Complete Abandon (8 page)

Leave you to your own devices at the exact moment when you just want to be an ostrich and pretend you don’t need to deal with real life.

Laura loved her and hated her for it.

“Laura?” Mike called out from the living room.

Josie was right. It was time to show up. Catching a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the door, she gasped—and then stopped. The mental torture dissipated. This was silly.

And the whole mascara-raccoon look really didn’t do it for her. Giggling (and enjoying the sound from her), she wiped her eyes, splashed some cold water on her face, and used the magic of the lavender-infused tissues to clean herself up. A deep, shaky breath or two and she opened the door, walking toward the bed, and looked up to find:

Dylan and Mike, completely naked, stretched out on the bed. Mike dangled a pair of handcuffs from one finger, while Dylan held a large champagne flute in his hand, stretched out for her to take.

“Subtle,” she said, taking the drink. She downed it in one huge gulp.

“That’s Taittinger—” Mike protested as Dylan interrupted him with a dark look.

Laura couldn’t stop herself from laughing at the scene. Mike’s long, tan, taut legs didn’t even come to the end of the enormous bed, his erection standing proud, making Laura feel a prickly heat flow through her as her eyes took him in greedily. As if that weren’t enough, Dylan lounged on the bed like a model in the middle of a shoot, one knee up, the other stretched out, his own massive cock at attention, as if it were the focal piece for a photograph.

In her mind, it was.

And between them, a space just right for her. Instead of climbing into the bed and over one of the guys, she started from the base and crawled up, her eyes shifting from one man to the other, their bodies and coloring so starkly different yet blazingly rich. Tall, blonde Mike and thick, muscled Dylan, with his swarthy complexion and riveting eyes. Both made her smolder, and both made her see that all her fears were baseless, her insecurities an old relic left over from a time when she hadn’t felt loved enough.

No need for those thoughts any more.

Dylan’s warm palm slipped under her panties, cupping her ass, and then Mike’s nimble fingers made quick work of the wisp of cotton and silken cloth, leaving the three of them completely nude on the huge bed, the room hushed and warm, the candles lending an eerie, contemplative glow as Laura relaxed—
really
relaxed—for the first time in ages.

“What do you have planned for me?” she asked Mike, eyes flitting from him to the handcuffs he held over her as Dylan teased one nipple, the shock making her shiver.

A crooked half-smile teased his lips, making her wet and, suddenly, very wanting. “We had more than enough planned for you, but we thought we would have to pry whatever’s wrong out of you.” He gently set the handcuffs down on the end table, twisting his torso in that maddening way that made muscles pop out from his waistline, the effect artistic and graceful and
hot
.

“Pry?” Now Dylan peppered her shoulders with tiny kisses that made it hard to think. Ah, that wet, warm mouth. What he could do elsewhere...

“We know you’ve been so quiet, honey,” Mike said, cupping her chin, as Dylan’s kisses continued. “We just want you to be happy. We both feel so complete when we’re with you. You light us on fire. We want to do the same for you.”

She swallowed, hard, as Dylan stopped the butterfly touch and curled around her, legs pulled up, glorious cock ready for its own set of kisses—from her.

“This is when I feel most connected to the entire world, Laura. Right here. Right now. With you,” Dylan added, brushing the hair off her face with little touches of love.

What should have happened next didn’t. Laura expected to cry, to make a bunch of excuses, to apologize, to cringe—to
deflect
. But it didn’t happen.

“I could sit here,” she said, fingers lightly stroking Mike’s shaft as he gasped, jaw tightening, struggling to listen to her, “and tell you all about why I’ve been so miserable.” In fairness, she took her other hand as she stretched out on her back, and gave Dylan a set of finger strokes that made him inhale sharply. “Right now, though, I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to tie myself in knots trying to unravel the past six months and ruin what we have right here, right now.”

“So,” she said, letting go of Mike and turning to Dylan, the press of her lips against the tight, warm skin of his pecs so luxurious and so sensual she wished she could do it—and nothing
but
—forever, “let’s read and talk later. We have six months of catching up to do.”

Strong hands pinned her to the bed with such speed she couldn’t think, her wrists pressed deeply into the mattress. “Six months, huh?” Mike asked, now looming over her, body folded on his knees, the thick thigh muscles bulging along with another very bulging muscle that glistened with need. “Which fantasy is your favorite, Laura? Because Dylan went shopping and we can do anything you want right now.”

Whatever control she thought she had over both of them with her taunting touches dissipated in seconds. Holy shit. They were
serious
. A deep, shaking sense of profound joy filled her.

“If you’re the one who is dominating, you’re the one who calls all the shots,” she rasped.

“No. Wrong,” Dylan said, his voice hoarse with desire. “You decide everything. We have only one thing we control.”

“What’s that?”

“Your orgasm.”

She groaned involuntarily, already squirming with a white-hot need that she’d assumed could be quelled with a mouth or a cock within a few minutes. They were going to draw this out amidst the splendor of the room, the greatest gift before them handed to the three by their friends:
time
. Oh, the grand joyful prospect of an entire night stretched out in infinite glory for nothing but this—pleasure and sensual pain and whatever these men did to her as the three of them explored uncharted territory in bed.

Her clit swelled with a craving to be touched and nibbled and licked and loved, the emotion so buried and unfamiliar it claimed her in full.
This
is what it felt like, to be in a state of wanting all the time. She’d hardly recognized it, having repressed it for so long, and yet here it was, laid bare just as she was, her eyes being covered by that red, silk scarf Mike had just played with minutes ago in his hands.

“You need to pick a safeword,” Dylan whispered.

“Safeword?”

“It’s something you say to stop us if—”

The giggle bubbled up inside her as someone—Mike?—adjusted the scarf. Unable to see them, her senses sharpened as she worked to know where they were in space. Dylan’s voice sounded like brandy.

“I know what a safeword is. Do we really need one? You guys aren’t going to—”

Bzzzzz
. Except that wasn’t her phone. What was that? It sounded loud.

And
big
. She felt the covers shift slightly, and then the bed began to vibrate a bit. Good hell.

“OK, OK, a safeword,” she gasped. How big was that vibrator? Racing through the set of books she had on her eReader, she wondered which sex scenes the guys had read. The possibilities were endless. Stifling a moan of ecstasy at the thought of reliving some of what she’d read, she tried to gather herself.

“Um,
Madge
is my safeword
.”

“
Madge
?” She almost laughed at the incredulity in Dylan’s voice.

“Yes,
Madge
.”

“That will halt everything permanently,” he mumbled. “And—yep. There went my erection. Good choice.”

Mike’s laugh erupted to her right as someone—she guessed him—turned the buzzing off.

“I can take care of that for you,” she murmured, fumbling with her hand for him. He was just there a moment ago, and now that he wasn’t talking, she could only go by touch and sound. The shuffle of skin on cloth as someone moved beside her tickled her ears; the muffled sound of lit candle wicks flickering as air moved, and the rasp of muscle against the sheets again all filled her with anticipation. Without vision she was acutely and frustratingly tensed for whatever came next.

Hopefully, it would be
her
.

Strong hands slid up her calves, to her thighs, and then a gentle push apart as her breath flowed in with an increased rush at the end, clit ready for the expected sensation of a finger, a mouth, of attention lovingly delivered the way she most wanted and needed it.

The warmth of a body—Mike’s, she could tell, from the way his leg brushed against her knee, the pattern of skin and hair somehow ingrained in her, her mind marveling that she could know that, blindfolded—was between her now and a heated ache spread from her belly on down, body awakening. To her surprise, Dylan’s lips were at her ear, teeth nipping her lobe, and he whispered, “I want your mouth.”

Biting her lower lip, her core swollen with need, this was almost too much. “Of course,” she said, and as her eyes rolled and she felt her body relax, layer by layer, at the same time the feel of Dylan as he moved to put his erection close to her face made a keen wave of pulses pour through her, nearly pushing her to climax by the mere thought, the hint, of what was next.

Wet, eager, and wanting, she was hardly the same woman from thirty minutes ago. And she loved it that way as the tip of Dylan’s taut cock touched her mouth. Fumbling, unable to see, she pulled one hand to his shaft, but a strong palm wrapped around her wrist and stopped her.

“
Tsk, tsk, tsk
. Dylan, we forgot to tie her wrists,” Mike said, his body catlike and stretched out, half on her and off, the massive heat from his body now covering two thirds of her as he’d stretched up from between her legs to grab her.

“Guys, you don’t have to do this,” she said in a sheepish tone. “It’s not like I need thi—”

“You have a safeword,” Mike hissed, her wrist encased in a soft coating around something metal. Click. Her shoulder adjusted, then Mike did the second arm. She was spread out on the bed and felt somewhat silly and yet more turned on than she’d ever been in her life. “Feel free to use it whenever you need. But until then, Laura, your pleasure is completely in our hands.”

A wall of pure lust pounded through her veins as Mike’s words sank in. Dylan’s hot, pulsing cock came to her mouth at the same split second Mike’s warm lips descended on her clit, the twinned tactile treasures shoving her out of her own head and back into her body, where all that mattered was her lips wrapped around Dylan’s erection, the push of Mike’s fingers on her wet folds, the heat of all three bodies working in concert with no interruptions, no plans, and nothing to do but
this
.

Hips bucking up, she found her orgasm standing ripe and ready, the tease of Mike’s little laps bringing her there as she tightened, his finger sliding inside to find a wall of muscle searching for some welcome visitor to embrace.

And then...he stopped.

Dylan’s gentle gliding in and out of her mouth, balanced above her chest, slowed down as she moaned from frustration, wanting more of what Mike had to offer. He wasn’t kidding—he was going to draw this out and bring her to the edge, then pull back, over and over until she begged.

Maybe if she pleaded now he’d relent? It had been so, so long.
Too
long.

“Please,” she mumbled, hips straining up.

Bzzzzz.

Oh, dear.

Warm liquid poured from a single drop that fell with exquisite perfection on the tip of her engorged clit, and then a river of lube poured down her folds, the feeling so lush she rolled her pelvis up to capture more. Everything felt more right now, without her hands or eyes, and she wondered what the buzzing and the lube meant.

The push of something hard sliding in the lube around her ass made her core tighten, kegels excited and pulsing. The three of them had never been shy in using Laura’s extensive sex toy collection in bed, but whatever Mike had at her spread-out ass was big.

She pushed against it, body eager on a level that her mind hadn’t quite caught up to.

“Good,” Mike said, his voice thick with emotion. “You want it.”

Who was this? Mike could certainly take charge in the bedroom but he seemed to...
revel
in exerting so much sensual control over her. Dylan wasn’t exactly a wallflower, either, his hands buried in her hair, fingers lovingly massaging her scalp as he gently rode her mouth. His legs tightened and she knew that it was
her
body,
her
lips,
her
tongue, and the essence of her that brought him to this kind of free hedonism, the easy, open sensuality that they shared right now. It made what Mike was doing to her all the more intense as he edged whatever vibrating device he used toward her puckered hole, sending her pussy walls into spasms that weren’t quite orgasms.

Unfortunately.

And then the live wire of her entire body coalesced into one pinpointed strand of pure presence and enjoyment as he breached her tight ring of muscle and—

Aahhhhhh
. The feeling of fullness was so powerful that she faded to a white cloud in her mind, existing as nothing more than pure touch. A ball of nerves, a set of lungs that panted, and an ass and pussy that throbbed with short bursts of pounding blood and roaring cravings. Dylan’s slow, shallow thrusts gave her tongue an opportunity to find the ring of his mushroom cap and to give it the languid, centered attention it deserved until suddenly he was gone, her hands itching to touch him, body one long bundle of need to give.

Receiving so much pleasure was hard. Harder than she’d ever imagined, and as Mike slowly inserted the vibrating device past her point of comfort she found a thick wall of soft pain heightened everything, making the pleasure achingly better. Ears perked, she could hear birds outside, the rustle of vibrant late-fall leaves floating to the forest ground, the wind whistling against tall pines.

Just as she began to undulate in waves, her hips moving in a perfect sine curve, Mike slid the device out of her, leaving an emptiness she couldn’t bear.