Forbidden Pleasure (Bound Hearts #8)

Forbidden Pleasure (Bound Hearts #8) Page 43

“Jethro.” She stared up at him, fighting for breath as his hand smoothed her hair back from her face and behind her, Mac worked more of the cool lubrication into her rear.

“We have you, sweetheart,” he groaned.

“Jethro.”

“Yes, baby.”

Behind her, she felt Mac move closer, felt the thick crest of his cock press against the entrance to her rear.

“I need more,” she moaned desperately, tightening on the cock spearing her pussy as she felt Mac opening her behind.

She needed that touch of pain. Needed it with a sudden hunger that raged inside her and sent her senses careening.

“Easy, Kei.” Mac’s voice was hard as she tried to press back, tried to take more than he was giving her.

He was too slow. Too easy.

“Now.” The strangled demand was more of a cry. “Now, Mac.”

She couldn’t wait. The need was tearing her apart, hunger and lust and forbidden pleasure whipping through her like a conflagration racing toward the fiery explosion.

The head of his cock stretched her, burned her. Hard hands held her, controlled her.

“Fuck! She’s tight,” Jethro groaned beneath her as Mac eased in further.

Panting, Keiley forced herself to still beneath them, waiting. Waiting. Seconds later their hold eased. Behind her, Mac whispered her name as she felt Jethro ease back. Just enough. His cock retreated just enough to allow her to move.

Before they could stop her, before their restraining hands could hold her still, she bore back, her hips jerking onto the two invading erections with a force that slammed Jethro fully inside her pussy and forced Mac’s cock more than halfway inside.

“Oh God!” she screamed out at the sensations. Fire and pleasure rained inside her, exploded, and echoed with a force she didn’t think she could survive.

Male voices cursed. Hands gripped her. She used her muscles to tighten on them, to draw Mac deeper, to hold Jethro inside her, and her mind shattered.

“Fuck me!” she cried out, her fingers curling into Jethro’s shoulders as she fought their hold. “Now, damn you. Now.”

She couldn’t have imagined more, better, harder. But they gave it to her. The tightly leashed control they used when taking her together shattered. With a hard jerk of his hips Mac plunged inside her rear, burying full-length, filling her, stretching her, burning her.

Jethro retreated, but as he thrust inside her again, Mac was retreating, repeating, so attuned to her body, to each other’s movements, that within seconds the synchronized thrusts kept her filled, kept her burning higher, hotter, racing through her mind and her senses until they exploded with a force that convulsed her entire body.

Never-ending. The orgasm that claimed her seemed to never stop. Powerful, violent spasms ripped through her body, jerking through her muscles and tightening tender tissue on the impalements tormenting her.

Their cries joined hers, and seconds later their thrusts were harder, deeper, the lava-hot spurts of their semen filling her and sparking a second, harder orgasm inside her as two male voices grated their devotion in each ear.

“God, I love you, Kei. Love you.” Mac bucked inside her rear as the words tore from his lips.

“Fucking love you. Fucking love you.” Jethro’s was rougher, more primal, the newness of giving his emotions voice reflecting in his husky tone.

And between them, Keiley collapsed, sweat-soaked, feeling their hard bodies still rippling with pleasure, still filling her, holding her. Needing her.

“I love you both,” she whispered against Jethro’s chest. “God help me. I love you both.”

24

Jethro held her, his hands cupping her breasts, his finger tweaking her nipples as he watched the folds of her pussy flower open for the slow, measured thrusts of Mac’s cock between her thighs. Her clit was swollen and straining as he held her still, her hands gripping his biceps, her nails digging in as she bucked beneath her husband.

Mac’s body was tight as he fought to hold back, determined to drive her into another climax before he gave in himself. Jethro could see the determination stamped on his friend’s face, see the hot lust and soul-deep devotion in his eyes as he stared down at Keiley.

And he should have felt like an interloper. Even now, he wondered at how easily they were sharing the little vixen. Jealousy wasn’t clouding their heads. Nothing but pure sweet pleasure was tearing through him, just watching her, holding her, his gaze moving to her face, staring into her unfocused eyes as Mac’s thrusts became harder, deeper, as they shook her body and finally triggered the release awaiting her.

She couldn’t scream. She whimpered, arching in his arms as he moved one hand from her breasts and stroked himself to a rapid release as Mac’s low groan signaled his own climax.

They collapsed to the bed, damp, overheated, fighting to relearn how to breathe.

“Touch me and you die,” Keiley groaned as Jethro shifted beside her, his arm pressing against hers before he turned to his side to stare at her.

Her arms lay over her head, her eyes were closed, and her delectable body was sprawled out in careless sated abandon. She was so damned pretty it made his back teeth ache. It made his chest tighten in fear as he remembered the picture she had come out of that meeting with.

Because of his and Mac’s hungers, because of their weakness, she would be facing a community with certain knowledge of what went on in her sex life. And they would punish her for it. Because they could. Because it made for such titillating gossip. And the thought of her being hurt in such a way was enough to make him want to kill.

“You look so angry,” she whispered then, reaching up to touch his cheek, her eyes seeing far more than he would have wanted her to. “Is everything okay?”

“Tired.” He forced a smile to his face. “You’ve worn me out.”

She snorted at that, her gaze dropping to the half-hard erection between his thighs.

“That doesn’t look tired to me.”

“That is a beast of its own,” he assured her. “He never gets tired. I’m another story.”

“Uh-huh. Try that one on someone who will believe it,” she snickered as she stretched languorously.

“It doesn’t do that for just anyone,” he warned her. “Only very special ladies.”

Her eyes rolled in response before drifting closed.

“You’re not going to sleep yet, princess,” he chuckled, moving from the bed before pulling her into his arms. “Mac, change the bed. I’ll head her to the shower.”

“I have to find my legs first,” Mac mumbled. “She wiped me out.”

Jethro was finding his own legs. They were weak from the pleasure she had given them through the night.

“You have ten minutes,” Jethro informed him.

“Doesn’t take me that long to shower.” Keiley yawned. “Five minutes.”

To which Mac opened one eye and grunted at the sight of Jethro’s aroused body. “Try twenty minutes. Hell, I have time for a nap.”

“And I’m hungry,” Keiley suddenly complained. “You two keep forgetting to feed me. This is uncalled for. I’m using up a lot of calories here.”

Mac rubbed his own stomach. “Hell. I’m starved.”

Jethro’s stomach rumbled, causing Keiley to snicker back at him. “See,” she pointed out. “If you’re hungry, just imagine how hungry I am.”

Jethro glanced at the clock. Hell, midnight was a good time for a snack.

“I’ll make the bed. You two hurry with that shower and we’ll scrounge something up in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, that soup I was working on earlier would have been good. Too bad someone wouldn’t let me finish it.”

“Shower.” Jethro led her into the bathroom.

“A bath would be better,” she murmured. “In my big bathtub. We would all fit.”

Her sultry voice had his erection bobbing in agreement.

“Shower.” His stomach was growling in demand. “You can bathe tomorrow.”

“Make me wait and I’ll bathe by myself.” She pouted.

The love that suddenly flooded him at her half-teasing, half-seductive look nearly brought him to his knees. He shouldn’t love her this much, he told himself as he adjusted her water and pulled her in behind him. He shouldn’t love her to the point that his knees weakened and his chest tightened with the ferocity of it.

As he washed her hair, then cleaned her sleek body, he couldn’t help but caress her washrag. To worship her here just as she did in that damned bed. He couldn’t help but to want to give her anything, everything she could ever want.

And now he knew the hell Mac must have gone through before resigning from the Bureau. He remembered watching his friend’s eyes that last day in the club, seeing the regret, the love, and the fears that filled him.

One man could give a woman more pleasure than she ever conceived. But two, two who knew each other as well as he and Mac did, could give a woman such pleasure that she glowed from the inside out with it.

Keiley glowed. Her eyes were more green than hazel, her body sated and relaxed beneath his hands. There wasn’t so much as an inch of her body that hadn’t been kissed, stroked, loved.

He rinsed her gently, then stood staring down at her, his hands framing her face.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” she sighed, still not comfortable, he could tell, with loving two men. “But you two are going to drive me insane with it, and I know it.”

“No one has ever gone crazy from too much lovin’, sweetheart.” He grinned down at her.

“No, they went crazy from trying to control all that testosterone,” she told him, her gaze assuring him that she was clearly laughing at him.

“Well, then, you have it easy. You’ll just let the testosterone control you. No danger that way.”

“Uh-huh. We’ll just see how that one works out for you. Ask Mac. He’ll tell you how easy that one is.”

He leaned forward, giving her a rakish smile. “He already told me. I particularly like the story where you chased him through the house with his own baseball bat.”

Her face flushed. Jethro remembered Mac’s amused chagrin at that one. His jealous demand that she not take a particular local job because the business owner was a known charmer. The argument that lasted three days. The day of the meeting Mac had slipped her keys from her purse and she caught him.

By time she left for her meeting, a less than happy Mac had been nursing his bruised pride. Not because she had hit him, but because he hadn’t been certain she wouldn’t hit him. She had taken the bat with her and Mac had waited at home. Because, as she had put it, if he followed her, it only proved her didn’t trust her. And no marriage could survive without that trust.

“Mac overexaggerates sometimes.” She cleared her throat, obviously holding back her laughter.

“I think he underexaggerates,” he said then. “He said you were as beautiful as a pissed-off fairy. I bet you were a damned sight prettier.”

“Have either of you macho men seen a fairy?” she suddenly burst out. “No comparison. They could be ugly. Haggard. They could have warts on private parts of their bodies. You could be insulting me.”

He caught her around the waist as she pushed at his shoulders, the water pelting around them, her laughter shining in her face.

“No. I see a fairy every time I see you. Delicate and shining. So innocent you make grown men weep to make you wicked and so sultry you make them howl to possess you. You’re pure, Keiley. Never let anyone tell you different.”

She paused then, staring back at him with narrowed eyes. “What happened with that picture isn’t your and Mac’s fault.”

“We didn’t protect you.”

“God save me,” she snapped. “Get out of my shower, Jethro. Go help Mac.”