Lyon (24 page)

Beside her, Two lay propped on an elbow, offering gentle praise and caressing the terrain of her body from breast, to corseted rib, and hip and thigh. Then his touch left her and a moment later the mattress depressed as he came to kneel on the bed before her. A hand eased under the fall of her hair to cup her nape and the tips of his fingers lifted her jaw. When her eyes found his phallus, she suddenly realized why Lyon had summoned twins.

They were not planning to take turns with her. They would enjoy her together.

An avid excitement coursed through her. And then her lips were parting and stretching around a new cock and it was sliding along her tongue and bringing with it the taste and memory of this phantom's creator.

“That's good,” Two whispered. His hands held her skull and she let him come deeper, allowing his girth to widen her lips and fill her mouth. And still she took more.

Inches away from his root, she made a soft, garbled protest.

“Relax,” he soothed, pulling back. “Breathe.”

His brother's touch began roaming, reassuring and strong as it massaged breasts peeking from her corset, then swept down her back to reclasp her hips. The pace of his spearing had lessened and was slow and steady now—calculated to keep her poised on a razor's edge of need, but not allowing her to tumble over it to completion. She ached for a harder, faster ride, but it was impossible to speak and urge her mount on.

Under their combined tutelage, she began to breathe through her nose and relax muscles she'd been unaware she could control, and then the cock was dipping from her mouth into her throat.

Amber glinted up at her, intense and salacious, as One watched her service his twin. And then he was dragging her up his own length until she almost lost his crown, and then ramming her lower to swallow him again, over and over. Hard hands bit her thighs, pulling them apart until she was wide open to his rut. Soon his belly was oiled with her cream, and his taking had become a slick slide that rubbed her clit with each delicious stroke.

She settled into the juicy rhythm of riding and sucking, and as she began to hurtle toward orgasm, the compulsion to close her legs was strong. But One controlled her now and she could only go along on his ride.

Two's fingers flexed at her nape as he thrust himself in her mouth with increasing strength. Her cheeks ballooned with each plunge and hollowed with each retreat.

Under her, One's fucking had turned fierce. At last—just what she'd craved! Her every thought, every breath, every cell narrowed to focus only on the passionate thrill brought to her by each humid slam of their hips. A coil of sharp, desperate need twisted inside her and her fingers clawed the bed linens, her eyes squeezing shut as her body strained toward…

A strangled moan left her, as two cocks speared fathoms deep and held, shuddering. Readying. Her lovers' fingers and hands and arms locked her tight to them. A single breathless second later, masculine shouts split the air as their passion broke and they shot themselves in her throats in hot, intermittent, seemingly ceaseless spurts.

Inner muscles she hadn't known she possessed contracted on them like lecherous, milking fists. As she took from them, they gave until she was so filled with their taste and their scent and the wonder of it all that she tipped over a precipice and crashed on her own wave of concupiscent joy.

Even as she still pulsed for his brother, Two was already slipping from her mouth. And with a kiss to the feminine lips that had so pleasured him, and a poignant smile that felt like a farewell, he left the bed.

She and his brother continued on until her nether slit was choking and gasping and gulping with the onslaught of his spill and her coming. A frail protest soughed from her as he carefully lifted her from her perch before she was ready to go, and drew her upright from the bed. Having been held wide for him for so long, her legs were almost reluctant to once again meet.

Standing behind her, he hooked his arms over and around hers, so her shoulders were thrown back and her arms were loosely secured behind her. Her eyes closed, and with a sigh of contentment, she let her head loll back on his shoulder.

And then another body stood before her, this one somewhat more human than her other lovers' had been. Her lashes fluttered open. “Oh,
Dieu
—Lyon!”

His gaze heated at the sight of her wanton appearance, roving flushed breasts that plumped high over her corset and noting the gauzy chemise that lightly veiled her belly and upper thighs. Long, pale waves of hair had tangled and tendrils of it curled damply around her face. His brothers' mouths and hands had marked her skin and she was slick with the rub of their desire and her own.

Glittering amber found emerald, and his mouth curved slightly, sensuously. The backs of his fingers rose to fan over her outthrust nipples, brushing back and forth, then lingering to scissor-pinch and roll them between his knuckles. Sensation shot straight from his touch to her private core, reawakening the fading throb of her recent coming.

She made as if to embrace him, but One's arms restrained hers. She stilled, suddenly sensing the anticipation of the man behind her and wondering what it portended.

Her eyes roamed Lyon's face, seeing the renewed flush of good health. “You're better?”

But he only nodded as his arms slowly threaded hers and his brother's, and his palms slipped low to curve over her rump. His tumescent length bumped her belly as he leaned close to nuzzle the slope of her throat.

“You've been fucking other men. I can smell them on you.”

Startled by this statement, she let out a huff. “A situation
you
engineered.”

“Yes. But you enjoyed it, did you not?” His lips opened on her skin and he kissed her, sucking lightly. His hands on her backside flexed over its rounds, as palms and fingers began to leisurely explore the shape of her.

“Yes,” she whispered, enjoying his touch on her nakedness. “Yes.”

Shifting his legs wider, he dipped so his crown caught at the hem of her chemise and nudged it and himself between slender thighs that were washed with another's spill. He groaned and started to rock her, plowing his gauze-sheathed length along a furrow that still quivered with the thrill of another's rut.

“I can taste them on you. And feel where they've been—here, between your legs.”

Umm.
She relaxed against the chest behind her again, and her eyes drifted half-closed at this new gently rasping pleasure.

When Lyon lifted his head, it was to look beyond her at his brother. An odd glance passed between the two men, and there was a primal gleam in his eyes when they found hers again. His massage of her rear cheeks became a more dominant, purposeful stroke that kneaded once…twice…thrice.

And then, with exquisite gentleness, he spread her cleft, in invitation.

Wary now, she straightened, but his lips dusted over hers, murmuring and quieting her. His brother released her arms, then slid a hand to her belly to lift the chemise's hem and expose her.

She exhaled deeply as Lyon's pristine, velvet knob tipped upward from its stroke between her thighs and pierced her tender feminine slit. An erotic groan rumbled from him as his fat crown pressed on, opening and stretching lips still sensitized by another's use of them. Her pink folds gasped and caressed, trying to draw him higher, eager to show him what they'd learned. But he held back, allowing her only a taste for now.

Thighs tensed around her and she felt his brother's smooth, wet apple at the puckered
oignon
Lyon held ready for him. Green eyes flew open and clung to amber, seeking reassurance, as that other cock, still drenched from the lick of her nether throat and its own coming, prodded the resistant opening in her rear.

She set her hands on the sculpted chest before her, her eyes fixed, as she tremulously awaited what would come. Lyon kissed her then—pressed his open mouth to one that yet another of his phantom siblings had fucked, and he tasted her passion and hesitation, and her curiosity.

The pressure of this second, unfamiliar intrusion had her rising on tiptoe and sealing her mouth tighter to his. Then he swallowed her cry at the slick, sharp bite that accompanied the dilation of her ring. And as his brother's knob slipped inside, Lyon's did as well so that she held both captive within her.

Two pairs of masculine hands found her waist and hips, and a slow, dual penetration began. Another's cum eased Lyon's heat deeper, but his entry was measured, setting a pace that his twin matched. The tactile sensation of their engorged cocks, so heavily roped and knotted with veins, drilling inexorably inside her was incredible.

She felt the tension in the muscled torsos at her chest and back and knew these men went more gingerly with her than their natures urged. And she yielded to them and yielded still more, with soft gasps and whimpers, until at last, she found herself twice impaled.

“Ahh, Juliette,” her lovers groaned in those voices that were so alike.

“
Dieu
.” She stilled, almost afraid to breathe lest she burst from their occupation of her.

Lyon kissed her passionately and deeply and his brother brushed her hair aside and pressed his mouth to the angle where throat met shoulder.

She returned the kiss, so full that she wanted to scream at them to leave her. Yet when they reversed their slide, she conversely wanted to rail at them to return. Lyon set the tempo of their carnal grind that gradually increased in vigor and strength. Sandwiched between them, she felt the bunching of muscles in ridged bellies as rigid cocks were shoved and retracted in precise, parallel tandem.

And soon their thrusts turned hotter, even savage. With each ram, their cockslits kissed her so hard and so deep that she was lifted to her toes. Air seemed to ebb from the room as a second orgasm bloomed within her. As if sensing she was close, they both withdrew, retreating so far and fast that they suctioned her channels and their knobs teased her gates. Then as one, they drove home, and three bodies merged in a furious, perfect ecstasy.

Syncopated jets of semen throbbed inside her, initiating the pulse of her own contractions, then increasing the tender agony until her vision dimmed and sparks of light pinged and splintered. If not for the bodies on either side of her, she would have crumpled to her knees.

The masculine arms that enfolded her shuddered as great spasms rocked her fraternal lovers. Sultry, grateful tears of their cum filled her, then wept from her, trickling down the insides of her thighs.

At length, she felt the man behind her kiss her hair, then gently pull out. “
Grazie,
” he whispered in Lyon's seductive voice. And then he was gone and only Lyon remained.

She sagged forward against him, bumping her forehead to his chest, her breath coming in pants in the aftermath of their coitus. Long moments later, he lifted her from him and carried her to the closest bed, curling her in his arms. She lay there, facing him, so splendidly replete that she felt unable to move. Now and then, her body still twitched involuntarily under the subtle pulse of an orgasm that had not yet fully ceased.

Nearby, the fire snapped and from the darkness outside came the orchestral song of raindrops and thunder. Their breathing eventually slowed and they lay side by side contemplating one another in companionable silence.

She ran the backs of her fingers along the golden skin of his taut belly and lower, feeling the soft tufted nest of him that was moist with the pearls of their coming. Finding the base of his shaft, she traced up its length. He was still hard.

Her eyes found his, a question in them.

“Later,” he murmured, caressing her cheek. “Rest.”

Then, without looking away from her, he touched the bruise at her hip as if he'd learned through his brothers that it was there and understood what it meant. “I'm sorry.”

She shrugged, not wanting to speak of her loss now. That was the past. Here, lying before her, was her future. Perhaps. But did he mean to have her only for tonight or for a few nights, or for all nights to come?

“Enough uncertainties,” she murmured, rolling onto her stomach and elbows to gaze at him. “Explain to me what you are that you can conjure other beings from nothing.”

“Ah!” He fell onto his back, taking her with him and pulling her to lie across his chest. After a considering pause, he spoke. “You know of the mythological satyr?”

She propped her chin on a fist atop his chest to better see his face. “Followers of Dionysus? The wine god?”

He nodded. “Or Bacchus in Italy, but they are one in the same. The Satyrs have been his disciples since time immemorial.” He paused, eyeing her, then continued almost reluctantly. “My brothers and I are his descendents. Even today, we protect his legacy on our estates—the vines begun by him and a gate that stands between his world and this one.”

His hold on her had tightened as he'd spoken as if he'd suspected she might flee at his sharing of this news, but it relaxed again as she only calmly digested what he'd told her. She had more questions, of course, and asked them as they came to her. And he answered, open and easy, as he had been at Valmont's before his illness. In time, they grew quiet again.