The Yearning (17 page)

“Jas, I’d do anything for you,” Ben said. “You’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

He couldn’t. Only Mike owned that power, at least for relieving her hunger.

Mike’s forehead furrowed at Ben being so close. “Get the laptop and work on it now,” he ordered.

Desire and something akin to love shook the younger man’s voice. “I can’t leave her. She needs me as much as you.”

“It’s all right,” she said to Mike, her fingers on his lids, compelling his eyes to close. She guided his head to the pillows and his body to the side, his feet facing the cheval mirror so she could kneel next to him.

He caught her wrist, bringing it to his mouth, sucking vigorously. To mark her as his own? Her foolish heart couldn’t entertain such a thing. He was here only because she’d tricked him.

All too soon, he stopped and asked, “Is this what you want? What you need? Both of us in your bed?”

Blood rose to her cheeks, her thoughts troubled by an act that seduced and disturbed in equal measure. Was the curse bringing out behavior she would have never considered or was it freeing her to be what she tried to deny? Reluctant to know, she murmured, “I want time I don’t have.”

“Don’t say—”

Her kiss stopped him, a tender meeting of lips and tongues. His free hand went to her throat, thumb on her pulse. Its forceful beat proved his possession of her. With his objection forgotten, she nibbled his lower lip and chin, smooth from his shave, then moved to his neck and chest, inhaling his male scent, licking the sharp centers of his nipples, loving his satiny skin and the faint depression of his navel.

Ben said something she didn’t hear. His hand went to her, fingering the ends of her hair. Gently, he brushed back the locks that had spilled onto her cheek, while his other hand skimmed the edge of her bra. A meek protest rose in her throat and died. Mike’s torso twisted. In disapproval? For attention?

She gave it, stabbing her tongue into his navel, tasting the tapered hair beneath it. His narrow hips lifted, his ponderous cock toiling to reach her mouth.

With his knee on the mattress, Ben leaned forward, his fingers pushing down her bra’s lacy cup, finding her nipple, shaping it into a rigid nub.

Her nostrils widened. She smelled both men’s arousal: Ben’s was urgent, Mike’s heady and rich.

Mike offered the first invitation, straightening his right leg, beckoning her mouth to his groin.

She accepted. Ben’s arm dropped to his side as she moved away from him and toward Mike’s penis, holding it out of the way to uncover his sac. Passion compressed the glands into two tidy packages. Rubbing the tip of her nose against the creased skin, she sniffed his fragrance, more sumptuous than the most expensive perfume. She licked his sac, wanting it to smell of her. Damp with her saliva, she took his left testicle into her mouth.

He groaned loudly, happily.

Ben climbed on the bed. He unhooked her bra, asserting his place in the act. Jasmine’s breasts swung free, though not for long. Ben clothed her flesh with his palms, squeezing and panting his delight.

The walls of her pussy pumped, driving more moisture from inside. She released Mike’s left testicle and gathered his right into her mouth, her tongue studying how it differed from the other. A bit larger and more sensitive, which his extended moan clearly demonstrated.

It must have made Ben jealous. He pushed into her buttocks, his impressive bulge saying it would have its due.

Purposely, she kept her ass lifted to him and her head lowered to Mike. Finished with his balls, she rejoiced in his shaft’s beauty, her lips touring its grand form, every vein, ridge, depression, curve.

The metal teeth of Ben’s zipper hissed. His shorts fell to his knees, hitting her calves.

Jasmine’s heart stalled for a second, then beat wildly, but she didn’t stop. She took Mike’s penis into her mouth, opening her throat so most of his shaft could slip inside. He grunted. Ben pulled her thong away from her cunt and anus, his fingers exploring each, making her belly flutter and her ears ring. She had no idea which entry he’d choose, nor did she dwell on it. He would have her.

He said as much, telling her again how he’d protect her, how he’d save her. “Anything you want,” he promised, “anything, I’ll give it to you. Oh God.” His words turned into a tortured moan as he entered, unrepentantly sinking his cock into her sheath until it encased every inch of him. The invasion surprised her when it shouldn’t have. She panted around Mike’s cock. His fingers dug into the sheets, Ben’s into her hips. Both men thrust their hips, exacting pleasure.

The ménage created a decadent and enchanting picture in her mind of her nudity, lust, their need and hers. She didn’t know which image to embrace. Her body did. It chose both, the act whetting her clit. She moved her hand between her legs to attend to her need. It must have reminded Ben of his duty.

He pushed her fingers aside, rubbing her in tune with his hasty pumps, his words hurried as he again assured. “I have it, Jas. Aw God, I’ll do it for you. You won’t have to—” His words halted beneath another aching moan.

There wasn’t a chance for her to respond or to hold off. Her orgasm arrived seconds after his, gripping the insides of her thighs, her belly.

Ben muttered a curse, pissed he’d made them both come too fast.

Mike didn’t give him an opportunity for redemption. He pulled back his hips, which released his erection from her gasping mouth.

Jasmine glanced up. Mike’s ebony eyes bored into her. His voice commanded. “Take off the thong and come here.”

Obediently and willingly, she stripped and left Ben for the second time to join Mike. Despite his cuffed wrist, his position allowed him to push her down to the mattress. His body covered hers. His shaft lay hot, inflexible, imposing against her thigh. “Bend your legs. I want to feel your cunt.”

Her breasts tapped his chest with each jagged breath. From the side, Ben watched, his loose tee shifting with his elevated breathing. She bent her knees, planting her feet on the comforter, spreading her legs.

Mike’s penis slid to her juicy slit. Grabbing her hair with his cuffed hand, he pulled her head back, his mouth heading for her throat. She mewled in anticipation, hungering for this. Mike did not disappoint. His tongue swirled over her neck at the same moment his free hand guided his rod inside. He entered in one thrust and thumbed her clit in an economy of motion.

But he didn’t rush.

He obliged her to experience the act second by second—the mounting pressure in her groin from his width and size, the extreme sensitivity of her nub, the perfect warmth of his breath and tongue.

She braved his uniform strokes, holding off as he did, biting her bottom lip as he stopped so neither of them would know immediate joy. When she tried to bury her face in his hair, he wouldn’t have it. He kissed her urgently, like a man who knew their time was ending and his best intentions couldn’t change a thing.

Held captive by his tongue and cock, she relinquished everything to him, her body, heart, mind and soul. Downstairs, the grandfather clock tolled the time. For the better part of the next ten minutes he remained inside, pumping and pausing, his actions methodical, meant to drive them wild.

A glaze of sweat dampened her chest and his. They stank of sex, animal passion, each other.

His eyes pinned her as his pumps increased, demanding she hold his gaze so he could see the power he had over her, convinced she’d do anything he desired. Her hips rose to meet his, her pussy tilting to allow him the most depth.

Mike accepted, using her as he willed, as she required. Just as his size and thrusts became more than she could withstand, they came as one, their sounds carnal and indistinguishable.

Gulping air, unable to move or to think, she expected him to pull out. He didn’t. His hold on her tightened.

The bed frame rattled with Ben’s movements. Mike heard the younger man zipping his shorts, the sound of concession. Ben knew it would be a long time before he got another chance with Jasmine.

Possessive, Mike kissed her at his leisure while remaining inside to prove he was the man to whom she now belonged. Ben’s presence didn’t discourage him. In this bed, only he and Jasmine existed. Their fragrance perfumed the sheets. The pillows and mattress molded to their contours.

He tended to her cravings with his mouth, kissing her deeply, unmindful of his languor as he waited for his body to recover.

Fifteen minutes later, his cock stiffened within its prison. Her body accepted it, welcomed it. He took her again, his lovemaking painstaking and dogged. To please her? To show off for Ben? To prove something to himself? Probably all three.

He didn’t stop until he drew the last weary cry from her.

Sated, though hardly finished, he pulled out and slumped against the headboard. “Come here,” he said, his heavy breathing interrupting his words. “Sit between my legs.”

Compliant, she crawled to him, allowing him to position her body, her head lolling on his shoulder. With his feet, he pulled her legs apart, baring her naked cunt. The cheval mirror caught its damp mouth and their reflections perfectly, just as it had hours earlier. Lips to her ear, he said now what he had then, “Watch.”

Through slitted eyes, she saw him stroking her puffy folds. He viewed her elegant features. They crumpled with displeasure as he teased her clit too briefly. Her writhing told him to hurry and finish it. In direct defiance, he fingered the golden leaves dangling from her navel and those on her earlobes. The precious metal winked back. He smiled. Jasmine whimpered, her hips lifting, begging.

Rooted to the moment, Ben’s eyes rounded, taking in the scene. He slid his right knee over the linens but didn’t come closer.

Good choice, Mike knew. This act belonged to him and Jasmine. He massaged the inviting area between her legs—fleshy, wet, his.

Unknowingly, she clawed his cuffed hand. Her skull hit his collarbone with her desperate attempt to move her body into his fingers. He gave in at last and touched her, concentrating on her nub. She gasped and moaned, finally settling on a weak cry.

He worked her until she climaxed again. Her hand loosened on his wrist and fell from his. It didn’t take long for her breathing to slow. Shortly thereafter, her head slumped forward.

Mike kissed her cheek and met Ben’s eyes. In them, he saw a mess of jealousy, hurt and admiration, none of which he had the energy or time to address. He spoke as quietly as he could. “She’s asleep. I want her to stay that way until morning.”

Apparently confused, Ben crawled off the bed, shooting a glance at Jasmine to see if he’d disturbed her. She didn’t move. He went to Mike’s side and whispered, “How are we supposed to accomplish that?”

“Doesn’t anyone here have over-the-counter sleep aids? When she wakes up, put them in her food or in a drink.”

“We tried that and sedatives from a doctor after Travis almost hurt her. It didn’t work then. It’s not going to work now.”

Mike countered. “Isn’t she more exhausted now than she was then?”

“Well, yeah. She gets worse every day.”

“Then the pills may work this time. Try them. I want her to stay asleep. And I expect you to send that email. If you’re worried about someone tracking you down, use a computer at a damned Internet café or the library. Just go.”

“I will. Should I bring her to Lily’s room first?”

“She’s not going to stay asleep long in this bed, is she?”

“Okay, okay.” His blush ran all the way to his fair hairline. “I’ll take care of it.” He gathered Jasmine into his arms, struggling with her slack body.

Mike spoke softly. “When you get her settled, come back here with a pen and a piece of paper. I’ll give you what you need to get into my email account, along with Erica’s address and what I want you to send.”

Chapter Ten

Twenty minutes later, Ben read what Mike wrote and frowned. “Why are you so interested in Connor?”

“He’s the key to this crap. Without him, it’s going to be pissing hard for us to find Desiree.”

For once, doubting Ben took what he said on faith. He closed the notepad and shoved it into his back pocket. “There’s an Internet café on the other side of town. How long should I wait for Erica’s answer?”

Mike tried hard not to smile. “Once you send the message you can come back here to wait. Opening my account on your computer isn’t going to bring anyone to this house. It’s unlikely the Feds have this place under surveillance.”

“You think I’m a real ass, don’t you?”

He thought Ben loved Jasmine as only a kid in his twenties could. With a lot of romantic crap that had nothing to do with reality. She appreciated Ben’s protection. She may have even loved him as a friend, but he could never give her what she most required, even without the curse.

And you can? his thoughts ridiculed. He wasn’t here because they’d met under ordinary circumstances. He recalled Jasmine’s previous words, how the curse drew her to guys completely different from Connor, men she would have never chosen in the past. His heart sank a little more. “I think you’d do anything, legal or otherwise, to help Jasmine. What’s your connection with her anyway?” He knew he sounded like a drooling, pimply adolescent, and didn’t care. “Are you renting one of the bedrooms?”

Ben’s surprise showed in his arched brows. “Did Violet or Lily tell you that?”

“I guessed. You’re always here. Don’t you ever work?”

“All the time.” His previous admiration vanished. “I illustrate the catalogues for the sisters’ business.”

“Jasmine hired you?”

“Why? Jealous?”

Maybe. “Lily seems to be the one bossing you around. You work for her? If you do, you might want to think about telling her no every now and then.”

He picked up the gun and the tray. “I’ll send that message now.”

“I don’t advise you to take my pistol out of the house.”

“I won’t, but I’m not leaving it up here, either.”

For Jasmine to find and give to her hostage? “Ben.”

The boy stopped at the door.

“Thanks,” Mike said. “And please tell Violet and Lily about putting something in Jasmine’s food to keep her asleep.”