A Harem of One [The Moreland Brothers 3] (Siren Publishing Allure) (16 page)

They would go to sleep, but it never lasted for long before one or both of them was groping the other. He woke at one point thumbing her breasts and another fingering her sex. She awakened him once with her mouth on his cock, putting the finest Dyson vacuum to shame. Even thinking about her lips framing his cock was enough to turn the fat slab of flesh between his legs into stone. Letting the thought go was hard, but if he didn’t want to walk around with blue balls until this afternoon, it was time to get himself together. They had a date at Makenzie’s tonight. Jamie didn’t know it, but he was going to be an integral part of her portrait tonight.

You Make Me Feel…So Gone

Jamison met Marq at his house, and they made fantastic timing to Makenzie and Charyn’s home. When they arrived, barely at the agreed-upon time, the couple appeared to be busy as Charyn opened the door with a sour look on his face.

“Damn, you would have to pick now of all times to be punctual.” The middle Moreland brother was scantily clad, only bothering to put on a pair of thin silk lounging pants. The crumpled black fabric carried a suspiciously damp stain at the crotch, driving home the point made by the tented front seam.

“Love you, too, big brother.” Marq’s smirk spoke to the fact that he liked interrupting the couple. The suspiciously innocent face he made belied the sarcasm in the words, not to mention what he said next confirmed his enjoyment of Charyn’s discomfort. “You two fuck too much anyway.”

“I’ll show you what my fist feels like if you don’t—”

Jamison thought it was best to stop the train on the tracks before it derailed horribly. “Umm, Charyn, where does Mak want me to go?”

“Her studio is through here.” She followed him to the back of the house to a sunroom off the mudroom next to the kitchen.

The room was spacious and built to catch all the light available during the day. But tonight the space was well lit with track lights and built-in wall sconces.

“Do you want anything to drink or eat, Jamie?”

“No thanks.” Her stomach was already in knots. How in the world was she getting ready to do this? But it was too late. There was no way Makenzie was going to let her weasel out now. Damn it.

“What about me, little brother?”

“You’re not a guest.” Charyn chuckled and pointed at the minifridge in the corner. Marques walked over to the wall cabinet and pulled down a pair of glasses. “But feel free to make yourself at home. Makenzie will be down in a bit.” He laughed again before he walked away, closing the small studio off to the rest of the house with the simple act of shutting the door upon his exit.

Jamison felt slightly uncomfortable, as if her skin was too tight. The room carried a subtle note of simple luxury. Nothing seemed to be too good for Makenzie if her husband had his way. The room was a soothing shade of blue, almost periwinkle. Combine the rattan furniture with plump microfiber cushions and the room made the beach exposed to her view idyllic. The halls were faintly scented with sex. The married couple was always hungry for lovemaking. If they weren’t making the beast with two backs at any moment, they were trying to sneak away to do it somewhere. Apparently the drive for spontaneous sex ran in the family. It seemed the three brothers all had a bit of freak in them.

Jamie took a seat on the long sofa positioned along the wall and waited. Marq sat in front of her in a luxurious woven wingback chair made to seat a man of his height comfortably. He leaned in and held out a glass of an unknown drink for her. The beverage held a scant handful of ice, and the frozen crystals already melted a series of ripples over the surface of the pale amber liquid. She took a sip and licked her lips. The drink was really good. Very mellow and intoxicating. It took a bit to get her drunk, and she’d never seen the point of wasting her money or time on alcohol. Marq just watched her with a look she couldn’t describe. There was a lusty note she quickly deciphered, but there was something else there that she couldn’t pinpoint held in his eyes. It disconcerted her, enough to the point she couldn’t hold the weight of his eyes on her flesh any longer, and she looked away. But even the drink couldn’t deflect his eyes roving her. She could feel him. When Makenzie finally came downstairs fifteen minutes later, Jamison was near ready to give in to the searing demands of Marq’s gaze. He never said a word, but then again, he didn’t need to.

“Jamie, why haven’t you stripped yet and put on your robe?”

“Huh?”

“Marq should have told you already. I gave him the details when we spoke on the phone.”

“Uh, no. Not that detail at least.”

“Well? Now you know. So go into the bathroom and change please. By the way, you can have your panties on beneath the robe.”

“Gee thanks.” She made sure her tone held a note of sarcasm. Makenzie decided to ignore her, as there was no retort to her unusually brusque tone.

Jamison found herself in a small sea-foam-green bathroom just off the kitchen. When she stripped her basic T-shirt and jeans off, she found herself incredibly nervous. There was no way she could do this, could she? But in the few moments she took for self-reflection, no answer came to her, even as she belted the robe over the band of tattoo that put her in this mess in the first place. There was time for a quick mountain pose and a handful of deep breaths before a knock at the door broke her already fragile concentration.

“Are you okay with this, Jamison?” It was Marq’s perfectly crisp baritone speaking to the through the door. His voice gave her the confidence to finish what she started, and she opened the door to the scrutiny of his gaze. She must have passed muster as he merely stepped to the side and allowed her to pass. He placed one hand at her back, and she let him escort her back to the artist’s den.

Makenzie looked at the two of them together and seemed to make a quick decision.

“Marq, I know I said that I just wanted you for inspiration, but…can you pose with her?” Jamison felt poleaxed. She was already going to be nude, and now this?

“I’m okay with that.” His face said he was at any rate. He looked, for lack of a better word, intrigued.

“Just shuck down to your undies, and I will take the two of you through a series of poses and see what is most natural for the look I want.”

Marq had no sense of modesty, as he began disrobing on the spot. He was just as bad he was in his home and discarded the clothes where he stood with no care about the expensive fabric he treated with such disdain. By the time he was finished, Jamie moved to pick the clothes up from the floor. She hated a mess. But Makenzie halted her and began to treat her models as Barbie dolls. If it wasn’t, “lay here,” then Mak was telling them to act natural.
What the hell does that mean anyway?
It was not like she could pretend that Makenzie was nowhere around. Finally disgruntled after the tenth position change, Jamison was through with the position Makenzie was currently directing her into. For now she was poised over Marq’s prone form on the couch and propped onto her forearms. It was a normal enough pose except for the fact that they were not alone. It seemed too sensual by far, but with her scattered curls and robe, there wasn’t much to see. But she could feel everything.

She could sense the thin leash Marq was holding himself to. His entire body was rock hard beneath her, and the sculpted form was the lumpiest mattress she’d ever used. He was alluring even as she tried to push sensuality of the scene away from her mind, or at least scurry the sensations to the back of her thoughts. It wasn’t working. She wanted him. As in right now, and if he didn’t have what appeared to be an excess of self-control left, he’d be inside her now. His cock was in a perfect position for entry due to the differences in their height. Every few moments he would rock his hips, barely nudging her pussy open through the spandex of her tanga panties. Then the next motion would have him retreating, and she knew her underwear was near ruined. The spandex felt nearly like a second skin and, instead of diluting the sensations, heightened each instead. His rocking beneath her was more rhythmic now, better timed, and perfectly devastating. She could hear the rough scrape of pencil on paper, the scratch of sound a beat Marq followed to a tee.

It was too much to handle. She had to come, or rather she was going to, it seemed, whether or not she was ready for it. Now instead of pressure against the opening of her soaked snatch, there was a stealthy, sex sticky invasion forged by the head of his fat cock. The intrusion was followed by retreat, and then she felt his fingers grasp the ribbons woven at the side seam, tugging her underwear taut. The slickened crotch of the panties gave and slipped sideways, trapped in the supple joint of her inner thigh. This time when he returned his cock to nudge her opening they were skin to skin. His eyes asked questions she couldn’t answer. Not now, or with a clear head. She closed her eyes and nodded against the rasp of his jaw.

It seemed as if she was struck dumb, and at this point there was nothing to say anyway.

The moment she started actively seeking more of Marq than the teasing press of cockhead, everything stopped. The first thing she noticed was Marq’s unnatural stillness. Then she heard silence, no scratching niggling her in the background.

“Ahem, let’s take a half hour.” Jamison bolted upright. She had almost fucked Marq in her friend’s presence. She felt waves of embarrassed heat wash over her, and with her bright coloring, the flushed skin was definitely going to be noticed. She dropped her head, and Marq propped up on his forearms, looking at Makenzie. The artist was trying in vain to be worldly enough to ignore the white elephant in the room. But the heat coming from her and Marq was palpable in the closed off space. No sooner than Makenzie stood than the door opened.

“Damn it, Makenzie, nowhere in the discussion about tonight did we agree Marq was getting naked.” Charyn’s voice shattered the calm, but his wife smiled and seemed to enjoy the display of temper.

“Hush, boo, he has on his boxers.”

“That’s still too close to nude for my liking.”

Jamison could see the spark between the married pair burn back to life with a single glance. Maybe it had never gone out. But she did know the couple was probably going to make love. Makenzie took her husband’s hand and closed the door behind her. Moments later a far-off cry confirmed her suspicions. But her attention was brought back to the matter at hand when Marq probed her slick sex with several delicious inches of cock stretching the ring of nerves on entry. God he was so good at that, and the feel of him unadulterated was sublime. There was so much more to enjoy, as if the freshly bared inches were electrified. She knew her lips were gaped open awkwardly, but there wasn’t anything she could do about that now. If she swallowed a fly, did that mean she was no longer vegetarian? By the time he’d speared her with half of his cock, she didn’t give a damn about catching flies or anything else. In fact, she decided that any insects would be considered protein and left it at that.

Marq made short work of the scanty robe shielding her skin from him, untangling the waist tie and slipping the garment from her shoulders where he let the fabric fall into a pool around their hips. It didn’t take much to get her going. The next moments were filled with hot thrusts and groans of need. God she was on fire. Sex had never felt so amazing. But even as the thought crossed her mind, she realized that she had never had sex unprotected either. But even knowing that, the chemistry between her and Marq was too much to deny. It was so strong, and she refused to deny herself every sparkling taste of him available. He was such a guilty pleasure. Every sinful taste of him she got only made her craving for more worse. He was drug she couldn’t get satisfaction from, no matter how much she had. It was never enough to quench her thirst for more. Her ruminations were nipped in the bud quickly when Marq gave a savage punch of hips, and all thoughts left her.

“Don’t think about it.” His eyes were wild and dangerous, pitch dark as he dug into her hips.

“Think about what?” What was he talking about?

“That’s right.” His hips were popping hers in the air with the unbridled force he used. Jamison knew if he were on top of her right now, she’d be lucky to use either leg again. The harder his hips butted hers, the more of him she wanted. It didn’t make sense at all. How in the world could she enjoy being battered like this? But then again, how could she not? Soon enough Marq must have tired of their position, and he scooted forward before sitting up. But even the seated position they were in didn’t appease him as he slid them both into the floor. From there he rolled them over and proceeded to dig in. Each stroke was liquid, fluid motion designed to melt her inhibitions and increase her desire. She was damn near gone, and nothing mattered more in these seconds than coming. She was going to combust. She could sense every muscle tensing and quivering with lust and need. He was just as close as she was if not more. She could see each vein mapping his body from the neck down as if the vessels were too engorged to do more than allow the life giving fluid to pool instead of flow. It was too much.

“Ahhh…please.” She was almost there. Nothing could hold it back now.

* * * *

“That’s right, Jamie, baby. I’m going to please you.” Marq slowed the brutal servings of cock he fed Jamison’s succulent snatch to resume the measured silken strokes from before. She groaned and screamed for him with ease. The way she responded to his hands and cock was beyond anything he’d ever had before. With him, she had no inhibitions or even simple hesitation was beyond her when they were together like this. She was impeccable. Every single inch of her begged him to throw caution to the wind and pound her into the ground. But he had never savored a woman this way, and only now was he grateful that he always wore condoms before today. That simple fact gave their sex-slicked glide more meaning than any experience before. He had never trusted a woman like this before. But as each clash of hips and lips deepened, there was no more time for reflection or resistance left in him to hold back.