Vivian Arend - Rising, Freestyle

The situation was bewildering, but the actual increase in her pulse had everything to do with arousal instead of fear and she could have cried because it felt so wonderful.

She crushed her lips against Nathan’s, not allowing him to remain delicate. His response was immediate—passionate and demanding. He held her head in place and took her mouth by storm. Thrusting with his tongue, biting her lips, rocking the pleasure in her to a higher level in a split second. It was unlike any childish fantasy she’d clung to and, oh God, it was good.

The heat behind her confirmed Derrick was still there. That when she’d had enough of Nathan’s caresses, her lover was going to make her body sing like he had proven over and over he could—

The line between panic and pleasure blurred further. It might have been fear that started her heart racing in the first place, but it was the sensation of Nathan’s hand moving on her thigh that pushed a needy cry from her throat.

Crux: The hardest move on a route.

The breathless sound echoed in his ears, and Derrick felt the same damn shiver of lust that occurred when he was the one making Melanie respond. He was a fucked-up bastard—Nathan and Mel’s lips were locked together, the man’s hands were moving on her body and not one single iota of jealousy registered. If anything, Derrick had gotten harder in the last minute than he’d been before.

He stroked her skin under his fingers, smooth on one side, pocked and marred on the other—there was nothing about her body she had to be ashamed or worried about. If having Nathan touch her could convince Mel of that forever, this was the cure to use.

She gasped again and Derrick tightened his grip on her hips. Centering her, being there for her. Listening for any indicators she wanted to retreat, but even while she leaned away from Nathan’s kiss, Melanie reached up to catch hold of his head.

“That was way better than when I was sixteen.”

Nathan grimaced. “You weren’t supposed to know it was me who gave you that kiss.”

She wriggled in Derrick’s lap as she laughed. “Oh my God, are you serious? Even blindfolded I knew it was you.”

Blindfolded?

Then there was no chance to ask any questions as the train moved forward in a rush.

“Take off your top.” Nathan flicked a glance over Mel’s shoulder at him then returned his full attention to her. Under Derrick’s hands, she’d gone tight. Rigid as a rock wall, and Derrick wondered if Nathan had pushed too hard.

She leaned against his chest and took a deep breath. Nathan waited, silent yet demanding. Derrick was on the verge of speaking—of suggesting this wasn’t needed. That he’d made a mistake, when Melanie surprised him.

“Close your eyes,” she ordered back, and Nathan complied, snapping them shut. His hands remained resting on her thighs, hunger on his face.

Mel twisted her head. “Derrick, you still with me?”

“All the way, whatever you want.” Whatever it took to make her happy. Derrick was more convinced every minute he was in for the long haul.

She nodded, then maneuvered the sports bra from her body, dropping it to the grass beside them. Derrick peeked over her shoulder to admire the tight points of her nipples poking from the rounds of her breasts.

“Hmm, can I touch as well?” he asked, and Melanie reached back and caught his head, tugging until their lips met. Passion rocked through him, a thunderous noise in his ears as they kissed—so right and familiar now, yet new and unique each time. Derrick wrapped his hands around her torso to cup her beautiful breasts. He played with her nipples between forefingers and thumbs, lightly teasing the tips, rolling and tugging and pinching until she moaned.

Moisture touched his fingers, and Derrick swallowed the exclamation she made before pulling back to observe Nathan come in for a second slow swipe over the exposed peak of one breast. Nathan had kept his hands locked on Melanie’s thighs, only his mouth touching, tongue darting out to flick the tip again and again.

Derrick adjusted his hold to bare more of her breast, and Nathan took immediate advantage, wrapping his lips around the entire nipple and sucking.

Melanie writhed on Derrick’s lap, her ass rubbing his erection as she arched and pressed closer to Nathan’s eager mouth. “So good. Yes, like that…”

As Nathan moved his hands up to cradle and caress, Derrick slipped his out of the way, simply enjoying the heat of her in his lap, the brush of her skin against his torso as she continued to lean in his direction. He watched. Assessing, judging, ready to act if her enthusiastic response changed, but there was no need. She caught Nathan by the hand and directed his touch, their fingers linked as she allowed her old friend to brush the damaged skin on her torso, the side of her breast.

More kisses followed, hot and needy, as Nathan took Melanie’s lips again. When he leaned away Melanie sucked in air as Nathan’s gaze flashed over her body.

“Every inch of you makes me want you. No scars can change how attractive you are. Nothing can.”

A hesitant smile crossed her face a split second before he recaptured her lips. Then he kissed his way down her throat and across her collarbone to once more worship her breasts.

A purr of contentment escaped her. Derrick rejoiced. That was what he wanted to hear, to witness. Every inch of her craving sexual release, no thought of her scars or the trauma she’d gone through.

And sexual release she would get. Derrick snuck his hand over Melanie’s hip and under the elastic of both her climbing pants and panties. Over the soft curls covering her sex, wetting his fingers in her cream and drawing it higher to rub her clit.

Together he and Nathan took her to the edge of pleasure. They whispered words of admiration, stroked her skin, kissed her bare torso. Nathan bit one nipple then suckled hard, and Derrick took that moment to thrust two fingers into her core.

“Oh God.” She squirmed, not in retreat, but to allow them both to reach her better. “More. Please, more.”

More? They gave it to her until she gasped for air. Derrick ground the heel of his palm against her clit as Nathan pinched her nipples, kissing her hungrily.

The flush of arousal over her chest heightened in colour, the sounds she made shifting from words to guttural mutterings then moans. Tiny cries and gasps until she went silent, the calm before the storm.

Melanie shook as she came, her sheath pulsing tight around his fingers, a long low keen of satisfaction rising on the air. Nathan dropped his head against her chest, his dark hair covering her skin, his breath escaping in rapid gasps. Derrick clung to his own sanity for a moment. He needed her like crazy.

More than that, he needed to finish this as a couple, not a trio. He wasn’t about to toss Nathan in the dirt, not after he’d given so willingly to Melanie, but the next step was going to be him and her, alone. Urgent desires and violent passion swirled inside, and Derrick caged them both as he waited for the right moment. This was for her.

She relaxed, boneless in his lap, one arm rising to cling to his neck, the other reaching out so she could brush her knuckles over Nathan’s cheek.

“Wow.”

Nathan grinned. “You liked that?”

She laughed, sitting up to deliver a quick kiss over Nathan’s lips. “I liked it a lot. But I need—”

She glanced over her shoulder and Nathan hummed. “You need time with Derrick. No worries.” He rocked away, slowing his breathing.

Melanie twisted to curl up in Derrick’s lap, as if a bird seeking shelter. She tucked her face into his neck, and he hoped she wasn’t retreating. Then he realized this time she hadn’t hid the scarred side of her torso from Nathan’s gaze.

The two men locked eyes. It wasn’t a complete cure, but it was a step in the right direction. Derrick dipped his chin and Nathan nodded acknowledgment.

Melanie burrowed her hands under Derrick’s shirt and scratched his back, and the rush of need that assaulted him nearly tossed him to the ground. It tore open his barely contained ardour. Foreplay was over and there was only one place this was going. He lifted Melanie into the air as he stood, leaving Nathan behind with their gear.

Melanie sighed, resting her head against Derrick’s chest, the heavy thumping of his heart rhythmic in her ear. Every step he took rocked her body against him. “That was simply—”

“Don’t talk.” The words were ground out so low and guttural she peeled herself away to see what was wrong. He shook his head, his nostrils flaring as he carried her back to the wilderness campsite they’d set up. She forced her lips together to keep from blurting out her questions.

He dropped her on the solid wood of the picnic table, and she bounced as her butt landed on the flannel cloth she’d spread earlier.

“Take off your pants,” he ordered.

Derrick ripped off his shirt, the rigid planes in his abdomen flexing as he reached for the snap on his pants.

It wasn’t anger driving him. Relief shot through her, and she remembered his promise from earlier. As stupid as it was, shyness hit and she glanced toward the trees where Nathan remained. “But—”

“Now.”

She’d never seen this side of Derrick before. Need and desire pulsed from him like a tangible thing. His hands were on her pants before she could protest again, stripping the fabric away. He tugged her to the edge of the table then buried his face between her legs.

Crazy emotions jumbled together with her instant physical response to his touch. His tongue drove her mad as he took possession of her hips and forced her into a position he liked better.