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“Unh,” Trey grunted for the seventh, hips twisting desperately against her.
Rebecca’s nipples turned to stone for the eighth.
“God,” Trey gasped as her sex melted around him.
“You don’t go until I say,” Zane snarled. “You don’t fuck her until I say the word.”
“Yes . . . sir,” Trey agreed.
He gave Trey nine, and Trey’s head snapped back in reaction. She knew most of that reaction was pleasure. His cock had swollen even more inside her. Trey forced his gaze to hers again. His eyes were blazing, tiny tremors making his skin twitch. They were so close she could have counted his eyelashes as easily as his heartbeats. What he saw in her eyes, she didn’t know. She felt as intimately connected to him as a person could be. How much he wanted what was happening seemed profound.
Zane brought the quirt down for the tenth time.
“Not yet,” he barked when Trey began to lift her up his cock to stroke.
“I want her,” Trey said.
“You’ll wait,” Zane answered, his voice unrecognizable. “You’ll fucking wait for me.”
Rebecca and Trey’s eyes had a second to widen. Then Zane was climbing onto the narrow bed behind Trey. A catch popped and his zipper whined downward. His hot hands covered Rebecca’s where they still clenched the chains.
“Let go,” he ordered her like Doom itself.
Rebecca couldn’t disobey him. She was mastered. She let go reflexively.
He pushed Trey forward and she tumbled onto her back with the shackled man on top of her. The four lengths of chain were slack enough to allow this, though the metal clashed crazily. Trey was still inside her, but not moving. Maybe he wouldn’t until Zane told him to. Maybe he was mastered too. Zane stretched over them both to dig in the supply drawer.
“Jesus,” Trey breathed as Zane’s hand emerged with a container of KY.
Zane cursed as he fumbled with the top. They heard a squirt and a slap as he rubbed the slippery stuff on his cock. Lubed all the way up and down, he kicked Trey’s knees wider. Then he moved into position behind him. Zane’s face was a picture she wouldn’t soon forget: flushed, tense, as if he had to do this or die.
Rebecca’s sheath tightened on Trey without her willing it.
“Fuck,” Trey gasped, pelvis twisting at how good the contraction felt. “Please don’t do that. I’m about to—”
And then Zane shoved into him.
Trey’s head went back the same as it had for the ninth lash, his mouth stretched open with shocked bliss. Zane pulled back and heaved again. Pushed farther by the thrust, Trey’s cock seemed to knock her womb.
“Now,” Zane said, guttural and urgent. “Now you can fuck Rebecca.”
Trey cried out, using his muscle power to shove back toward Zane. “Not so hard,” he panted. “Between the two of us, we’ll hurt her.”
Zane growled in frustration but not protest.
The last thing she expected happened.
“Follow my lead,” Trey said, apparently still in charge of himself. “I can feel how she’s responding.”
The men took a couple thrusts to coordinate but then they went like a well-oiled machine—or as well oiled as cocks so close to exploding would let them be.
She was glad they were being careful. Their combined strength could have bruised her. As it was, their combined energy—their huffs and groans and sweaty bunched muscles—drove her excitement to heights she hadn’t known it could reach. She wasn’t able to hold back her responses. Moaning with pleasure, she gripped Trey’s side and Zane’s arm and prayed the little iron bed would survive the beating it was taking.
Trey made a noise as Zane thumped something good inside him.
“Fuck,” Trey said, shoulders hunched, head dropping to her shoulder. “Unh. Yes. Keep fucking me right there.”
Zane clamped his fingers around Trey’s hip to continue pummeling him at the same angle. His eyes were screwed shut, and a vein stood out at his temple. Trey found a sweet spot in her and blotted out the image.
Her spine arched off the bed, despite the men’s weight on her. Trey grunted at the strength of her contractions on his cock. She couldn’t stop them. She needed to work against his thickness like she needed to gasp for breath. Just when she thought the pleasure couldn’t get more intense, someone’s thumb compressed her clit and rubbed.
She keened, fingernails scoring skin.
The men sped up at her cry, maybe too excited not to, maybe greedy to join her. The effect of their acceleration was inevitable. Zane hissed, big body locking as he lost it and shot his into Trey. Trey’s chest arched back from her. His expression was ecstatic. He was almost there, straining to go over even as he tried to hang on. With the last of her brainpower, she remembered a trick Zane had shared with her, one he said Trey especially got off on. She slid her hands up his heaving ribs . . .
And yanked off both nipple clamps.
Trey cried out at the sudden pain, cock jamming deep into her to spill.
“Christ,” he gasped. His prick throbbed hard, shooting everything he had with abandon.
Neither man collapsed, but they probably wanted to. Thanks to the domed room’s acoustics, it sounded like a dozen people were panting inside it.
“Whew,” Rebecca said once she had sufficient breath. “I guess that screw we had left over wasn’t important.”
“What screw?” Trey asked hoarsely. A drop of sweat plopped from him onto her belly.
“From putting the bed together. Zane and I had one left over when we were done.”
Trey chuckled, then sucked a breath as Zane pulled out of him without warning.
“Sorry,” he said, staggering off the bed with one hand on the foot rail to support him.
In less of a hurry, Trey withdrew from her with a groan. He sat up in the clear spot between her legs. She didn’t know where the men found the strength to move. To give himself more room, Trey pulled her right calf across his lap. He stroked it and her foot as he watched Zane zip up.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Of course I am,” Zane said. “That was incredible.”
He wasn’t telling the whole truth. Though he was smiling, the creases around his eyes seemed strained. Rebecca guessed he hadn’t meant to take Trey while Trey took her. He’d been swept up in the overwhelming heat of the moment—and now that heat was over.
She had no doubt Trey saw this as clearly as she did.
Discovering she could sit up after all, she laid her cheek on Trey’s shoulder. “Thank you,” she said to both of them.
“Thank you,” Trey corrected. “That was a great surprise.”
Rebecca rubbed his chest, suspecting he could use the comfort. For a while there, he’d had everything he wanted.
~
You’re not going to run, Zane ordered himself. You’re not going to be surly. You don’t want to hurt Trey that way.
He rescued his shirt from the playroom floor but didn’t put it on. God, he’d come hard. His cock was limp from it—and from going at Trey like a jackhammer. He’d loved knowing Trey was inside Rebecca, loved that each thrust into Trey’s ass pushed his friend’s cock harder into her. Rebecca couldn’t have missed what fucking Trey did to him, how excited he got, how he couldn’t have stopped what he was doing for anything. She’d gotten off on it. He shouldn’t be embarrassed.
Zane needed to purge his bastard father’s pronouncements on “real men” from his brain. So what if he wanted to lay his lips on Trey’s that second? So what if he loved touching him as much as he loved touching Rebecca?
Zane was a real man. If he’d been completely gay, that would have been the case. His father was an asshole. After all these years, Zane shouldn’t still be fighting this battle.
Dressed now, Rebecca came to him and stroked his arm. He looked at her, and she kissed his shoulder. “Don’t regret what you did,” she murmured.
He stroked her hair. His hand was big against her delicate cheekbone, different than when he cupped Trey’s face. He started to say he had no regrets but decided the moment deserved more honesty.
“I’m trying not to,” he said.
Rebecca smiled and stretched up to kiss him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Last Chance
THE rest of the week flew by faster than Rebecca thought possible. Each day felt more relaxed than the last, until she actually began to worry she’d get back into work mode. They made love, they played, they had lazy conversations over Mrs. Penworth’s straightforward but tasty food. On Saturday, they took the yacht out, where the men finally relented and let her cook for them.
Afterwards, the night was cool enough that they snuggled in one shared blanket out on the Bad Girl’s deck. The captain had anchored in the bay, beyond the reach of the city lights. Thousands of stars danced on the wavering mirror of calm water. The universe was big, and the three of them were small. That they’d come together was a miracle.
