Three Men and a Woman: Annabelle (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (3 page)

His breath was coming harder when she finally had it all the way up, letting him look his fill. His hand moved from her waist, and she heard his zipper open and the little hum of pleasure that followed. He was stroking himself.

He put his hand between her shoulder blades, keeping her hard against the door, before he spoke. “Present your pussy to me. Let me see your hot little cunt. Do it, Annabelle.”

She knew what he was asking. With a moan of excitement, she moved her feet back. Her breasts slid lower, nipples chafing where they pressed into the door. When she had a little distance to bend over, she arched her back, opening herself to him like a bitch in heat.

“Christ, yes, baby. You’re my fucking cunt, aren’t you? Your pussy’s begging for it. I can see you, all pink and wet for me. I’m going to give you just what you’re asking for.”

A good, hard fuck. Yes, that was what she wanted. She moaned again when she felt him, the big head of his cock pressing into her opening. She was tight for his size, and, like usual, he paused just there, just where she had to accommodate the greatest breadth of him, just where it felt like he’d stretch her more than she could take.

He waited through a couple ragged breaths, letting her adjust.

He loved that moment of tease, knew that it drove her to the edge. Loved that it made her beg. “Ro,” she whimpered. “I need you. Hurry.”

He put both hands on her hips then, gripping hard, and thrust in deep.

“Ah, fuck, Annie. You feel so good. So fucking tight. So hot and wet. I can’t hold back, baby.”

And he didn’t. He let go, huffing and groaning his pleasure, shoving into her, out, and in again. Thrusting so that he filled her, gripping her ass with one hand and sliding the other around to rub her clit.

With that, Annie didn’t care how he used her, how roughly he took her. She was there, right with him. She rocked back with each thrust, taking more of him, and forward as he withdrew, making the most of his fingers stimulating her clit. She urged him on, asking for more, telling him how much she loved what he was doing to her.

“Yeah, yeah,” he chanted, encouraging her. “Come, baby. I need you to hurry.”

She felt him tightening, heard the urgency of his breath. Luckily, she was keeping up. His fingers moved between her legs, and she rubbed frantically against him, then back for the maximum depth of his thrust.

They climaxed together, both of them spasming and crying out. He kept pumping into her, prolonging the orgasm, rubbing against her even as she started whimpering for respite.

Finally he halted, leaning into the door, supporting her with his arms wrapped around her. He slipped out of her, gently stroking her while their breathing eased.

When she had her legs back, she turned and slid her arms around him. After a while she lifted her head from his shoulder. “I’m going to go clean up and change clothes.”

“No,” he said. “I want you to stay dressed tonight. And I’ll clean you up—in my favorite way.”

Hmm. Well, she’d never object to that, cooperating again as he leaned her back against the door and went to his knees in front of her.

Annabelle closed her eyes, her body impossibly readying itself for more pleasure. “Why am I staying dressed?”

She started to lose her train of thought as Rowen hooked her skirt with his thumbs and slid it up her thighs, nails slightly abrading, just ahead of his tongue.

“I have a friend coming by, a guy I knew in college.”

“Mmm.” His words barely registered as he started to lick her pussy. It had come as a surprise to her, the way he loved to eat her, to taste her. But in a very short time she’d developed quite an appreciation. Now she kept herself shaved clean for him—not wanting anything to hinder his finding the way.

Annabelle shook her head, trying to hold the thought. “When is he coming?”

Rowen pressed harder, working his tongue between her thighs. “Open for me, baby. Let me have you.”

Thus encouraged, she opened her legs and slid down a little. Always ready to help, Ro put his hands under her thighs to support her while she tilted forward, offering herself up to his pleasure. And, God knew, hers.

“He’ll be here soon,” he said.

But it was lost on her as he went seriously about his business. He licked at her, wiping up the wet traces of their lovemaking. Every so often he dipped his tongue into her, a gratuitous but entirely welcome gesture. Then he began circling her clit, coming closer and closer. From experience, she knew he was waiting for that change in her breathing that signaled her eager impatience. He loved it when she got a little feisty.

Soon she gave little spontaneous jerks of her pelvis, wordless commands. Then she used words, swearing even. “Harder, Rowen. I need to come. Hurry, dammit.”

If she had time to think about it, she’d be sure he was grinning when he thrust his thumb into her pussy and took her clit into his mouth. Tonguing her, sucking her, he had her moaning incoherently, rocking into him harder and harder, when suddenly he stopped.

He gave her clit a good kiss and then stood up, fastening his pants and closing a couple buttons on his shirt.

She shook her head, ears still ringing in want of pleasure. “What?” she said. “What did you say?”

He smiled and reached to fasten her jacket, brushing her tender nipples with the silk lining. “I said, I guess now. I guess he’s coming now.”

Still half stunned, and all the way hot and bothered, she responded automatically as he took her arm and nudged her aside. Then he opened the door.

Kevin Orcutt was not one to get in the way of a brother having a little pussy. But it had been a long day. He’d traveled from Bumfuck, Iowa or Indiana or somewhere, settling his troupe into their off, but not off, off-Broadway theater, and then making the hike with three bags from Grand Central. He’d waited patiently through round one. He’d leaned beside the door, fondly recalling some of the mind-blowing group fucks he’d had with his pals Rowen and Braeden. Ah, for the good old days. He got a little hard just standing there.

But round two didn’t sound like it was going to end soon. And damned if he didn’t need to take a leak and then throw back a beer.

Rowen’s piece of ass was going to have to wait for him to finish her up later. He knew the type already—tall, skinny blonde with fake tits, wanting to claim a place as the latest fuck-buddy of Broadway’s hottest young actor. In Rowen’s life, they were a dime a dozen, and if she went away unhappy, well, at least she went away.

Besides, Ro should thank him for breaking it up while she was still pretending to like sex. By the sounds, she made a pretty good show of it. Maybe she really was an actress.

Anyway, Rowen had offered to share his place for whatever kind of run Kevin’s show managed. He didn’t care if he had to sleep on a couch—this close proximity to the Theatre District was worth gold.

To his mind, an old college pal in need of a bed trumped fuck-buddy pussy.

So he rearranged things to make himself presentable and knocked a couple times. Then a couple times more, having to compete with the moans coming from the other side of the door and the pounding it was taking in the name of hot sex.

Prepared to cool his heels, he was surprised at how quickly things went from midfuck to door open. And more surprised yet when he got a look at Rowen’s piece.

He might have been right about the tits, because damned if she didn’t have a pair. Though he had to say they looked real, not all that well hidden behind her tight little jacket with one important button left undone. But he was entirely wrong about the rest. She was a petite thing with fucking generous curves. She was no blonde, but had sleek dark hair that fell to her shoulders. She had a face that wasn’t glamorous by any means, but still very pretty—sweet and hometownish, rather than big-city sophisticated.

And despite the fact that she was clearly still in the throes of thwarted passion—he was pretty sure Ro had had his tongue inside her not two minutes before—she looked like she had a brain in her head. Her sexy little silk suit seemed to confirm it.

She blushed hotly as he took a good look at her. Just like she had not twenty minutes ago.

A stranger, she’d been walking just ahead of him as soon as he hit 46th. He’d slowed down to enjoy the view along the way—shapely ass that moved just right in that tight, slit skirt, extraordinary legs that rocked those classy high heels.

Kevin found himself very interested and gratified when she turned into Rowen’s building. He lost track of her then—she took the stairs while he talked himself past the doorman. On a whim, with a burst of energy he didn’t know he had, he left his luggage and tore up the stairs after her.

Just as he turned up to the third floor, he saw her. She was bending over, sliding her panties off. When she straightened and turned to slip them into her purse, she caught him looking. He raised a fascinated eyebrow, and she blushed furiously. Then, like she hadn’t even seen him, she proceeded up the stairs.

After she disappeared from sight, he shook himself, slowly coming to his senses. The hot little siren had clearly been preparing herself for someone else. But he had a hard dick that was wishing it had been for him. He’d have been more than happy to take those next ten steps to reach her. He’d have been sure to make her happy, too. Instead, a bit regretful, he went back to his luggage and a sensible elevator ride.

God, he loved New York.

He enjoyed the good long look now while she dealt with the blush. That little adjustment he’d made had to be made all over again.

Grasping again at sanity, Kevin moved his gaze to Ro.

His pal kept a hand at the woman’s waist but put the other out to clasp Kevin into a hug. “Kev,” he said. “It’s great to see you.”

Ro pulled him inside the apartment as though he was welcome, as though he hadn’t just been getting hard while ogling the man’s lay.

In fact, as they finished their greeting, Kevin considered Rowen’s expression. He was open and friendly and kept Kevin close with an arm slung over his shoulder. Making a cozy little threesome of them. With the scent of pussy in the air.

“Babe,” he said. “This is Kevin Orcutt. We were housemates in college. Kev, this is Annabelle Talbot. She’s my new housemate.”

Ouch. This was a real relationship. Not a just quick lay or ready cunt. Here was a novel development in his buddy’s life.

But what the hell? Ro had known he was in the building while she was still on the stairs, stripping out of her thong. The doorman had already called up. If “babe” was his woman, why was he fucking her against the door when he knew Kevin was about to be on the other side of it?

Lovely, hot Annabelle seemed to find her genteel manners. She gave Kevin a hand, her left, since her right was taken up by Rowen, and said hello. He took her hand and held it for a long minute, and then—what the fuck, this was New York—he leaned in to kiss her. Right on the lips. He sternly held himself back from giving her tongue. Just.

Then they all got busy doing host and guest things. They took his luggage to a whole goddamn fucking room with some serious square footage and its own bath then negotiated food and drink.

Annabelle about dropped a beer in his lap when, just as she was handing it over, Rowen told her he’d invited Kev to stay with them while his show ran. She recovered well, seconding the invitation with a smile, and went back to making dinner.

Kevin lifted his beer in response to Rowen’s. And if his gaze followed Annabelle everywhere she went, well, Rowen, idiot that he was, didn’t seem to mind.

* * * *

Annabelle spent the entire evening in an agitated state of arousal. The men chatted about Rowen’s show, Kevin’s show, and old times, while she opened Stellas for them and put dinner on the table. Rowen treated her as he always did, just as though they were alone. He touched her often, lingering at it, and kissed her, not being shy about tongue, either. He fondled her ass and squeezed her breast and wasn’t all that discreet about it. He even fingered her from behind when she brought dessert from the kitchen. She wasn’t entirely sure that the table kept that little bit of action from Kevin’s view.

Kevin, for his part, seemed to enjoy the show. Initially, he made a display of checking out the condo whenever Ro touched or kissed her. After a while he gave it up and just watched, intently, always having eye contact with her when she looked away from Ro. His eyes heated and nostrils flared when she had her hands full of dessert and a cunt full of finger.

He was handsome as sin, and dark like sin, too. His hair was nearly black, and his eyes, too. About an inch over Rowen’s six-foot height, he was slim through the hips and lean but his chest and arms were sleekly muscled. She’d seen as he’d slid out of his jacket.

While he watched, she almost completed that orgasm she’d been about to have as Ro opened the door to him. When Kevin had caught her on the stairs shamelessly shedding her panties, he looked like the sort that wanted to come up behind her, bend her over the rail, fuck her until he found his pleasure, and then walk away without uttering a word.

Annabelle hadn’t looked at another man since she’d met Ro, hadn’t had even the smallest fantasy that didn’t involve him. But if it had happened with Kevin like she imagined on the stairs, she might have whimpered as he left, wanting to cling and beg him not to go. He had a hard edge to him. He was a bit scary to her, but lord, he was hot.

And he was staying—likely, for weeks.

Rowen seemed to enjoy keeping her turned on while his friend watched. Embarrassed at the door, she’d started to fasten the last button of her jacket, but he’d stopped her with a stern look. If he’d wanted that button done up, apparently he’d have taken care of it himself. Kevin took advantage of the view whenever she moved. And Ro appeared entirely comfortable with it.

They talked until late, Annabelle sitting between the two men on the couch. The old friends enjoyed each other and had her laughing with them at college stories and witty, sometimes catty comments about those they knew in common from life in the theater. As the evening went on, she began to feel more and more like sexual prey.