AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Put your hands on your thighs,” Dominic instructs. “And don’t move them.”
“I want to touch you,” I pout. Their cocks are stiff and erect. I want to curl my fingers around their thick lengths and feel their hardness. I want to discover how long I can hold my breath underwater when I taste them.
“Are you playing the game?” Carter asks, the tone of his voice lazy and relaxed. “If you are, that was an order, not a request.”
Ooh. Well, well, what do you know? I expected orders from Dominic, but from Carter too? My desire kicks up another notch. I shiver, liquid lust running through my veins. My palms move to rest against my thighs. As ordered.
“Good girl,” Dominic says approvingly. “Want a sip of your wine?”
I nod, and he brings the glass to my lips. I tilt my head back and swallow, closing my eyes as the cool liquid runs down my throat. Without the use of my hands, I feel helpless, but the way he’s feeding me the wine is so strangely intimate. I feel very precious. Cherished. I’m not used to feeling this way.
Except in the last two days.
That’s too heavy a thought for the moment. Right now, Dominic’s stroking my skin under the water, and Carter has, with a grin that bodes trouble for me, leaned forward to adjust the Jacuzzi controls.
Oh. Oh.
With my legs parted, and my hands held captive, I can’t flinch away from the pulse of water that’s aimed directly at my sex. The jets throb against my pussy, and my hips roll and pump as I try to position myself just so. I’m not sure if I’m trying to avoid the stream from hitting my clitoris, or if I’m trying to embrace the feeling of intensity it causes.
“Stop.” Dominic’s voice is calm and controlled. “Don’t move.” His fingers stroke my nipples, his neatly trimmed fingernails scratching my skin. “Stay still, or Carter will turn up the water pressure.”
“Is that supposed to be a threat?” I snark.
Dominic chuckles. “Not really.” He pets me with his left hand, stroking my breasts, teasing my nipples, whispering over my inner thighs, hovering over my mound, but he refuses to touch my clit. Jerk. Instead, with his right hand, he fists himself.
So bitterly unfair.
So unexpectedly hot.
I’m already ready to whine and beg them to touch my pussy. But when I see Dominic stroke his cock when my hands are right there? When I’m desperate to do anything to distract me from the pleasurable intensity of the water jets? Damn it. It takes all my willpower to keep my hands where they are.
While Dominic seems intent on testing my ability to balance at the edge of pleasure, Carter isn’t as cruel. He scoops some hot water and trickles it over my skin. His mouth follows the liquid, kissing a path from my shoulders to my chest, then to my breasts.
My nipples engorge even further, if such a thing is possible. Carter releases my thigh from his grasp and moves in front of me, cutting off the jet of water that’s been massaging my core. I breathe a sigh of mingled relief and frustration. Then he pushes my breasts together and bends his head over them, and I moan and forget all about the water, because oh my fucking God.
As he bites and nips those tender buds, sending sharp spikes of intense pleasure through me, Dominic’s fingers grip my chin, and he tilts my head towards him. As Carter plays with my breasts, he kisses me slowly, leisurely, as if kissing is the goal itself, not a prelude to the heavier action. Any other time, I’d admire his restraint and his willingness to engage in foreplay. But desire coils tight in my belly. There are two guys with erections next to me, and I’m impatient.
Yet I obey, keeping my legs parted and my hands on my thighs, because it also feels good to see how much I can take. I’m masochistic enough to want to see how hard I can be wound up before I can’t hold back my need.
Carter takes a deep breath, then lowers his head below the water, diving for my pussy. I squeak in surprise. “How long can you hold your breath?” I feel compelled to ask. “It’s a mood-killer if you drown, you know.”
He spanks my pussy to quieten me. The water muffles the spank to a dull thud, one I want to experience again. “So good,” I breathe. “Do that again.”
“No talking,” Dominic chides gently. “Don’t control this. Let go. Put your head back and let us pleasure you.”
You do pleasure me.
They’ve given me more than any guy I’ve ever dated. Freely and without expectation. This might be a short-term thing, but they haven’t ever made me feel like I’m just a warm body to them. They’ve asked me questions about my work. They’ve listened. They’ve offered to help, and they’ve backed off when I’ve asked them too.
They’ve treated me with respect, and it’s a heady, addictive thing. I’ve told myself repeatedly that nothing can come of this. Tonight, for the first time, anchored between them, their hands running all over me, teasing me to greater and greater heights of arousal, I allow myself to admit I want more.
And then I let the thought go.
Nothing can come of this. This affair has a defined beginning and a defined ending. When Nicky’s show ends, I head back to Manhattan. Carter and Dominic live in Atlantic City. Carter has Noah to be responsible for. The Grand River anchors Dominic. Both men have deep ties to their community. Even if Carter and Dominic were interested in something more, society does not look kindly on unorthodox relationships.
Carter’s mouth closes over my clitoris and my thoughts evaporate. He sucks the tender, engorged nub between his teeth, and I come off the bench. “Oh my God,” I moan. “Please…”
As Carter comes up for air, Dominic has a wicked gleam in his eyes. He tops up our glasses with the last of the wine, then he moves the bottle towards me, rolling the cold glass over my nipples. Again, I almost buckle at the sea of sensation that I’m swimming in. The contrast of the cold against the hot water, the dull throb of the jets of water that continue to pulse towards me now that Carter’s no longer in the way—it’s all too much. Is it possible to die of pleasure? Because I’m at a serious risk of it.
