming over the sheets, her lips parted as a sigh escaped them.

He crawled onto the bed, positioning himself at her feet. He bent down and pressed his lips to the inside of her ankle. Gently grasping her slender leg in his hand, he kissed a path upward, licking and nibbling.

When he reached the juncture of her thighs, he scooted down to her other foot and began again, giving this leg the same tender treatment.

Her breath caught when he nipped the inside of her thigh. His lips hovered over her pussy, and he smiled as he felt her hold herself in anticipation.

He moved instead to her belly and blazed a wet trail up her taut abdomen to the swells of her breasts.

“Oh…” The gasp escaped her lips as he sucked her nipple between his teeth.

Her hand left her pussy, and she dug her fingers into his hair, holding him to her breast.

He tugged himself away and moved his body up until his face hovered over hers. He kissed her, wanting to taste her, wanting to capture her sweet sounds into his mouth. He wanted to absorb every inch of her, make her forget everything but the fact that he was here with her.

Catherine broke away with a ragged breath. She sucked in mouthfuls of air before Rhys captured her mouth once again. He moved with urgency. He touched her, kissed her like he hadn’t since they’d first been married.

Hot, wild, she wanted to crawl right out of her skin. Restless and aching, she could no longer remain still, no longer allow him control.

She pushed at him, rolling him off her. He looked at her with bewildered eyes as she rose over him, letting her hair spill onto his chest.

Placing both her hands on his shoulders, she lowered her head and consumed his lips in a hungry, carnal kiss. Too long had she gone without the close physical intimacy she craved, and now she wasn’t content to lie back and allow him to call the shots.

When she pulled away to gasp for breath, she saw the surprise in his eyes, but she also saw something else. Want. Need. Curiosity. Desire.

A smile curved her lips. A wicked smile she hoped.

She straddled his body, shoving his arms upward. He arched one brow but allowed her to dictate his movements. When his hands were above his head, she trailed her fingers down the undersides of his arms until she reached his broad chest.

She shifted her body until she cradled his cock between her legs. Hard, thick, it brushed against her wetness, and she rubbed up and down, loving the electric currents that raced through her body every time her clit nudged the head of his penis.

“Tease,” he gasped out.

“This is my show,” she murmured as she continued to rock back and forth.

She leaned forward and nipped at his neck. Lightly at first, then she sank her teeth into the corded muscle behind his ear. He groaned and shifted underneath her. He started to lower his arms, but she sat up and put both hands on his chest in protest.

“Don’t move.”

He grinned and slowly let his hands fall back to the pillow. “I think I like you this way.”

“Maybe I should have done it sooner, then,” she whispered. “Maybe you’d want to spend more time with me if I had.”

His eyes darkened into what looked like regret. “Cat—” he began.

She put a finger over his lips as he had done hers earlier. She reached between them with her other hand and grasped his swollen cock. With a twist of her hips, she positioned him at her entrance and slid down, engulfing him.

His entire body tensed and he moved his hands up, paused then let them fall back to the bed as if remembering her earlier dictate.

“Oh God,” he groaned. “You feel so good.”

“Tell me what you want,” she said breathlessly. She stared down at him, stilling her movements. Then she arched, sliding nearly off of him.

“Cat…”

“Tell me,” she commanded.

“I want you to fuck me,” he growled. “I want your hands and lips on me. I want my dick so far in your pussy that I’m drowning.”

She slid her palms over the hard muscles of his chest and slowly lowered her hips until he was fully within her again.

“Harder,” he said.

“I want you to beg,” she countered, her eyes locked with his once more.

A sound had her turning her head to see Logan standing in the doorway to the bathroom. Naked, his cock stiff and distended, his hand curled around it as he stroked back and forth.

He watched silently as she stared at him, her body still, Rhys buried deeply within her.

His fingers rolled over his engorged penis, coaxing the foreskin toward the head, pausing, then pulling downward again.

She knew he liked to watch. It aroused her too. There was something primal, forbidden, about belonging to two men, having one watch while the other pleasured her.

Slowly, she turned her attention back to Rhys. His hands were still above his head, and she leaned forward, gripping his shoulders as she lifted her hips, sliding up his cock with a leisure that contradicted the edgy need boiling just under the surface of her skin.

She trembled, shaking with the force of her desire. It had been too long, and she craved him. Craved them both with a desperation that frightened her. How was she supposed to survive the decision she must make? How was she supposed to exist away from them?

How could she remain with them when she was never a priority?

She let her chin fall to her chest in a gesture of defeat. She was fooling herself. Yes, she wanted them. Loved them with every breath. But it wasn’t enough. They had to want and need her every bit as much.

Rhys reached up to touch her cheek, light and seeking, tentative almost as if he feared what he’d see in her eyes.

“Cat, I love you,” he whispered. “Please believe that.”

Warmth seeped through her veins, lighting hope in its path. She wanted to believe him. Wanted it more than anything.

One hand fell to her hip. The other hand crept to the opposite side, then down, cradling her buttocks in his firm grip.

No. This was her moment. She was in control. She wanted to hear him beg. She wanted him to feel the desperation she did. Wanted him to ache every bit as much as she did.

Pulling his hands away, she pushed them back up above his head. As she leaned forward, she purposely brushed the tips of her breasts across his mouth.

She felt his sigh blow over the taut peaks as she turned one way then the other, teasing him. He loved her breasts. Logan was more of an ass man. Her cheeks heated as she recalled how much he loved her ass. Rhys, on the other hand, spent a lot of time touching, licking and sucking her breasts.

When they did it at the same time? Heaven.

She nearly groaned aloud as the image of Logan fucking her ass while Rhys devoured her breasts came to mind.

She lowered herself another inch, fitting a puckered nipple to Rhys’ lips. Her pregnancy had brought changes to her breasts, and she inhaled sharply as he took the nipple in his mouth. He sucked at it greedily, drawing it between his teeth. The sounds he made, like a man starving, drew in her stomach, clenching every muscle. Hot. Erotic.

She pulled away when the sensation became too much, locking her hands over his arms when he tried to move to hold her down. Remembering her plan, she rose and fell against him, taking him deeper into her pussy.

He closed his eyes, strain evident as his face creased in near agony. His breaths tore from his mouth, and he bucked upward with his hips.

“Beg,” she whispered. “I won’t end it until you beg.”

When she felt him tense underneath her, she stopped completely, staving off his impending orgasm.

A tortured groan spilled from his mouth. “Cat,” he gasped. “Please.”

She leaned down and pressed her tongue to the center of his chest. She licked upward, leaving a warm, damp trail to his neck. When she nuzzled into the hollow of his throat, she clamped down with her teeth, nipping sharply.

His jaw went slack, and his pulse sped up. His heart pounded against her. One long delicious lick, up over his chin to his lips and then she took him, hard, in an aggressive kiss. All of the frustration came rushing out. Months of longing, painful need.

She dug her knees into his side and began to ride him. Her body undulated as she rose. She threw her head back, closed her eyes and concentrated on the pleasure rolling like the waves at the beach.

His hands skimmed over her belly, then up to cup her breasts, much more sensitive now. Her nipples were darker, and any stimulation was almost painful to bear.

She put her hands over his, holding them in place as she arched over him again and again.

Remembering that Logan was watching, she glanced over her shoulder. He met her gaze, his fist pumping at his swollen cock. But he wouldn’t come.

She smiled. No, he’d find his release after he made her come. For a moment, she slowed, wanting to prolong Rhys’ orgasm, thus making Logan wait longer.

“Finish it, Catherine,” Logan growled.

She turned back to Rhys, a slight smile curving her lips.

“You’re such a tease,” Rhys said in a strained voice.

His thumbs brushed over her nipples, and she flinched. He frowned.

“Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head. Determined to distract him once more, she picked up her pace. Her fingers dug into his sides. He slid his hands down to cover hers. His fingers threaded through hers in a tender gesture, one that brought tears to her eyes.

Then he squeezed and his body bucked upward. “God, Cat, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

She wasn’t as close to her own orgasm yet, but that was okay. Logan would soon take care of that. A wicked smile worked at her mouth.

She rode. Hard and unrelenting. She writhed and twisted, coaxing him higher until his back bowed off the bed as he sought to get deeper inside her.

His cry split the room. His cock pulsed within her, and she clutched him to her, cradling him with her body, surrounding him as she milked his release.

Her breath caught when he placed his palm against her belly, almost as if he knew what secret she harbored. Emotion swelled, sharp and aching. How she’d always dreamed of giving them a child. Of having their loving devotion throughout her pregnancy. Of creating a perfect family.

His hand moved, sliding around to her back, and then he pulled her forward, enfolding her in his arms. He tucked her head underneath his chin and stroked her hair lovingly as he sought to catch his breath.

“I love you,” he whispered, and for a moment she could forget past hurts. Focus on the present. Remembering would only ruin the moment, and it might be the last.

And yet she couldn’t utter the words, no matter that she did love him. More than anything. Deeply, passionately, with every piece of her soul. Saying them hurt because it forced her to acknowledge that no matter how much she might love him—and Logan—in the end it wasn’t enough.