Wilder's Fantasies (3 page)

Brushing his mouth over hers, he teased her lips apart. She breathed in his scent, both of them lost in the kiss, her body awash with pleasure, the ghost of earlier pain still warming her ass. Hands gliding down her body, he grasped her knees, pinning her open. His muscular back flexed with each forward stroke. Legs shaking, she knew she would come any second.

She broke free of his mouth and gasped for air. Pure ecstasy claimed her, a powerful climax racking her body. Unable to contain the waves of tremors, she hung onto Marcelo as if she feared she might wash away. His back arched and his shudders mirrored hers. Her cunt contracted, milking his spewing cock. A few final spasms and then…peace. Profound peace filled her.

They melted into a puddle on the floor. Marcelo withdrew, kissing her eyelids, her cheeks and smoothing her hair away from her face. She drank in the glow of his dusky skin and the affection in his expression. Sticky cum leaked from her throbbing slit, but she relished the sensation of having been wrung out.

“You lost control a bit.” He stroked her hair.

The temper tantrum flashed through her mind. “Sorry I slapped you. I was so frustrated that I couldn’t take what you were giving me.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. That’s what the safe word is for,” he said, rubbing her swollen asshole. “Are you sore?”

“I am. You have no idea how badly that hurt.”

“Sorry,
preciosa
, but it’s all preparation for our next game.”

The same defiance she had felt earlier flared. Fiona rolled him onto his back and propped her chin on one hand, leaning against his chest. A wicked smile twisted her lips. “I thought it was
my
choice what we do next. Or have you thrown out your own set of rules?”

Marcelo’s chest shook with a satisfied chuckle.
“
Claro, mi amor
. You’re right. The choice is always yours.”

She moved up, covering his mouth with hers, tongue toying with his. Just what she would ask for next, she hadn’t yet decided, but when she did, Marcelo would fulfill her every need. Of this Fiona had no doubt.

Free Love

A waiter carrying champagne passed by the couple. Marcelo plucked two glasses from the tray and handed one to Fiona.

“See anything you like?” Marcelo asked.

She looked around the room at the sea of attractive young men. So many to choose from. Tall blonds. Others sleek and swarthy. Stocky, solid bodies. Fiona felt a bit like a kid in a candy store, and she wanted to pick the perfect confection. On the threshold of her first
mé
nag
eà
trois, electricity crackled in the pit of her stomach, her cunt already aching with need. Goose bumps dotted her shoulders and forearms, nipples tight buttons brushing against her silken bra.

Would two men using her body for pleasure be everything she had fantasized about? She trusted Marcelo would do all he could to fulfill her desires. His attention to detail ensured each exploration had been nothing short of perfection.

“I don’t know,” she replied.

“Come,
preciosa
,” he said. “I want to introduce you to some of my friends.”

They walked across the red carpeted floor of the exclusive club. She looked around at the extravagant décor. Cornices cascaded in a frozen tide of carved plaster leading the eye down to wainscoting that framed the perimeter of the expansive room. A deep shade of plum covered the section of wall between the architectural details. Oil paintings of tasteful nudes hung in gilded frames.

Loveseats and divans covered in buttery leather formed intimate seating arrangements. Couples, threesomes and other combinations of would-be lovers huddled together in flirtatious conversation.

Marcelo walked up to a willowy man with golden hair. His sculpted neck arched into a chiseled jaw line. A small cleft marked the center of his chin. His mouth turned up in a grin.

“Chelo, how have you been?” he asked.

“Good, thanks, and you?”

“Can’t complain.”

“Tyler, I’d like you to meet Fiona.”

She held out a hand to the young man. “Hi, Tyler.”

“Lovely to meet you, Fiona.” He kissed her hand. “If I may say so, you are a beautiful woman.”

Unaccustomed to compliments, though Marcelo often told her the same thing, heat raced over her chest and up to her ears. “Thank you.”

“What do you think?” Her lover whispered in her ear.

Fiona lifted her shoulders, flustered that she had to answer in front of the man. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

“Nice to see you again, Tyler,” Chelo said.

The young man wiggled his fingers in a flirtatious wave and turned back to his group of friends.

Marcelo hooked his arm in Fiona’s and planted a kiss on her cheek, leading her across the room again. “Let’s see if you like Jonas better.”

“I liked Tyler all right.”

“‘All right’ won’t do. I want you to love him almost as much as you love me.”

Love?
Fiona wondered if what she had with Marcelo could be classified with such a pedestrian word, but she had also learned not to take the man too literally either. Honeyed words dripped off his tongue, but the veracity of those words had never been tested in the light of day. She doubted they ever would be.

A blond with Nordic facial features strolled up and shook Marcelo’s hand. “Chelo, where have you been hiding, man?”

“With this angelic lady here. Fiona, this is Magnus.”

Magnus cocked his head; his eyes roamed over her body. Fiona’s cheeks suffused with heat; the tips of her ears burned, the warmth racing down her torso and pulling at her cunt.

“N-nice to meet you,” she put out her hand.

With a handshake cold like a dead fish, he returned the salutation. “Likewise.”

During the time they had spent together, Marcelo had become in tune with Fiona’s emotions and moods. He seemed to pick up on her unease.

“Thank you, Magnus, that will be all,” he dismissed the man. An expression of relief lightened Fiona’s features.

“Sorry to be so picky,” she said.

“Be as picky as you like. We will find the right one if it takes all night.” He looked around the room again and his eyes flashed with a glint of delight. “I think I know to whom I should introduce you.”

With that, he took her arm again and escorted her to a far corner where a man of singular beauty stood, making his own survey of the room. Curls the color of cinnamon, framed his high cheekbones. Full, rosy lips pressed to his glass and parted to take in a sip of amber liquid. A crowd had gathered around him and he tried to keep up with the various threads of conversation, all directed at him. Marcelo cut through the crowd and greeted his friend. The men hugged and braced their arms against each other.

Chelo introduced the young man as
Angelito
. Indeed, he appeared to be an angel. Taken aback by his gray-green eyes, she almost forgot to extend her hand. Fiona’s arm went rigid, fingers stiff as she offered a perfunctory greeting. Perhaps in reaction to her flustered state or maybe tenderness marked all of his gestures, Angel took her proffered hand in his raised it to his lips. The warmth of the kiss sent a shiver darting through her, flames licking at her wet cunt, nipple painfully tight.

Marcelo watched the interaction with a smile. “I believe we have found the third member of our trio.”

“Oh, yes,” she murmured.

Angel bowed his head. “It would be my pleasure.”

“
Bueno
. Let’s adjourn to a more private place,” said Marcelo.

In the limo, Marcelo opened a bottle of champagne and passed around glasses. While Marcelo drained his glass, Angel took small sips. The young man’s gaze searched out Fiona’s, but she pretended not to notice, looking at the floor or at Marcelo. An unspoken transaction passed between the two men, a language of arched eyebrows and head nods. Angelito slid into the seat next to Fiona. Finally, she looked at him and gave him a self-conscious smile.

“Do I make you nervous?” he asked.

She cleared her throat. “A little.”

“
Lo siento
. It’s not my intention to unsettle you.”

Hands trembling, she reached out to touch him, but then faltered. She gathered her courage, extending a shaky, sweaty palm until their fingers touched. Soft pads of his fingertips grazed over hers, sending a frisson of electricity straight to her core.

Angel brushed the back of his hand across her cheek. Mouth suddenly dry, she took a gulp of champagne. The young man inched closer; a hand slipped up her back and cradled her neck. Fiona drew in a hiccup of a breath as he leaned into her, his exhalations gliding over her cheeks and chin. Their lips met, a soft question of a kiss that grew bolder once she melted against his solid frame.

Marcelo knelt by her side, the familiar touch of his hand making a path up her thigh. Fiona relaxed little by little until she reclined against the back of the seat. Two pairs of hands caressed her. Light-headed from the champagne and arousal, she took in the two distinct scents of her lovers. Marcelo smelled of spice and musk, Angel of citrus and vanilla. The heady blend rooted both men inside her, invaded her consciousness, seeped into her pores. Arousal and need tightened her inner walls, tugging at her mound, pulse pounding between her thighs. She shuddered, lips and fingers tingling.

The limousine came to a stop in front of Marcelo’s building. The trio parted and righted themselves. The door opened, held by a uniformed chauffeur.

Marcelo escorted Fiona through the lobby; Angel followed close behind. Two other passengers in the elevator kept the lovers’ impulses at bay, but once they had entered the condo Marcelo pulled Fiona to him in deep kiss. Angel pressed against her backside, stroking her shoulders and hair. Her head spun. Though each man’s touch differed from the other, they both elicited a visceral response. Heartbeat quickening, she felt dizzy, blood engorging her cunt, breasts tipped with hard buds, every nerve crackling with desire.

“
Uno momento, mi amor
. I’ll be right back,” Marcelo nearly whispered the words. He walked down the hall and disappeared behind the bedroom door.

Angel turned Fiona to face him. A gentle expression tugged at the edges of his mouth. Tilting her chin upward, he brushed his lips over hers. His tongue traced the inside of her mouth and skimmed along her teeth.

Marcelo returned wearing only a pair of black linen pants. The dim light from a wall sconce highlighted the peaks and valleys of his bare chest. Angel reached out and ran his hand over Marcelo’s sculpted abdomen. The two men leaned into each other, the kisses at first playful nips, then crushed their mouths together. A spark of exhilaration ran through Fiona. She had never seen two men touch each other, not like this. Heat raced through her abdomen, her cunt pounded harder. Skimming her fingertips over her hips and thighs, she could hardly wait for the pleasures to come.

“Everything's ready. Shall we play?” Marcelo took her by the hand and led her to his room. In unspoken subservience, Angel followed a few steps behind.

Indeed, Marcelo had prepared all they would need. Silken ropes secured to the headboard posts and at the foot of the bed, ankle cuffs equipped with a spreader bar attachment sat at the ready. A rush of apprehension coursed through her. It was a familiar nervousness that Marcelo had learned how to quell, but with another man added to the mix, Fiona couldn't help but feel like a novice all over again. As if he sensed her thoughts, Marcelo cupped her face in his hands, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Don't worry. You can trust Angel as you trust me. I wouldn't have invited him to join us otherwise.”

She nodded.

“Are you sure you're ready?” he asked.

Images of both men sharing her body overpowered her natural shyness, her tight mound and heated skin crying out for their touch. “Yes.”

“
Bueno
.”

With an unspoken synergy—perhaps a well-practiced routine—her lovers began to strip off her clothes. Marcelo worked at the buttons on her blouse while Angel knelt at her feet and removed her heels and stockings. The young man slid her skirt and panties down her hips and let them fall to the floor. Leaning forward, he nuzzled the curly patch of hair she had trimmed into a neat strip. Pulses of anticipation rippled through her.

Marcelo tossed her shirt aside and took a nipple into his mouth. He nibbled and teased it with his tongue; Angel mimicked the gestures below, tongue delving deeper into her slit. A long, slow moan worked up from Fiona’s chest, parted her lips, and echoed around the room.

A step at a time, Marcelo made his way around her body, leaving a trail of kisses from her breasts to her neck and shoulders, stopping at the nape of her neck. His breath gliding over her skin, goose bumps pebbling her arms, she shivered, ever-increasing need claiming her tightened core.

Angel laved at her clit with a steady, firm rhythm. Running his tongue down her back, Marcelo teased the cleft at the top of her buttocks. He licked between her cheeks, then pushed a finger into her asshole. Breathing ragged, she struggled to draw in enough air. Was this really happening? Were two beautiful men feasting on her body? She pinched and rolled her nipples between her fingers, her own juices wetting her thighs as Marcelo and Angel synchronized their strokes again. But instead of taking her over the edge, they took her to brink of climaxing and then stopped. They both withdrew.

Fiona grounded her teeth in frustration, “
No
.”

Marcelo’s reply—a wolfish smile. He led her to the bed, scooped her in his arms and laid her on the mattress. Well aware of the next step, she stretched her arms over her head.

“That's my good girl,” he murmured and gave her a soft kiss.

Marcelo tied her wrists to the bedposts. Angel moved to put the ankle cuffs on her, but Marcelo brushed away the young man's hand. Fiona's binding was Marcelo's pleasure, and his alone.

Once properly bound, her legs splayed apart, but tethered only to each other, Marcelo turned to Angel and undressed him. First the coat, and then the shirt. Lips to Angel’s caramel skin, Marcelo raked his lips and teeth over the freshly bared skin. Emitting an almost inaudible hiss, Angel stroked his hard cock, the slipped out of his pants and boxer briefs. Hooking two thumbs around the waistband, Marcelo pushed his own pants to the floor.

Eager to drink in the young man's naked beauty, Fiona turned her head and watched the men together. Both bodies exquisite, both with dusky skin pulled taut over cultivated musculature, she allowed her gaze to meander over them, noting the differences. Where Angel's form tended toward sleek and gracile, Marcelo's exhibited a robust solidity. Submission and dominance incarnate.

Angel ran his hands down Marcelo’s body and dropped to his knees. He licked at his master’s growing erection, then engulfed Marcelo's cock in his mouth. Marcelo tilted his head back, groaning, clearly enjoying Angel’s attention.

Frustration gripped Fiona; she longed to join in. Angel bobbed his head up and down, taking in all of Marcelo’s girth and length. When Marcelo’s body began to tremble, he pushed Angel away, helped him to his feet and turned the young man around. Bending him over so that Angel’s face was once again between Fiona’s legs, Marcelo licked his fingertips and rubbed between Angel’s ass cheeks. He entered the young man without as much care as he would take with Fiona, the action met with no more objection than a grunt.