Three Men and a Woman: Annabelle (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (19 page)

BOOK: Three Men and a Woman: Annabelle (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
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She was just short of asleep when Ro spoke.

“You guys failed make her come, you know.”

He stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at them, ready, apparently, to take one for the team. His dick was hard, thrust out, and he was wiping his hands on a small towel.

He hadn’t used a condom when he’d ass-fucked her. He’d cleaned up for round two.

She’d loved him first. She would never say no to him. And she knew he’d take care of her need as well as his.

After all, she had to admit it was still there. She couldn’t take a double-fuck, mouth and ass, have her men coming hard in her, and not get all hot and bothered herself. She might be a little sore, have some tender parts, but that didn’t mean her pussy didn’t have a little throb going on.

“Lay her out,” he instructed. “Hold her legs for me.”

“Yeah, man.”

That was Kevin, mister rough and always ready. He scooted over and pulled her along with him to the center of the bed. He grabbed one leg behind her knee and lifted it up and open. “Get the other side, Brae.”

Soon she was splayed open, two men holding her, and one staring down at her defenseless pussy. That one rubbed his cock and enjoyed the view for a bit.

“Feed them your tits, baby.”

Oh, that was evil. She looked at Ro, at the hot sizzle in his eyes, and shuddered, a small whimper keening out.

He could have just told them to suck on her. That would have been enough.

She knew he could see the chafed redness of her ravaged nipples. He would know that they were among her over-used tender spots.

She would take it, and love it, even, if they just put their heads down and started sucking on her. But, to offer them—to lift her breasts and submit her sensitized nipples, one to each man at her side—well, that took some bald nerve. It was a wicked, twisted instruction that sent a sharp kick of pleasure through her.

She dropped her head down onto the bed, gathering herself. She knew she wouldn’t refuse his directive, and he knew it, too.

Still, he wasn’t that patient.

“Do it, babe.”

“Rowen.”

“Babe.”

There was a world of communication in those two words. Plea, command. Surrender, domination. Excitement, understanding. Need, love.

She did what he wanted. She grasped her breasts, lifting them up, and offered a nipple to each hovering, greedy mouth. They took her, Braeden and Kevin, into their hot cores. They pulled hard then soothed with their tongues, unspoken but identical stimulation. Inevitably, they turned her on more, had her writhing, whimpering again.

“Open her harder.”

Her knees were pulled higher, wider.

She felt the compression of the mattress under Rowen’s weight. Still, it was long moments of waiting, of anticipation, before finally,
finally
Ro took her with his mouth.

He went directly to her clit and sucked hard. She’d have been coming within seconds, but he lifted away, breaking suction abruptly, causing her to cry out.

“You’re not going to come until I say so.”

He ate her then, sucking her pussy, tonguing her deeply. He rubbed his cheek and jaw against her clit, his whiskers abrading. He nuzzled and licked her, then went back to tongue-fucking her cunt.

He brought her to the precipice more times than she could count. Each time the urge was stronger, the sharp claws of pleasure drawing her higher.

Finally, she could take no more. “Ro! Please! Let me come!”

He tongued her clit one more time. “But I want to fuck you, babe. I need to.”

“Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me!”

She held Kevin and Braeden to her breasts, mashing them against her, urging them to suck harder. She bucked, knowing that Ro was lifting up, getting ready to fill her, and unable to wait for it.

On one wild strike she found him, his hard cock, with her begging, weeping pussy. She pushed herself onto him, able to get only an inch or two inside her with the way Kev and Brae held her.

“Rowen!”

With a harsh laugh he reared up and plunged into her. That was all he had to do before she was coming, screaming out, crying, and convulsing. But he didn’t let it go at that. He thrust and ground into her, again and again. His hips pistoned, slapping into her. He drove her, keeping her at a prolonged, excruciatingly intense orgasm as he rode to his own release. He let out a guttural roar as he seized, shooting into her.

In a few more thrusts he was done and tore away from her, flinging himself across the foot of the bed, gasping to draw breath.

She felt the same, stimulated to her last nerve, too sensitive to touch. She curled to her side as Kev and Brae also flopped away.

The four of them lay there a good long time, awe at the wonder of their relationship sighing out with every breath.

Finally, Ro pulled himself to his feet. “She’s with me tonight.”

He dragged her to the edge of the mattress, then lifted her in his arms and took her to his bed.

 

* * * *

 

Annabelle slept late, finding herself alone in Ro’s bed when she woke. She rolled over and snuggled into the blankets for a bit, savoring that still just slightly tender sensation of her well-used body. And her well-used heart.

She wallowed around in that for a good while, her remarkable good fortune in finding these three men, in loving them and having them love her. She was so grateful to her mother for having the courage to take the love that life had offered her, unashamed. Without that inspiration, Annabelle doubted that she would have had the nerve to fully love and accept her three men, to choose a lifestyle that was so unconventional and yet so very right for the four of them.

Aware of her blessings, her own little miracle, and holding it close in her heart, she got up to shower. Then she dressed—short skirt, no panties, small top with tits not quite tucked all the way in, fuck-me heels—just the way her men liked her.

They were lounging around the dining table, each one more handsome, more virile than he had a right to be. And each one turned to her, watching her approach with avid appreciation.

They’d made a real breakfast and left a plate for her. Before she sat, she went to each of her lovers to collect a kiss. The kisses were long and deep, involving loving words that ranged from sweet to crude, and caresses, gentle or greedy, that took advantage of the deliberate, convenient chinks in her clothing.

She had to settle her breath a little before she could eat. Her guys watched her do it, proud of themselves like a trio of roosters.

“We got the house,” Ro said with a pleased smile.

“Excellent,” she said. She never doubted Ro’s ability to get what he wanted.

The house was indeed excellent. He’d shown it to her, as though her approval was really in question, before the deal was to close. Ro had found them the perfect place, an old three-story Victorian that had been used as a bed-and-breakfast. To Annabelle, it seemed just short of a mansion. It had good-sized suites and smaller rooms that could accommodate any new additions to the family. It had a spectacular sunroom she’d use as a studio. Best of all, it sat on a great lot, with stately trees and plenty of space to run and play. Ro had decreed that it was a “reasonable” commute, but as a group the three theater people had determined that they’d keep the condo, too, for the busiest weeks when rehearsals and performances took up most hours of the day and night. Annabelle would stay there, too, as she wanted, when she had a meeting for a potential commission, or a show she wanted to see, or, as Kev had pointed out, when one of her men was too busy to get home and required a booty call.

She’d never be alone in the new house, they’d assured her, entirely unnecessarily. She was fully certain that there would never be a time that at least one of them wouldn’t want to spend part of the night or day with his cock in its favorite place. They would never all be at their busiest moments at the same time, they claimed, and, in fact, Brae’s writing schedule seldom demanded “theater hours.”

Annabelle was confident she’d be okay with this plan. She anticipated that she’d enjoy the occasions when she had only one of her men home with her. Even now, she liked the intimacy when she was alone with one of them, and the lovemaking. She had not a single complaint about hot, rowdy group sex—she never wanted that to end—but she did love the tender moments when one of her men had her all to himself, when she was filled by him, loved by him.

They toasted each other, and Rowen’s realty success, with their glasses of orange juice.

The three men looked at each other a moment, then Kevin spoke. “We’re ready to start making babies.”

Annabelle raised a brow. “Oh, we are, are we?”

“Well, we mean if you are.”

She considered. Her marriage to Ro would take place in a little more than a week. She thought of her work, which she loved. She thought of the three demanding men she loved.

Would she have room for more—a baby, or, apparently,
babies
—in her life? In her heart?

Three loving, beloved faces watched her. It only took a moment for her to be sure. “I’m ready.”

They all three stood, making her laugh, though there was a breathy little catch in it. They all looked so very eager. “Right this very minute? Don’t we have to discuss this a bit first?”

Three men shook their heads.

Brae spoke. But they all stayed standing. “Here’s what we’ve decided. You tell us if you agree.

“We debated about taking steps to make sure that the one of us you’re married to at the time would be the one to father the baby you have during that marriage.”

She understood what those steps would be. Only one guy would be fucking her pussy—bare, at least—until she conceived.

“But we decided that, if we’re really going to be a family, which is what we want, then it shouldn’t make any difference. All of the children will be yours. They should all be all of ours, too.”

Ro nodded and took over for him. “We decided it didn’t matter who goes to doctor’s appointments with the kid or teacher conferences or whatever.” He grinned whimsically. “We’ll all be going to the school play.”

Where his child would have the starring role, he was saying, and she smiled back, indulging his cockiness.

He shrugged. “Maybe, but hopefully not, one day it might be important to know. Maybe one of them needs a kidney donated or something. We could determine who’s the bio dad if we needed to, we’ll all be right here. But we probably won’t ever need to, and so we think it shouldn’t matter.”

She looked around the table and each of them nodded, entirely confident and committed. She’d thought her heart couldn’t be more full of love, but it was, this moment. “I’ll stop my pills, then.”

She stood, too, and opened her arms to them.

The looks on their faces changed now, turning to a sharp glimmer of determination, each and every one of them.

They were a competitive bunch.

She tamped down a little thrill of anticipation as they circled around her.

Her pussy was going to be a busy place for a while.

 

 

THE END

 

WWW.RACHELBILLINGSNY.COM

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 

 

Rachel Billings took her pen name from her hometown. These days she lives, works, gardens, and writes in Western New York, but she still misses that big sky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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