Young, Allyson - The Promise [Siren Publishing Ménage Amour] (2 page)

Chapter Two

Jillian wiped the steam from the mirror and rubbed her hair vigorously with a hand towel. The bath sheet wrapped right around her, but she wasn’t fooled by the hint of armor. Sean would soon be here if he wasn’t already, and she was scared silly, despite the arousal she fought pooling between her legs.

Peter had sweet-talked her into a night of sexual excess. With her defenses down, tumbled by the euphoria of gaining the lucrative account and too many margaritas, Jillian had gone along with the plan, the erotic things he had crooned into her ear right in the middle of her coworkers turning her on beyond belief. He hadn’t waited for the door of the condo to close before he was on her like white on rice, pulling her hair out of its chignon, eating at her lips, and stealing the breath right out of her body. To be honest, she had been pulling at his suit jacket in a frenzy to get it off and flinched to remember how she had yanked his shirt open so hard that the buttons popped and flew across the room to plink against the furniture and the floor. Peter had stripped her efficiently and lost his pants and shoes and socks without any help from her, and they had rolled down the wall to the floor. The cool texture hadn’t cooled her off at all, and she’d arched into Peter, seeking his cock.

Jillian’s memories of the previous night kind of flowed into one another after that. Peter had chuckled against her breasts, lapping and nipping at her before testing her wetness with a finger. She didn’t know how he got the condom on or his boxers off, but he had plunged into her right away, with no further preliminaries, stealing her breath again, stroking and pumping until she came hard on him. They had somehow found their way to the bedroom, where Peter had splayed her at the edge of the bed and explored her pussy with his fingers and mouth. The second and third orgasms, hard on the heels of the first, had actually hurt in their intensity, a good pain, sobering her but never making her question if she was doing something she would regret. Not then.

She had sucked him off twice. The first time he had pulled out of her mouth and ejaculated over her breasts, marking her to his satisfaction, and the second time, she had swallowed him down, something she rarely did and didn’t like. With Peter it was different. The actual sex hadn’t seemed vanilla either. He had set her down on top of him, holding her hips and forcing the cadence while sucking and biting her nipples as she leaned over him, her hair stroking and shadowing his face. She couldn’t see his eyes, and she remembered wishing she could read him better. She had climaxed in that position, too, as well as when he had rolled her under him and pounded her into the mattress, biting down on her neck where it joined her shoulder. But the other time, the one that had elicited the promise, that famous, regrettable promise, was when she was on her belly, her bottom half propped up on pillows, the lights on so Peter could see everything. That time had been explosive.

Peter had her positioned to his liking while being careful of her comfort. He had lubed up her anus and played with her gently, relaxing her before inserting a fingertip. By the time he had pushed in another to join the first and began to scissor them, stretching her, Jillian had overcome her discomfort and embarrassment. Her clitoris had stood out from its protective hood in response to his touch and dirty sex talk, and her pussy had been so wet. The small plug he had pushed in caught her breath, but she had rocked back to meet it and the blooming pain was totally overwhelmed with such pleasure that Jillian nearly came with it. Peter had then kissed her buttocks and licked her between her legs before pushing his big cock inside her. She had felt so full and so wanton and heard herself begging for something, anything. He had slipped his hands beneath her and lifted her onto his spread thighs, squeezing her breasts with his big hands, hard, almost to the point of pain.

Then he had simply waited. Jillian tried to rock against him, to move somehow, but to no avail. Peter had nibbled and nipped at her shoulder again, and the shivers pulsed to her clit. Her poor button just needed a touch, a press, a rub, anything. But Peter had waited until Jillian asked him why. And he had told her. He painted such an erotic picture for her. He told her that he and Sean took women to the absolute heights of ecstasy and how they did it. He asked her if she could imagine it, and she certainly had been able to and hadn’t been shy about saying so. In graphic, mortifying dialogue. Peter asked her if she would like to try, as he kneaded her breasts and flexed his hips into her, bumping the butt plug and causing his penis to push against that spot high inside her. She would have said yes to almost anything by then and nearly sobbed out her compliance, not hesitating when he told her they would make good use of the week they had been given off work as part of their bonus. Peter had fucked her senseless then, and the combination of his cock sharing close quarters with the plug and the fact that his hand somehow snuck up on her clit and pinched it, well, she had fallen off the cliff. She hadn’t woken again until morning. Come to think of it, the butt plug had been removed, and for sure she didn’t remember that part. But now here she was, having made a promise that had been extricated from her under sensual torture, trying to find a way out of her predicament. Because, even considering how amazing last night was, Jillian knew she couldn’t do two men, especially together, and Peter was already too close to getting another piece of her. Sean might want his piece. Jillian was afraid of losing her heart. She had never felt this way about a man before, and the scary feeling applied to both Sean and Peter. She had fought the knowledge for months, sublimating it.

Jillian hadn’t dated seriously in years, and relationships never worked out for her anyhow. The men she had been with in the past found her too abrasive, too driven, too much like them. She was proud of her ability to work long, hard hours and focus on the job, but it seemed that those other men preferred softer, sweeter, less competitive women. She wasn’t thin, either, and her curves made her self-conscious. She worked hard at dressing to minimize her large breasts and booty, believing that they detracted from her professionalism. Jillian liked sex, and had gotten her fair share in college, but had been in a dry spell the past few years, not finding the time or inclination to have a life away from work that included sex and relationships. She had come to accept that her career would sustain her through the future years of her life, and until the Penney account, Jillian had been able to ignore her body’s sexual needs, and her reserve and attitude effectively kept men at bay. She had convinced herself that she would also be able to move past the attraction both Sean and Peter held for her. Last night had severely threatened her resistance, and her head and society’s rules told her forget it, forget them, or choose between them. Except there probably wasn’t going to be a choice. She was kidding herself to think she could have either of them for any length of time. They were likely playing with her, and in contrast she felt deadly serious about them.

Jillian sighed and straightened to her full height, squaring her shoulders, and headed to the kitchen to do battle, fully aware of her poorly defended position, but never a quitter. She stopped, frozen in the doorway, as the first thing she saw was the other shoe. Sean, looking delectable in faded jeans and a tight, black T-shirt stretched across his formidable pectorals and shoulders, was already here. Even his abs looked sculpted. Her eyes resolutely traveled up to his face in profile, for neither he nor Peter had seen her yet, intent on transferring food from stove to counter. Sean was shaven totally bald and had a beautifully shaped head, high cheekbones, a blade of a nose, and dark-brown eyes. Eyes the colour of bitter chocolate. His mouth was as sensuous as Peter’s, if wider and harder. Jillian was drawn to his hands, big, competent hands, with long, sensitive fingers. She shook herself out of her mental lapse, and the movement drew Sean’s attention. Sean’s eyes met hers with dark arousal, and she thought he might just have read her thoughts before her poker face came on. She watched a smile stretch across his face and then was stripped by his look as he leisurely examined her from head to toe.

“Morning, babe,” he said silkily. “Sorry I missed last night.”

Jillian fought her blush with limited success and tossed her hair back. She wished she hadn’t done it when Sean came up on point like a bird dog and moved toward her. She put her hands up, and they hit his hard chest with such force that she took two steps back. Sean leaned down and captured her lips with his, and Jillian nearly forgot her good intentions. It took a couple of minutes to wrest her mouth away, and then she slipped to his side and made it to the counter without touching him again.

“We need to talk, guys, now,” she announced, hating the small tremor in her voice.

Peter reached to hook the towel, and she shimmied away from him, backing right into Sean, who wrapped his arms around her waist and bent to nuzzle her neck right at that same point where it joined her shoulder and made her crazy for his touch. Peter pressed against her front, pushing a thigh between her legs and lifting her on it. She felt Sean’s hard length poking into the small of her back, matching the one Peter sported under his pajama pants, and she couldn’t get a deep breath to protest. The towel began to slip, and she grabbed for it, only to have Sean capture both wrists while Peter pulled it away and dropped it on a stool. The feeling of Peter’s muscled thigh against her now really damp sex, Sean’s mouth on her shoulder, and then Peter pinching and twisting her nipples pushed Jillian near the brink.

“Stop,” she moaned. “Please, stop. I can’t think while you’re touching me.”

“You think too much, babe,” murmured Sean as he licked up her neck and down again. “You taste as good as I thought you would.”

Peter chuckled and continued to rock her on his thigh, her labia actually making little wet sounds against him now. He pulled her breasts upward by the nipples, the little spike of pain pushing her higher. Sean transferred her wrists to one of his big hands and found the nub of her sex unerringly with his finger and thumb. He pinched it, and Jillian went over, her legs softening, held up by the two men pleasuring her. Sean caught her up and sat her on the towel but grabbed her wrists again when she tried to cover herself.

“No, Jilly,” he ordered, “you don’t need anything to cover that great body. We want to be able to look at you and touch you whenever we like. Nobody else is here, so you’ll be fine.”

Jillian set her jaw and glowered at him. “Since when do you tell me what to do, lawyer boy?”

“Since you promised Peter and I a week, babe. And if you continue to resist or breach the contract, there will be consequences, I promise you.”

Jillian looked at him assessingly then pushed off the stool, grabbing up the towel to wrap it around her. “Not only are you bossy, you must need glasses, too. I’m quite aware of my non-runway-model status, thanks.”

Things seemed to happen in a flash after that. Sean shoved his shoulder into her stomach and straightened up with her, and the next thing he was striding down the hall. She flailed at his back with her fists, and he slapped her butt, hard, never saying a word or issuing another warning.

* * * *

Peter smiled to himself. He knew Jilly wouldn’t obey nor comply easily, so this was going to get very interesting. He contemplated the utensils in the container on the counter and selected a large rubber spatula. He filled a small bowl with ice, covering it with a cloth. Then he followed the shrieks and screams. Breakfast would get cold, but all for a good cause. He entered the bedroom and beheld Jillian’s delightful bottom raised high, compliments of several pillows under her belly, her arms secured at the wrist to the headboard of the king-size bed. Sean was in the process of tying her ankles to the footboard, spreading her legs wide, keeping her bucking, struggling form under control with one hand as he slipped a foot into the soft velvet loop. Peter admired the view as he set the bowl of ice down and handed Sean the spatula. Sitting near Jilly’s head, Peter swept her hair up and away from her face, dropping a kiss on her temple. He jerked back from her snapping teeth and burst into laughter.

Sean grinned at him and said, “Jillian hasn’t learned how to obey those of us in charge, buddy. And maybe we should be gagging her, too, to protect us from those pearly whites.”

Jillian’s threats were nearly incoherent with rage and indignation, but the personal epithets were clearly audible. Peter watched Sean shift from amused to darkly dangerous in a second. He cracked her across the ass with the kitchen utensil and swiftly got her attention. Jillian went silent and very tense. Sean ran his tongue across the pale pink welt he had raised, and she shivered, trying to clench her buttocks and close her thighs against him. He slipped his fingers between her labia and pushed the lips open, exposing her vaginal opening and the area around her clit. Then he slid those digits up and pressed against her anus. Jillian shivered again and ordered, in a cold, stern voice, that he stop, that they untie her. The juices soaking her thighs belied her tone.

“You’ll get five more smacks as punishment for disobeying in the kitchen, babe, but more than that, the smacks are to remind you that we will never let you put yourself down,” Sean stated flatly. “And I suspect that Peter is going to explain to you that biting isn’t allowed either.”