“Tell me how it feels,” Michael growled into her mouth. “Tell me what it feels like to have them both inside you.”
“Like heaven,” she whispered. “I so love when all three of you are a part of me. Inside me. Showing me your love and allowing me to show you mine.”
Michael’s hand fisted in her hair just as Seth and Dillon found their rhythm. Dillon held her more gently now, his hands on her hips, holding her in place for their combined thrusts.
Her eyes were half-lidded as she stared into Michael’s eyes. Her hair was drawn tight, the strands wrapped around his fingers as he held his fist firm.
“Please,” she begged softly.
Michael blew out his breath in a ragged spurt. “Like I could damn well refuse you anything.”
He maneuvered up, standing and leaning back toward the headboard. Then, using one hand as leverage against the wall and leaving the other tightly wound in her hair, he pushed his hips forward until his cock pressed against her mouth.
She ran her tongue over the tip, appreciating the moan that spilled from his lips. Then she sucked him inside, wanting that last connection.
They were all three a part of her. Deep inside her.
She relaxed, allowing the tension to ease and the fear that had knotted her insides for so long to slide away.
She let them take the reins. Let them have control. She trusted them. She was in their hands. In their care.
Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply and took Michael as far as she could, savoring the taste and feel of him on her tongue.
Seth slid deeper into her body in an alternating rhythm with Dillon. When Seth pulled back, Dillon sank deep. When Dillon retreated, Seth pushed forward.
Their movements were exquisitely tender. No hurry. No frantic race to completion. It was as if they’d determined that they had all the time in the world and they weren’t rushing a damn thing.
Dillon’s hands left her hips and trailed up her belly, pausing for a moment to caress her abdomen. Then he went higher, palming both of her breasts in the most tender of gestures.
He ran both thumbs lightly over the puckered nipples, all the while making sure he didn’t press too hard.
“Touch yourself, Lily,” he said huskily.
Having long since lost her self-consciousness when it came to lovemaking, she lowered one hand to Dillon’s taut abdomen and then trailed her fingers down to his groin where their bodies met and meshed.
She slid her fingers between them, through damp folds, until she stroked over her clitoris.
Immediately her body tightened all over. Seth and Dillon both let out strangled sounds. Her mouth molded tighter around Michael’s cock and his fingers tangled in her hair once more, holding her in place while he stroked back and forth over her tongue.
“That’s it,” Dillon murmured. “Pleasure yourself. I want to see you come apart right in front of my eyes. I want to feel you tighten all around my dick and then bathe me in your heat.”
Her nostrils flared and her body began to tremble all over in response to the seductive words. Dillon had such a wicked tongue. He had a way with words that never failed to tilt her right over the edge. He could talk a woman to orgasm. She was convinced of it.
Seth’s hands gripped her behind, held her as he began to thrust more forcefully.
She was teetering. So close. So very close.
She rubbed her clit in a circular motion, stroking the taut, sensitive bud with one finger. Harder. Faster.
The world went hazy around her. All she was aware of was pleasure. Beautiful, never-ending pleasure. And the love of the three men who’d changed her life forever.
Inside her. All of them. Deep. Loving.
She let out a soft cry around Michael’s erection and then went liquid in their arms. Seth and Dillon both held her up, supporting her with gentle hands.
Michael slid out of her mouth, though she knew he hadn’t come, and she slumped forward onto Dillon’s chest as Seth shuddered behind her, in the throes of his own orgasm.
Dillon twitched, arched his hips up one last time and then he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms solidly around her, holding her as he poured himself into her body.
For the longest time, she lay there, softly panting, eyes closed as she savored the aftermath. All too soon, Dillon shifted and then she found herself lifted into Michael’s arms. He turned, rolling with her so she was nestled into his side on the bed.
She snuggled into his embrace, tangling her legs with his. She wanted to be close. Didn’t want any space between them.
And then Seth was behind her, molding himself to her back, one leg thrown over hers so she was completely and utterly surrounded by him and Michael.
She smiled against Michael’s neck. This was love. This was her life.
This was home.
CHAPTER
11
CALLIE sat at the vanity in her bedroom brushing her hair, but her gaze never left Max as he shrugged out of his shirt and prepared to go shower.
He wouldn’t take long. He never did. Not when he showered alone. Which he’d been doing with increasing frequency lately.
Usually … She stroked through her hair again and frowned as she watched him disappear into the bathroom. Usually he took her into the shower, washed her hair and every inch of her body. Then and only then did he quickly see to his own shower, and when they were done, he’d dry her body and her hair and then she’d await his next instruction.
Chill bumps danced across her skin at the memory of some of those instructions.
One simply never knew with Max.
His power and his confidence enticed her. His dominance gave her a measure of comfort nothing else could.
In his arms, she was free to be herself. He was her center, her anchor. A safe haven for her free spirit and wanderlust. Because no matter where she went, where she was, if she was with Max, she was home.
She continued to brush her hair even though there wasn’t a single knot and the strands were starting to fuzz out from static electricity. She was waiting. For Max.
Max wasn’t himself, but then she could hardly blame him. His focus was on Lauren. But what Callie didn’t like was the way Max seemed to be pushing Callie away.
She understood his worry and his concern. Knew that he was preoccupied with thoughts of his sister. But Callie was his wife and they were supposed to share everything. She knew without a doubt that if she had a family issue, he’d be by her side, involved up to his nose, and he’d do whatever he had to in order to help or support her.
She looked up when the door to the bathroom opened. Max stepped out still toweling his hair dry and wearing only a towel around his waist.
Her mouth went dry because the man was simply gorgeous. He still took her breath away. Still made her heart do this silly little stutter step every time she looked his way.
She laid the brush down and then turned on her seat to face him. He tossed aside the towel he’d been using to dry his hair and then seemed to realize she was looking at him.
He caught her gaze and then his brow furrowed. “Is something wrong?”
She didn’t answer right away. Nervous butterflies scuttled around her belly before her chin finally came up and she felt calm descend.
“Why are you avoiding me, Max?”
His eyes widened in surprise that wasn’t faked. “Avoid you? Where the hell would you get an idea like that?”
She rose and walked toward him. She allowed her robe to fall away until she stood naked before him. Then she gracefully slid to her knees, lifting her chin so she could once more look him in the eye.
“You’re avoiding this,” she said softly. “Us. The way we are. Who we are. Have you changed your mind, Max? Is this no longer what you want?”
She pulled at one of the bands around her wrist, the implication being that she’d remove it even though she couldn’t without one of the tiny keys they both owned, but his hand was quick to clamp around her wrist, holding the band tightly in place.
“No!” he said hoarsely. “God no, Callie, don’t take it off. Those mean more than our wedding rings. Is this what you want? Is this what you’re trying to tell me?”
She stayed on her knees, his fingers still wrapped tightly around her wrist.
“You haven’t touched me,” she said quietly. “I understand why you wouldn’t demonstrate your dominance of me in front of Lauren or others. We agreed that what we do is private and not for the world to see. But even in the privacy of our bedroom, you’ve stopped … you’ve stopped everything. What am I to think other than that this isn’t what you want?”
He went to his knees in front of her, only the second time ever that he’d put himself in an equally vulnerable position with her. He grasped her face between his hands, his eyes dark and earnest.
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