The Silk Tie (Erotic Threesome Romance) (25 page)

“I love
walking with you like this,” Nick said, squeezing my fingers. “It’s so nice to
be able to do it without wondering what people will be saying in the paper-shop
five minutes later.”

“I
know.” I brought his hand to my mouth and brushed his knuckles over my lips. “I
adore living in Little Mickleton, but it would be nice if people were a bit
more open-minded.”

“I
think they’re pretty used to us by now.”

“Yeah,
you’re probably right.”

The
stroll back to the hotel along the promenade was peppered with curiosities
demanding our attention. A man dressed as a Roman Emperor and sprayed entirely
in gold paint stood like a statue, moving only when children dropped cents into
his urn. Another dressed as Captain Jack Sparrow, posed for photographs, Nick
couldn’t resist. We stood for ten minutes and admired an enormous and
incredibly intricate sandcastle before dropping several Euros into the artist’s
green plastic bucket.

Keen as
we were to get one another naked, the beauty of having been together so long
was knowing that it
would
happen. The anticipation, the togetherness
beforehand, was all part of the seduction.

Finally
we reached our room. It was spacious and minimal, the bed enormous and covered
in a cream and gold eiderdown, the piping on the delicate brocade a vibrant
red. A huge expanse of glass opened onto a balcony, and when Nick flung open
the doors the distant roar of the waves rolled upwards and filled the room,
bringing with it salty air and the shrill call of a gull.

“I’m
going to freshen up,” Nick said, toeing off his shoes and catching my eye in
the mirror. “Make sure you’re naked when I get back.”

“Aye,
aye, Captain,” I said giving a mock salute.

He
grinned and disappeared into the en-suite.

After
quickly checking my mobile for messages—none—I turned off my cell.
I shucked off my beige shorts and checked shirt and tossed them onto the chair.
I didn’t wear boxers or any other type of underwear. It was a habit I’d adopted
years ago, not long after I met Nick and they kept getting ripped from my body;
now I just went without.

Sliding
between the cool, Egyptian sheets, I sighed in contentment and waited for my
lover. My dick was hard just thinking about his hot, granite body against mine,
in mine
. I locked my hands behind my head and stared up at the ceiling,
resisted the temptation to start without him.

Luckily
I didn’t have to wait long. The en-suite door opened and Nick stepped out,
gloriously naked and his beautiful cock bouncing upwards from his wiry bush of
black pubic hair. My heart rate skipped up a notch as he flicked off the light,
allowing the moonlight to filter over the bed in a ghostly glow.

Throwing
back the covers, I exposed my body, showing him my engorged need.

“You
want the final part of your anniversary present?” he asked in a low, husky
voice, his gaze scanning me from my toes to my head.

“Bring
it on,” I said, fisting my shaft and sliding my thumb under the rim of my
cock-head.

He
kneeled on the bed and carefully unpeeled my fingers from my erection. “Allow
me.”

I
squeezed my eyes shut and willed my hips not to jerk upwards as he tapped his
tongue over my slit, scooping up a thick drip of pre-cum.

“My,
you are ready for it,” he whispered, working the tip of his tongue over my
glans in a zigzag pattern.

“Oh,
yes, that’s it,” I moaned. I turned my head on the pillow and ran my fingers
over his short hair. “Oh, Nick, you do it so good to me.”

He
didn’t answer. In response he sank low, taking me on a perfect deep-throated
ride. His mouth was warm and soft and his tongue a deep, strong groove that
hugged my shaft. When he bobbed so low my glans touched the back of his throat
I groaned, drawn out and luxuriously, loving the way the sound mixed with the
crashing of the sea; it was so erotic and at one with nature, a wave of wet
sensations and needy emotions.

He
sucked back up, and his fingers joined the party, exploring and caressing the
base of my shaft. He cupped my balls and squeezed gently, rolling them within
their loose, wrinkled skin.

I
groaned again and willed control. Nick’s skillful fingers combined with his
talented mouth could easily have me reaching the finish line early, and I
didn’t want that.

“Do you
want me to fuck you?” Nick asked, his warm breath breezing over my belly and
cooling my saliva-wet shaft.

“Yes,
oh, yes.”

“Good,
because I’m going to. I’m going to fuck your ass so hard. So hard to show you
how much I love you.” As he spoke he circled a lubed finger around the tight
rim of my anus.

I
trembled, as I always did, just before he penetrated me. The anticipation of
the pleasure I knew he could give was almost unbearable.

He sank
back down on my cock, sucking and rippling his tongue. At the same time he
delved one long, strong finger into my tightly puckered hole.

I
gasped and stretched my legs wider across the mattress. Drew up my knees, and
offered myself to him, as completely open as I could be.

One
finger turned into two. He tunneled and probed, stroking over my prostate in a
teasing, tickling way. I bucked my hips for more, my breaths coming in short,
sharp gasps. Behind my tightly shut eyelids fireworks exploded. The need to
grab that first step to orgasm raged through me and I struggled to control it.

His
mouth was busy, so was his tongue. My cock pulsed against his palate, the veins
so engorged they ached. When he added a third finger I feared I might come. My bollocks
were retracting, burying themselves up into the base of my shaft, the pressure
inside boiling up to a bubbling throb.

“Oh,
God, Nick, please, be careful, I’m going to…”

He must
have heard the desperation in my voice for he eased the wild fretting of his
tongue and slowed his wicked, pumping fingers.

I
grabbed a deep breath and sought my control once more. Found it, just, and hung
on.

“Come
here,” I said, tugging at his shoulders, “Please, come here.”

Keeping
his fingers buried in my ass and scissoring gently, he released my cock and
began to spread kisses up over my flat belly, dipping into the indentation of
my navel then licking up toward my nipples.

“I want
you so much,” I said breathlessly. “Nick, please, fuck me, hurry.”

He
responded by giving my right nipple a sharp bite.

I
fisted the sheet with one hand and gripped his head with the other. The sting
of pain when I was so aroused was an extra blissful sensation. I harnessed the
endorphins the sore spot produced and added them to the heightened state I was
basking in.

He
treated my other nipple to the same bite. Sank his fingers knuckle deep in my
ass, twisting and turning them industriously as he went.

“Ah,
ah,” I panted, arching my back and knocking my hips into his warm, muscular
body.

“Oh, I love
it when you want me so much,” he said, licking his way along the taut tendons
of my neck. “It makes me feel so alive.”

“I want
you all right.” I wrapped my hand around his nape and pulled him in for a hot,
panting kiss. My tongue searching and needy, slippery and desperate.

He fed
me wild kiss for wild kiss. Pumping into me and rubbing my excited prostate
with unrelenting fingertips.

I tore
my mouth from his. “Please, your cock. I want to come with your cock in me.”

He
stared into my eyes. The silvery glow of the moonlight made his sparkle and
look so brown they appeared black.

Without
a word he pulled his fingers from my tight hole, and sat back on his haunches.
He reached for a tube of lube and quickly greased up his dark, jutting cock.
Had I not been feeling so desperate, I would have snapped forward and done it
for him, but my hunger to have him sinking into my ass was overwhelming and I
wanted nothing to get in the way of Nick fucking me.

I
clutched my kneecaps, drawing my legs up so my thighs were pressed against my
torso.

“That’s
it, baby, just relax,” he said in a growling voice and directed the wide,
mushroomed head of his cock at my up-tilted anus.

Relax!
I was a coiled spring about to unwind—spectacularly.

I held
my breath and studied his face as he pushed in past that first barrier. The
heat of his cock and the chill of the lube was exquisite, a beautiful contrast.
I watched his lips pull back over his teeth and his eyes shut tight. He loved
this first bit, the stretch, the entry, he often told me. So did I. We’d made
love a million times in a million different ways but it was always special, he
always made me feel so adored.

“Ah,
yes, that’s it, fuck, Josh, yeah, squeeze me tight, tighter, yes, yes.” He
hissed in a breath.

I
clamped my anus as he slid in, a smooth glide that filled me to bursting point.
He didn’t stop until his bollocks hit my ass cheeks, the sparse hairs tickly
and the soft skin cool.

My
fingernails dug into my shins, my hips were stretched apart, and as he dropped
his weight to kiss me, my knees clamped against the sides of his torso.

Instead
of setting up a pulling in-and-out rhythm, Nick began to rock, the hard stalk
of his cock massaging my special internal place perfectly, my own shaft trapped
between our bodies.

“You
like your final present?” he asked into my mouth.

“Yes,
yes, oh, God, yes.” I held his cheeks and cupped my palms over his wide, angled
jawline. “Yes, Nick, oh God, I love you so much.”

“And I
love you, more than anything else in the world. Now come for me, come hard and
long, and don’t hold anything back, let me hear how good I, your husband, makes
you feel.”

He
deepened his entry and dropped his weight farther. I gave myself up to him.
Nothing else existed except for Nick and the glorious way he made me come. His
big, solid dick up my ass, and the coarse hairs on his abdomen scraping
deliciously over my engorged shaft was my own personal heaven.

“Ah,
yes, fucking hell, I love you, yes, yes, yes,” I cried out. Deep within me
there was an explosion and my ass pulsed into a series of powerful
contractions. My bollocks fired out the pressure that had been building,
shooting it up my shaft and jettisoning it between our frantic bodies.

“Ah,
you sound so fucking awesome when you come,” he groaned.

“Oh,
you’re so deep, don’t stop, keep going, take every last bit of me.”

This
seemed to tip Nick over the edge, and instead of rocking he lifted up and began
to pound in and out of my quivering ass. Slapping up against my butt cheeks and
thighs with each devastating thrust.

I
stretched my arms up and grabbed hold of the slats in the headboard. Allowed
him to own my body. Use it to take himself to an ecstatic high.

“Fucking
hell, that’s it, that’s it,” he shouted, forging in fast and hard then freezing
at the hilt.

I
peeled open my eyes and reveled in the sensation of his cock spurting into me,
filling my ass with his need and his hot cum.

“Oh, my
God,” he cried, gripping my waist and impaling me farther onto his spasming
shaft. “That’s so good, so fucking good.”

Still
clutching the headboard, I braced my heels on the bed as he rammed into me
twice more, shuddering out his climax. He was so hard and long, sometimes I
wondered how the hell he fit inside me when his cock was at its maximum length
and girth, just before he orgasmed.

“Oh,
yes,” he panted, dropping down and burying his face in my neck.

I
allowed my legs to flop to the sides, released the headboard and wrapped my
arms around his shoulders. I held him close as he trembled and his heart beat
wildly.

“Thank
you,” I whispered into his razor-short hair.

“For
what?”

“For
such a wonderful anniversary. It’s been perfect.”

“You’re
perfect,” he said, kissing my neck. “I can’t imagine my life without you. I
would do anything for you, you know that.”

“The
feeling is mutual,” I said, stoking my fingers down his damp back, dipping into
the gutter of his spine and feeling the first rise of his buttocks. “We will be
together forever, no matter what happens. You must always remember that.”

Laura

Okay,
so Marbella had been a long way to go for a weekend and had maxed out the
credit card, but I just had to escape the gray June London was offering. Where
were the ice-cream-coated kids, the heavy, week-old smog, and the sun-screened
bodies lounging in the parks?

Looking
around the endless beach, it seemed all the sticky kids and the suntanned
torsos had made the same decision as me—to get the hell out of the city
and closer to the Equator.

I
stretched back on my lounger and stared at the horizon. The sea was the color
of a Ceylon sapphire, a pale crystal blue with just a few frothy waves breaking
on the surface. The fine sand, a vivid gold, was interrupted only by bright
bikinis, colorful swim trunks and the odd striped windbreak. It was a like a
scene from a travel brochure, which was just as well since my latest
photographic assignment was about the masses escaping the dismal British
weather.

I
clicked away on my Nikon digital. Took a shot of two children building a
sandcastle, then turned and zoomed in on a waiter delivering an umbrella-and-cherry-strewn
cocktail to a woman in a white bikini on a white sun bed beneath a white
parasol. I studied the image, slurped up the last of my own fruity, rum-laced
cocktail, then turned my lens to sea. A beautiful yacht broke the surface and I
snapped its graceful profile; it was almost silhouetted because of the dense
sunshine. I reduced my zoom and scanned the ebbing waves. Several kids splashed
noisily, an elderly couple walked past hand in hand, and then, then a buff
beach God strolled out of the water.

It was
as if every cell in my body magnetically tuned in to him. A fizzing sensation
of awareness buzzed over my skin. I caught my breath and skimmed my gaze over
him. It was a Daniel Craig moment, but this was a million times better, because
this
perfect specimen of manhood was here, breathing the same air as me,
walking on the same sand as my lounger rested on.

I
clicked away, keen to immortalize that broad, angular chest the color of a
perfect apple-pie crust. I needed to record that slim waist, wall of bricked
abs and tight navy swim trunks. His thighs were wide with muscles, tensing with
each step he took out of the waves.

My
index finger went on overdrive as he scraped back his wet hair, the action
causing his torso to stretch and amplify his sumptuous oblique muscles angling
down to his shorts. I licked my lips, straightened my back and thought what
perfect shots I’d have.

He was
getting closer. He’d left the gentle push-pull of the ebbing waves and was now
on dry powdery sand. Kicking up little clouds behind himself with each step.

Suddenly
my mouth dried and I swallowed. He was staring straight at me. I took one last
indulgent shot then lowered my lens. In an instant my heart rate shot to
dangerous levels. By reducing my zoom the lens had fooled me into thinking he
was farther away than he was. The glaring truth was his broad shadow was just
about to engulf me. Swallow me whole.

I
stared up into the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. They were the exact shade of the
cloudless sky above me. He pushed his hair back again; it was dark blond and
several long tendrils flopped straight back over his forehead. His parted his
lips, as if to speak, then closed it and tipped his mouth into a smile instead.

If I’d
been hot before, now I was on fire. His smile was enough to cause my bikini
briefs to spontaneously combust. Wide sensuous lips, the lower one a little
plump, screamed sin. Good, hot, dirty sin. Oh, it had been so long since I’d
enjoyed the benefit of a sexy man’s mouth on my body.

I
matched his smile, lifted my shades to the top of my head and rested back on my
lounger. Enjoyed his gaze roaming down my body and was glad I’d opted for my
favorite red bikini that morning. It had tiny white polka dots and the
halter-neck top was especially flattering on my small breasts.

But
despite his appreciative expression he didn’t slow down. He kept on walking,
stepped right past me, so close that tiny grains of sand from his passing feet
sprinkled onto my magazine and beach bag. I stared at his long limbs, wishing I
wasn’t such a sucker for a handsome face and mouthwatering body.

It was
then I spotted his wedding ring.

Damn.

Just my
bloody luck.

I
sighed and dropped my shades over my eyes. How typical was that? Though of
course I should have known. The good ones were always taken. It seemed to be
one of life’s irritating nuances, the older you got and the more keen you were
to settle down, the less men there were to choose from.

I shut
my eyes and tried not to feel jealous of the lucky woman who would be getting a
drippy, salt-laden kiss from that beautiful mouth right now. Running her hands
over sun-warmed, smooth skin and giggling as he whispered what dirty things he
would do to her later, in bed. I squeezed my legs together and my clit gave a
little tug behind my bikini briefs. There would be no man in my bed tonight,
just my trusty Rampant Rocker vibrator. Rocky, as I affectionately called him,
had been my only release for nearly a year now. A string of disastrous
relationships with men who said one thing but meant another had led to a
decision to take a year off from dating. But that year was nearly up, and I
wouldn’t say no to a man again. Even if it was just for one night.

I
drifted into an explicit daydream about what I’d do with a hot male body tied
up before me. I’d start with long, slow kisses, move on to oral sex; perhaps I
would sit on his face. Then I would ride him, hard and fast. Get myself off
over and over, my pussy gorging on rock hard cock. Next I would let him strap
me down, lay spread-eagled and surrendered, allow him to do what he wanted to
my poor neglected body. In the end I would be crying for a rest he’d made me
come so many times.

“I
brought you a fresh drink.”

The
deep voice at my side startled me from the erotic picture my mind had created.
I opened my eyes, sat up and propped my glasses on my head. Hoped I hadn’t
mumbled anything incriminating during my daydream.

Sitting
on the empty lounger next to mine was Beach God. The very man, I now realized,
who’d been the star of my recently concocted fantasy. Warm anticipation poured
through me. He was truly beautiful and his smile devastatingly infectious.

But
why is he sitting next to me?

“Oh, er
thanks,” I managed, reaching for the large Pina Colada he offered forward. It
had three straws emerging from white froth and two slices of pineapple balanced
on the rim. “But how did you know—?”

“That
you were drinking Pina Colada? I asked the waiter at the beach bar.” He nodded
in the direction of a circular wooden hut with a reed-stick roof.

“Oh,
well, thank you very much. I’d just finished mine.”

“I
know.” He grinned and took a sip from a bottle of beer. When he lowered the
bottle it made a soft sploshing sound. He held out his hand. “Josh Kendal.”

He
wrapped his long, strong fingers around mine and squeezed gently. His skin was
as smooth and warm as I’d imagined, though I noticed callouses on his palm.

“Laura
Makay. It’s nice to meet you, Josh. Thanks for the drink.”

“Are
you here alone, Laura?”

“Yes,
just for a long weekend. I need pictures for an assignment so decided to take a
working holiday.”

“Great
place you’ve chosen to work. Marbella’s amazing.”

“Yes,
it is.” I took a sip of my scrumptious cocktail, appreciating its coolness
after the dregs of my last one that had warmed in the sunshine. “What about
you. Are you here alone or are you with your wife?” I directed my gaze at his
left hand, staring studiously at his silver wedding ring for a few seconds
before re-settling my gaze on his.

He
grinned. “No, not at all, I don’t have a wife.”

I
raised my eyebrows a fraction and took another sip of drink. No wife but
wearing a wedding ring? I would wait for him to explain that one.

His
grin was still in place when he nodded in the direction of the beach bar. “I’m
here with my partner, Nick.”

I
followed his gaze.

“That’s
him, sitting in the shade, catching up on emails,” Josh said.

I
spotted a tall, dark-haired guy hunched over a laptop. He wore flowery swim
shorts and had a broad, hairy chest. “Your partner. As in business.”

Josh
laughed, a deep rumbling sound. “God no, I couldn’t work with him, he’s
fanatical about detail, it would drive me crazy. No, Nick is my husband” He
smoothed his index finger over the ring. “We’ve been together for ten years.
That’s why we’re in Marbella. He’s treating me to a holiday as an anniversary
present.”

I felt
as though a ton of rubble had just been dropped inside my chest. Of all the
luck. Not only was the delectable man at my side married, he was also gay. He
couldn’t be more out of reach if he was living on the damn moon. “Well, er,
congratulations,” I said, swallowing tightly. “On, your, you know,
anniversary.” I gulped down several big mouthfuls of cocktail, ensuring the
straw was right at the base of the glass to maximize the rum hit.

“Thanks,”
he said, pushing his hair from his face again.

I
rested back and slotted my sunglasses down over the bridge of my nose. I didn’t
want him to spot the disappointment in my eyes. Josh was by far the most lovely
looking man I’d spoken to in years and suddenly finding out nothing would ever
happen between us, not even for one night, created a twisting frustration in my
gut.

“So
where are you staying?” he asked.

“Just
here.” I tipped my head to the towering hotel behind the beach bar. “At The
Peniche.”

“Yes,
so are we. It’s pretty special, isn’t it?”

“It’s
lovely, but I really should have been kinder to my bank balance and gone for
something a little cheaper.”

“So why
didn’t you?”

“Well,
since I’m traveling alone I wanted to know my hotel wasn’t going to be on some
dingy back street. Plus, this one has free airport transfers so I didn’t need
to hire a car.” I shrugged. “And it’s just for four nights anyway.”

He
smiled. “I think it does everyone good to be spoiled sometimes.”

“Definitely.
Has Nick been spoiling you?”

“God
yes. He acts like a hard nut but he’s a complete softy really, very romantic
when the mood takes him and he’s not swamped by work.”

“What
does he do?”

“He’s
an architect. He’s got his own business which he runs from home, but it means
he needs to keep on top of current projects when we’re away. He can’t
completely forget about his clients.”

“No
absolutely.”

“It
only takes him a couple of hours a day, though, and it suits me to go for a
swim and laze in the sun reading. If he doesn’t do it he only worries and gets
crabby.”

“I understand
what that’s like. When I have an assignment I like to just get on with it.”

“What
is it you do exactly?”

“I’m a
freelance photographer.” I nodded at the camera by my side. “Sometimes I work
to a specific request my agent has negotiated, other times I just snap away and
sell what looks good.”

“Wow,
that’s a pretty impressive way to earn a living.”

“Yes,
it’s fun, but to be honest I could do with selling a few more pictures. Though
if I don’t, it wouldn’t stop me being a photographer. I love what I do.
Capturing an image, a moment in time, it makes me feel like I’m a documenter of
history.”

He
grinned, flashing neat white teeth and sending small lines darting from the
sides of his eyes. “So what are your favorite types of shots?”

I
thought for a second. “Hard to say. I like taking ones like I have been today.
On a beach, everyone having fun, great light to play with, not much to tell you
what decade it is except for the style of beachwear. Then other times I like to
really concentrate on the detail, close ups, nature particularly, flowers,
bugs, cobwebs on a frosty morning, that sort of thing.”

“Nice.”
He took a sip of his beer. When he took the rim of the bottle from his lips
they were coated with moisture. A small dot of white froth sat in the central
bow of his top lip.

“You
ever do portraits?” he asked, apparently oblivious of my intense scrutiny of
his mouth, and luckily none the wiser to the fact that I was imagining what it
would be like to
be
that speck of beer froth.

“Er,
yes, I have in the past. It usually pays well, and if the subject is…” I
paused, searching for the right words as I kicked my brain into gear again. On
the tip of my tongue was a comment about being physically perfect and how that
made portrait work so much easier, but I couldn’t say that without blushing,
for surely Josh knew how physically perfect he was. Surely he was aware he was
having an effect on me despite the fact he’d been honest in telling me not only
was he gay but also married.