Edwards, Willa - Midnight Mirage (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (6 page)

And with Mallory, he was even more determined to help her find that submission. Her tight, buttoned control, the heavy, protective walls around her heart, her desperate need for release, all called to him. He didn’t wish to give her just a sexual release, though she’d certainly need that as well, but also a release from the sadness he could always see in the depth of her stormy eyes, the weight of her isolation displayed in the crinkles around her mouth, the pain following her like one year after the next.

He brushed his lips along Mallory’s neck, pulling back to find a playful smile covering her lips. A soft tug drew his attention downward to find her fingers wrapped around the buttons of his shirt, leaving an open trail of flesh for her touch.

Lincoln was amazed by his own ignorance of her movements, thinking her soft fingers had pulled at the cloth in passion. Instead she’d removed the smooth white linen from his pants, unbuttoning the small, shiny buttons from the bottom up. He’d never been so distracted with a woman before. But he was even more surprised by how his lack of control didn’t bother him as he enjoyed her bold explorations.

Her fingers stroked his chest, exploring his skin with the very tips. She scraped downward with her nails until his skin prickled and his breath was harsh in his ears.

Her touch trailed up and down his torso, streamers of heat following each brush. Lincoln fisted the couch cushions next to him. He wanted to grab her wrists and pull her close, force her beneath him, discover her entire body with his fingers and lips. Taking two deep breaths, Lincoln rallied his control, remaining still beneath her explorations, enjoying the sensation of her skin against his.

Her fingertips crested the edge of his pants, circling the button of his jeans. Her eyes rose to his, hot as a packed stadium. The pewter color molten enough he might melt beneath her stare, and was more than happy to do so.

“Off,” she whispered just above a breath. Her eyes were dark, heated with lust. The demanded
off
subtle but undeniable.

And unnecessary. If he wasn’t compelling himself to stay rigid, he’d already have ripped the fabric from his body. He wanted to take his shirt off. He wanted to take everything off and feel her naked flesh against his.

She turned her head to the side a fraction, to meet Gabe’s stare at her feet. He picked his head up at her attention, his eyes wide like a puppy in the cold, as if he’d feared she’d forgotten him.

“You, too.”

* * * *

Mallory extended her toes, pushing them into Gabe’s chest and shoving him backwards. She licked her lips as she watched his eyes go wide with shocked surprise, increasing the irregularity of the pound in her head and the throbbing ache between her legs.

Mallory rather liked keeping these men off-kilter, and it was so easy to do. They never expected her to push them or toy with them. Maybe all the other women they’d shared had been too overwhelmed by the pleasure to make much of an effort. Mallory could certainly understand that, even if it made her stomach fumble in an unsettling flip-flop. But Mallory had never really mastered being complacent, and she didn’t intend to start now.

Gabe leaned back on his heels, gripping the edge of his black jersey T-shirt, and pulled it over his head in one quick movement, throwing it aside like a noisemaker on January first.

Beside her she heard Lincoln groan and shift. He extended his arms to wrap around her, to pull her back in to his hot body. The warm, spicy male scent of him filled her nose, his breath fanning her face.

Though Mallory had no problem with the location, she wanted more. Much more.

Escaping his enticing embrace, Mallory scooted down the couch to the very end. She coiled her legs up to her chest, pressing her chin to a knee as she used her toes to grip the rough fabric of Lincoln’s jeans.

“I said off.” She tried to use her most stern and demanding voice, but she couldn’t stop the catch in her throat on the last word, destroying her attempt.

Lincoln unfastened the remaining buttons of his linen shirt and allowed it to drop from his shoulders like a streamer in the wind. “Yes, mistress,” he responded, fire burning in his eyes. The devilish curve of his full lips detailing as much as he might play, he was in control. They both knew the truth.

Lincoln rose from the couch. Mallory suddenly felt cold as he stepped up to stand beside his best friend. She instantly missed his heat, the sharp smell of his skin, the confining circle of his arms.

Yet any regret she felt at his absence was quickly erased by the sight of these two men standing before her. Two bare, rippling chests, two warm, flat stomachs displayed for her pleasure. Two sets of bronze arms that would feel like heaven wrapped around her, after she teased a few more begging pleas from them to touch her again.

Mallory smiled, watching as the two men fumbled with the zippers of their pants, fingers clumsy and uncoordinated as seventeen-year-olds in their first encounter. It had been a long time since she’d had such an effect on any man. She stared up at the dark lust of Lincoln’s midnight eyes, the desperate ripping of Gabe’s fingers. Her breathe rasped between her lips. The wetness between her thighs amplified, responding to the heady mixture of desire and desperation these men gave off in a thick cologne.

It was intoxicating to be so desired, to cause two grown, experienced men to shake like schoolboys. Mallory’s body flamed and her mind clouded with a bold confidence she’d never experienced before, inciting her on.

* * * *

“Here, let me help.” Mallory slipped off the couch to kneel on the floor before Lincoln. Her round ass protruded before Gabe, at the perfect height it would take to reach out and grab it, massage it, slap it. He could push her over onto her hands and knees and be inside her in the amount of time it took for him to unzip his fly, if it weren’t for Lincoln standing before her.

Her dark, purple-covered nails gripped the tab and pulled down. Every nerve in his body screamed with the tick of the zipper’s release. His cock pressed harder, the pinch of his own metallic zipper into the tender underside of his dick like a cool burn against his skin. The pain heightened his senses, only making him more desperate, more frantic to be inside her.

He surveyed Mallory’s profile, her soft, parted lips, her deep, uneven breaths. Her mouth wouldn’t be open for long. He’d be putting it to better use as soon as she turned his way.

It was a good thing she was dealing with Lincoln’s clothing first. He could go slowly. He had more control than Gabe could muster on his best day. If her hands were on him, he wouldn’t be letting her turn away to touch or strip Lincoln. Not that he wanted to deprive his friend, but he wouldn’t be able to help himself. He wanted her too much. He’d dreamed of her too long.

Gabe watched with growing eagerness as her fingers peeled down Lincoln’s dark jeans, freeing his cock to stand at full attention. Her pouty cranberry lips pursed, placing a kiss on the very tip as Lincoln groaned above her.

“Mallory,” he croaked, his throat husky, and Gabe’s anticipation spiked.

She kissed his thighs, her head bobbing before Lincoln, her long, dark hair floating around her in a wave. If Gabe couldn’t see from above, he might even think she was performing an entirely different act upon his friend. A show Gabe would’ve enjoyed watching. Blood shot down his veins, pooling in his groin at the thought.

Lincoln’s fingers tangled in her hair, gently massaging her scalp while using the slight pressure to direct her gentle caresses. Lincoln groaned as his cock rubbed against her cheeks while she kissed his pubic bone and stomach.

Pulling tight on her hair, the streamers of color encasing his hand, he pulled Mallory’s lips off his body. Her head snapped up, angled to meet his glare. His chest pounded as he stared down at their woman. Even from his angle, Gabe could see there was no fear in Mallory’s eyes, only the gleam of passion, or lust unfulfilled.

Lincoln leaned down as if to kiss her, but instead he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, tugging on the flesh. She mewed, surprised and thrilled in the same sound. Gabe’s nerves vibrated with the noise.

Lincoln smiled as he released her, turning her head toward Gabe. Her lips shone with moisture in the limited light, swollen, full, and pink from her previous kisses. Her eyes gleamed, thick arousal covering her gaze.

“Now him,” Lincoln commanded, nodding his head toward Gabe, his heartbeat skyrocketing and his cock hardening to an iron rod beneath his jeans. Finally, it was his turn.

* * * *

As Mallory looked up into Gabe’s focused stare, she had no doubt what he wanted. Luckily it was exactly what she wanted, too. After a little play and tease, of course.

Mallory turned, kneeling toward Gabe, her mouth inches from his crotch. She huffed a breath, warm and moist, against his jeans. Gabe stifled a groan above her, coiling the heat in her stomach tighter. She smiled, shifting forward to bump her lips against his crotch, torturing him with the brief touch.

A spot burnt hot on her back, the effect of Lincoln’s stare. His distant gruff breaths echoed through the room as he watched. Spurred on by her spectator, the joy of hearing not one set of lungs but two rise in anticipation and pleasure, she eased forward, mouthing the hard lump of Gabe’s cock through the denim. “You’re killing me, love,” Gabe groaned, the signal Mallory was waiting for.

Her heart fluttered, excited to progress to the next step. It wasn’t enough for her either. She wanted the taste of him along her tongue, the velvety sensation of his dick rubbing against her throat. But not before Mallory had her fun.

“What can I do to help?” Mallory asked in a fake dumb voice. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling at her game. These men had been in control all evening. Now it was her turn.

Behind her Lincoln chuckled. Gabe was the perfect victim for her assault. She’d never be able to play with Lincoln this way. He was far too in control to fall for her pranks, but Gabe burned hot, making him an easy mark.

A cluster of irritated wrinkles popped out along Gabe’s forehead at her faked innocence. His eyes darkened to the color of whiskey. “I think you know.”

“Do I?”

“Yes,” Gabe growled, letting out a long, labored breath. “I want you to take off my pants.”

“I can do that,” Mallory responded smugly, inching closer, tracing the edge of his pants, unsnapping and unzipping his jeans.

“Yes,” Gabe moaned as her palms skimmed over his flat stomach, curled around his hips as she pushed his jeans down.

She palmed his butt as she shoved at the denim, squeezing the hard muscles, amazed the responding groan came from her instead of Gabe. She shouldn’t be surprised these men didn’t wear any underwear, allowing them to be ready and accessible at all times.

Gabe combed his fingers through her hair, pushing the strands back from her face as he let out a long groan. His grip was possessive, sending a thrill through her.

She slipped the denim down his body, revealing his pubic bone and the deep
V
of muscle pointing down to the part of him most desperate for her. Her mouth watered at the defined contours, inches from her face, desperate to map the sharp angles along his stomach and chest with her tongue.

She looked up, meeting his ferocious stare, like that of a tiger that had been caged for far too long. The possessive thread in his eyes made her shiver, gripping his jeans in her hands convulsively. Gabe’s fingers trailed along her jaw, down the column of her throat, soft and seductive.

Without looking down, Mallory shoved his clothing to his knees, freeing his cock. The thick length pointed out from his body, level with her mouth.

His length was slightly longer than Lincoln’s, though he didn’t have the girth of Lincoln’s dick. The soft skin and masculine smell wafting from him made her heart race and her head dizzy with lust.

She was only vaguely aware of Lincoln behind them, his deep gusts adding to the melody of their own battered breathing. He stayed back, not touching her, as if allowing Gabe his own explorations of what Lincoln had already discovered, but she missed him. She mourned the absence of another sets of hands on her, another warm body pressed up against her, another set of lips kissing her.

Mallory extended her hand to cup Gabe’s balls, sporadically covered with hay-colored hairs, not as dark or large as Lincoln’s testicles. She massaged them, discovering every inch of skin and sensitive nerve.

The pink helmet head of his cock dangled before her, her warm breath puffing against it in her close proximity. On instinct she moved forward, placing a kiss on the very tip, the soft skin burning along her lips. Gabe groaned, a tremor rumbling down his massive frame. He pumped his hips against her face, encouraging her to take more of him into her mouth.