Abduction (57 page)

Forever. He could have gone on with her like that forever, except for physics.

And Conrad.

Vaughn slid his hands under her, wrapped her up in his arms, slid his knees forward, and rose to sitting, lifting her onto his lap. He slid his hands down, cradled her ass in his hands, rocked his hips, started slowly fucking her again. When she put her hands on him, gripping his shoulder, curving a hand behind his neck, her touch made him strangely happy. She pressed her chest and belly to his, pulled herself close, and their cheeks were touching. He could hear her breathing.

Then she gasped. Pulled back. Went stiff. Pale. Eyes bright and wide.

"It's all right, Devan darling. We're going to do this very gently. Nice and slow."

Conrad was right behind her, his mouth by her ear, his chest touching her back.

Probably his stiff cock was nestled against her ass. Vaughn tried to answer her look of startled fear with a reassuring smile, but his heart was hammering. She flinched, jumped a little as Conrad rested his hands on her shoulders, then went still, unbearably still, not even breathing, as Conrad kissed her ear, just pressing his lips to her pale pink lobe. Then his lips parted and the tip of his shiny pink tongue brushed against the edge of her lobe before his lips closed on it, and Vaughn imagined him gently biting down.

When his mouth descended on her neck she sucked in her breath and looked at Vaughn with startled eyes. Again he tried to calm her with a tender look. Even though Vaughn stayed still inside her, as Conrad's lips and tongue and teeth worked on her neck Devan began to breathe faster, to soften, even to faintly writhe, and Vaughn went hot and tender at once at the sight and the feel of her. But her eyes were still locked on his. She looked afraid.

One of Conrad's hands slipped from her shoulder, and a moment later she whimpered softly.

"Devan. Darling Devan. You haven't forgotten how well you liked my finger just yesterday, have you?" Conrad whispered. "Are you afraid, now, that it's going to hurt?"

"No."

She looked like she was about to cry. Her tear-bright eyes made Vaughn's chest tight. He smiled softly, combed his fingers into her soft, warm hair, and pressed one lingering little kiss on each cheek. She seemed a little softer after that and he kissed her lips, soft, soft, pressing them gently between his, loving their fullness, their sweet shape, how they went firm as she began to kiss him back. He opened his eyes, and she looked 518

warm and seeking, still startled, unsure, but soft. Open. He brought his mouth to hers again, and when he brushed his tongue across the underside of her upper lip her mouth opened a little, and her tongue touched his. He felt her, really trembling under his hands, her chest vibrating like the head of a drum, her warm breath coming in shallow little puffs.

Bloody hell, Devan was really something. Vaughn too, for that matter. But it was her, impaled on that big cock of his, trembling between them, panting and sighing as she kissed one man while the other ravaged her delicate neck, caressing her ass with both hands now, sliding fingers and palms lightly over her smooth, firm flesh, giving her round cheeks a gentle squeeze now and then, teasing his cock, letting it rest innocently along her tempting crevasse, that had him almost violent with need.

But he'd be careful. Gentle. With her body, of course, but with her, with Devan, as well. Sure to keep her soft and warm with their love as they took her together.

She made a little noise that went straight to Conrad's cock as he touched her with a carefully lubed fingertip, and when he began to rub her softly. Glancing up from where he was mouthing her Conrad saw that Vaughn had stopped kissing her to watch her face, enthralled. Conrad coaxed his finger inside, one little inch or so, and she made another cock-tormenting sound. Vaughn kissed her cheek and asked in a voice that sounded like he had no air in his lungs, "Is he touching you?" and she gasped back,

"Yes," and then Vaughn asked, "Do you like how it feels?" and she breathed, "Yes," and Vaughn smiled at her with real joy—Vaughn the earnest might be able to feign calm, but not joy—and said in a voice with some breath in it, "Good, Dev. Good." Then the man 519

he'd made her lover pulled her to him and kissed her. Conrad had an idea that Vaughn was as vicious with need as he himself was, and no wonder, buried to the hilt in her, but her almost stone-still on his stiff cock, only wiggling subtly, involuntarily as he delicately fingered her virgin ass, finally sinking that one digit all the way in and slowly sliding it nearly out of her, then in again against the grasp of her body.

After a little while, when he slipped his finger from her tight ring of muscle squeezing and holding his finger, and came back to her with two lube-slicked digits, sweet Devan whimpered and wiggled and writhed so deliciously as Conrad coaxed his fingers past that stubborn little pucker that Vaughn's breathing changed and his body flexed. He couldn't see her face, but Conrad saw her ears redden with what he guessed was a pretty blush for her embarrassment at writhing on Vaughn's cock like that as Conrad fingered her ass. She was panting; he could feel it, hear it.

"Be soft, Devan Darling," Conrad purred, then kissed the top of her shoulder blade. "Am I hurting you?"

"No." Her voice had a strain to it.

"Good girl."

Conrad brushed his lips against the back of her neck and drove his fingers deeper inside, listening to Devan suck in her breath, feeling her body twitch between them. Vaughn's cock must be getting a nice little massage. He kept on gazing at her like he was trying to melt into her mind, read her thoughts, feel her sensations, only now and then breaking that little communion to kiss her, sometimes with little affection touches of his lips to her forehead, her cheeks, her jaw, her ears, sometimes sealing his mouth to hers and driving his tongue between her lips.

Now that Conrad was pressing his body to hers, Devan seemed to panic. Her breathing sped, and she twisted round, looking at him like she was about to plea for a deferral.

"Shhh, Devan. Vaughn's going to hold you now."

Conrad was still unsure of Vaughn, of just how together they were in this, but Vaughn's body seemed to do his mind's bidding, one arm circling Devan's waist, cinching her tight to his body, his other hand curving at the back of her head, coaxing her, tender and firm, to lay her cheek to his chest. An embrace, a warm restraint to comfort, to make still, to make helpless.

Vaughn held tight as she whimpered and panted and quivered, as Conrad slipped his fingers from her, pressed the tip of his lubed cock to her ass, and slowly forced his way in, working the head past the resistant clench of defiant muscle and finally sliding the length of his shaft up inside her. She was still taut, unbreathing, anticipation. Conrad pressed himself to her back, feeling Vaughn's arm against his belly.

He kissed her hair, curved his hands at her hips, and moved inside her.

"Don't-don't-don't," she gasped and Conrad caught that certain note and pulsed into her and watched her strain fall apart and listened to the shattered breath crash from her parted lips as she blushed and shuddered. Fucking delicious girl! Coming and blushing, so aroused by what shamed her she couldn't take three strokes before her climax went rippling through her, making her spasm and throb around both their cocks.

Le petit mort. One little death from pleasure—more the way they'd played to her imagination than the way he'd fingered her bottom and then slipped inside—and now a thousand deaths from the embarrassment of orgasming five seconds into something so 521

sluttish as being DP'd by the only two men who'd ever really touched her. A tear slipped from her eye and slid down her cheek, and a soft groan mimicked a sob.

Vaughn was overwhelmed. Joy. Arousal. Relief. He wasn't sure. He hadn't known, until he heard her, felt her body tense and quiver, her cunt squeezing his cock in rapid then diminishing pulses, how unsure he'd been. But she'd surrendered. Almost the moment Conrad had entered her. God. Dev.

He was all want-mingled joy as he heard Conrad sigh in her ear the words he might have said, then he realized how tight he'd been holding her, practically crushing Devan against his body, and as he loosened his embrace he watched Conrad kissing her ear, her neck, her shoulder, then circle his own arms around her, belting her arms down, drawing her back from Vaughn's body.

A chill. A shrinking. A heaviness. A tightness. Her face. Sad. And turned away.

Not looking. Refusing to look.

Later he'd think back and wonder over a hundred possible emotions, but now, under Conrad's spell made stronger by the sounds and smells of pleasure, he could imagine only one possibility. The one Conrad had whispered behind her back. Vaughn curved a hand at her jaw, coaxed her to turn to him. Devan didn't resist, but her eyes were still cast down. He cradled her face in his hands, gave her a tiny kiss, her upper lip by the corner of her mouth. She seemed to actually shudder and that cold, shrinking, heavy tightness got worse.

"Dev."

Nothing.

"Look at me."

She lifted her lids, her eyes. Looked at him. God. Dev. His chest swelled warm at that touch of her glance.

"Wonderful. Dev. You're wonderful," he sighed, smiling, tipping his forehead to hers and skydiving into the gray storm clouds in her eyes.

Then he kissed her, meaning only to be tender and reassuring, but he was so stirred up, so warm with tender feeling, so hot and needful, that the second she yielded to him, softened and breathed, he took her mouth, hungry, seeking, almost groaning to feel her move against him where he was inside of her.

When he pulled back and looked at her she looked lit up, and her lit up look Vaughn took for pleasure and joy. He smiled, kissed her again, her soft, hot mouth, her smooth, pale cheek, jaw, chin, neck. His doubt drowning quietly in her light and her sighs he cupped her breasts and kissed them, too, just sweetly until her groan goaded him to take her nipples hungrily between his lips, his teeth, sucking, licking, gently biting.

"You came so quickly, darling," Conrad groaned by her ear, "but don't you worry,"

His groan turned to a whisper, "I promise, love. We'll make you come again."

When Vaughn leaned back and looked she was blushing again, but her breaths were already swelling with sighs as Conrad began to fuck her. And when Conrad leaned back, Devan's waist and her arms caught in the circle of his arms, Vaughn was jolted by a fresh hot surge at the sight of her inflamed nipples glistening with his saliva, and he thrust up from beneath her, just subtly, but she gasped like he'd knocked the wind out of her. With both of them moving inside her, Conrad embracing and restraining her, 523

Vaughn caressing and kissing her, Devan was sighing and groaning and quivering with abandon, now. Giving herself up to this. To them.

Up and down she rode their waves, their caresses and kisses and sighs and grunts lapping at her, washing over her, their hard, eager cocks pistoning inside her hot, tight, opening her, rubbing and filling her with their flesh and their come as they all sweated and writhed and groaned and her body shuddered and her mouth opened and her eyes watered and she groaned out loud and finally collapsed and they held her between them.

They bathed together, returned to bed together, filled the little room with murmurs and sighs and kisses, with the long deep breathing of sleep, with dozy moans and another chorus of gasps and cries. For the rest of the day the bed was never empty; they took turns for bathroom breaks and going to the kitchen, bringing water and food back for each other. Sometime after dark, exhausted, sated, they fell asleep in a warm tangle of naked limbs.

When Devan woke in the morning, Conrad was gone.

THIRTEEN: Over

Conrad. Gone.

Devan's body felt sickeningly soft. Quivery.

He'd given her things. He had. But he'd taken, too. Too much.

She couldn't breathe right. No air. Her body seemed to be folding up, collapsing in on itself, digesting itself.

Down the hall the bed creaked. Vaughn rolling over. Maybe rising.

She couldn't move. She needed to get out before Vaughn found her, but she couldn't move.

His soft, easy tread. Distant. Beyond walls and doors. But closer, now. Closer.

Nothing between them.

She sensed him behind her. Still. Quiet. Maybe wondering. Maybe already knowing.

"He's gone," she said without turning around.

Stop. Crying.

Eyes bleary and stinging, her jaw clenched to keep her cheeks dry, she turned and faced Vaughn.

Broken. Conrad's spell. His own insanity left bare.

Just looking at her, trembling and near tears, in one of those ridiculous nighties of Conrad's, the morning light showing him everything under the gauzy white, Vaughn's lungs were in agony, like someone was piling heavy stones on his chest. Every second 525

that passed in silence was like a thousand-yard drop. Descending into hell. He was for the final circle.

Vaughn. Still. Staring. Mercury irises glinting from reddening eyes. Standing there in just his shorts. He looked so hard. So cold. Like that first night when all she'd been to him was an intruder.

Every second that passed in silence he seemed to be receding. Beyond her reach. She'd never touch him, feel him again.

"Vaughn."

She blurted it desperately, terror-stricken at feeling they were disappearing from one another. As soon as she spoke she felt her hold on her tears slipping. He just stood there, rigid, almost shaking.

He braced himself. She'd accuse. Or, god, she'd plead. "Please. Don't." It was going to hurt even more than the thought of it. He wanted, needed that pain. Needed her to hurt him.

Her mouth opened. Her mouth. He'd kissed. She'd sighed as he'd touched her.

Moved inside her.

Determined not to cry, he whispered through clenched teeth, "Devan. I'm not going to hurt you."