HUGE 3D: A MFMM MENAGE STEPBROTHER ROMANCE (HUGE SERIES Book 5) Page 20

  “Sure,” I say.

  “Wear something white.” His face has gone back to the impassive expression he seems to wear when sex is the topic of discussion.

  “Okay.”

  He leaves me at the bottom of the stairs and I ascend quickly, conscious that he’s still standing and watching me. In my room I strip, throwing all my clothes in the basket and getting into the shower immediately. I don’t want to think about this. I know if I do I’m going to shake and I don’t want him to know I’m not in control. I soap myself gently, feeling the heavy heat of arousal between my legs. My nipples are hard even under the warm stream of water.

  Sex seems like a distant memory. Something I used to do so regularly but that now feels like a completely new experience. I wonder what he’ll be like. The feel of him inside me, the smell of his skin. How will he touch me? More gently than Jackson or with more urgency?

  Will I enjoy it? Will he care about giving me pleasure or simply take it for himself?

  For a long time, it has seemed wrong for me to feel anything for another man. To take that step away from my husband and the life we had together. In a way I’ve been doing the same thing that Jackson did; putting off living my life until a later time that might never come.

  I could never have imagined that I’d take this particular step, but for whatever reason, Ryan has chosen me.

  Fate is a fickle bitch.

  There is a drawer full of white bras and panties; lace, silk and satin in different designs. I find a pretty set that look very innocent. The fact he’s chosen this color makes me think he wants me to look that way. There is a matching garter that I slip up my thigh. The panties are tiny and press against my tender flesh, making me squirm. When he touches me he’s going to find me wet and I don’t think I like that. My body knows what it wants and it’s going to tell Ryan that without me uttering a word.

  I draw on a silk robe so I can walk to his suite with some modesty.

  My throat feels desert-dry so I clear it quietly before knocking.

  “Come,” he says.

  My heart thuds so fast and hard I can feel it in my temples. I open the door slowly and find him sitting in the same chair. His hair is damp from the shower and he’s dressed a little less formally but still impeccably.

  I close the door gently and go to stand in the same place as I did last night, keeping my eyes lowered so I don’t have to see his response.

  “Take off the robe, Jessie,” he says with the same gravelly tone as last night. I don’t hesitate even though my heart is pounding. I tell myself that this is what he’s really paying me for. The driving and lunch were all just precursors. The silky fabric slides from my shoulders so fast that the coolness of the room sends goosebumps rushing over my arms. “You looks so fucking beautiful,” he says and the rawness of his compliment sends my heart skittering.

  I look up at him and there is arousal in his eyes. His hands rest on his thighs but the fingers tightly grip as though he’s trying to maintain some control. “What do you want?” I ask him softly.

  He shakes his head as though I’m asking a stupid question. I suppose I am really, but nothing about Ryan is straight forward. I wait for him to tell me but it seems the time for talking is over. He stands and takes me by the hand, leading me over to the bed and sitting me on the edge. He’s so tall now that I’m seated. In the low light it’s almost as though he’s looming over me. I look up, expecting him to be in control, but he seems to be shaking. It’s just his arm on the right side, the arm that’s closest to me. He looks down at it as though he’s confused about what’s happening, then he drops to his knees in front of me.

  “Are you wet?” he asks me.

  I nod. Is he asking because it turns him on or does he want to check if I’m into what’s happening? I wish I knew what was going on in his head.

  “Spread your legs, Jessie,” he orders and I do.

  I know he’s right handed but he uses his left to stroke up the side of my calf. His touch is soft, reverent almost. It feels so good that I want to moan. I want to push my leg against his hand in the same way a cat nuzzles up against the ankles of its owner. The kiss outside the restaurant is still making my lips tingle. I want him to do it again even though I know it’s only going to complicate this.

  “I want to touch you,” he says, his fingers skirting the edge of my panties along my thigh. It’s not a request so much as a statement of fact. Is he waiting for me to tell him it’s okay? My throat is so tight with arousal that I don’t think I can form the words. His lips graze my knee and my legs go slack. All I can think about is his mouth on my pussy; the roughness of his tongue grazing my clit and then pushing inside me until I cry out with pleasure. Is that what he wants to do?

  His dark gray eyes meet mine. He blinks and for a moment I must look like a rabbit in headlights. Somehow I find the ability to move my head and I nod. It’s a tiny movement but it’s enough for Ryan. His hand goes to my belly and he presses me down so that I’m laying back on the bed. My legs hang, the balls of my feet pressing against the floor for stability. I stare up at the ceiling.

  Waiting.

  Waiting.

  I can hear his breathing and feel his presence but he doesn’t touch me. It kills me to lay here expectantly. My mind rushes over the last time I felt a man’s tongue on my most intimate of places but I don’t want to go there. I want Ryan to get on with it. To drown out my internal thoughts with sensation that will make my toes curl and my mind quiet.

  The first touch is his hands on my knees. The right one is still trembling a little and my heart skitters over the fact he’s obviously as frantic about this as me. I feel warmth through the lace of my panties as his breath gusts over my pussy. I hear him inhale deeply and wonder how the scent of me is making him feel. Does it make his head swim with arousal like I imagine it would? I want to get close enough to him to know how it feels to breathe him in too. I want to taste the salt on his skin and absorb his warmth into my own body.

  I want to feel like a woman again, in the arms of a man strong enough and powerful enough to make me feel safe, and even though it will only be for a little while, I want to shed the feelings of loneliness that have settled into my heart for too long.

  Ryan hooks his fingers over the lace at the sides of my panties and eases them slowly down my legs. It’s sweet torture, every inch taking me nearer to the touch that I crave. He pushes against the insides of my thighs, opening my legs gently. I feel like a flower going from bud to bloom and I hold my breath, digging my fingers into the comforter so I feel more in control. I want to know how close he is to me but I can’t bring myself to look. I keep my eyes scrunched shut and listen to the thud, thud, thud of my heart in my ears.

  Then his tongue swipes over my clit and I can’t keep it in. I moan loudly and I don’t even care because he does it again and that’s what I want. I need him to keep doing exactly what he’s doing. I want him to make my legs shake and my hands tremble and my pussy clench so hard that I have to arch my back and cry out. I want to come so bad that I ache between my legs and in my heart.

  My pleasure used to belong to Jackson. Now Ryan is going to take it for his own.

  And he does. Oh god, he does.

  He tastes me like I’m the sweetest thing, long slow licks that have my toes curing and gentle sucks and make me roll my hips. I cover my face with my arms when he reaches up to find the softness of my breasts. He loses rhythm just for a second as he explores, then he’s back to driving me insane. Too many times he takes me to the edge of an orgasm and then pulls back. I start to sweat from the anticipation. I draw my legs up so that my heels rest on the edge of the bed and I can force my pussy harder against his mouth.

  “Please,” I gasp when I’m so close I can barely take anymore. “Please.”

  I feel his lips curl against my pussy. He likes me to beg him. It’s only then that I feel pressure at my entrance. Three nudging presses against my g spot and I’m flying. The noises I make don’t soun
d human. My heart thumps in three huge beats before it skitters fast like I’ve been running. I’m so wet I can feel it trickling between the cheeks of my ass, down onto his bedding beneath. I just don’t ever want this feeling to stop and it doesn’t. He presses his tongue against my swollen clit and it just keeps on going. I’m dazed. Writhing. Desperate to stay in this state of pure ecstasy, and scared too. I’m so helpless like this and he’s in control. He pushes his fingers deep inside me and presses upwards and I arch my back again as pleasure soars. “Oh,” I pant. I can’t form the words that flash into my head for a second and then disappear. ‘Don’t stop’, ‘stop’, ‘it’s too much’, ‘please’, ‘harder’. They are all there, waring against each other and making me so frantic that I find myself reaching down and curing my fingers into his soft hair. Ryan goes still for a second. Doesn’t he like me touching him? I don’t move, waiting for him to respond and he does by pressing his teeth against my clit.

  “Fuck,” I gasp as a short sharp burst of pleasure hits.

  Then he’s pulling away.

  I watch him walk away and disappears through a door. I stay where I am, frozen by my post-orgasmic trance, and confused because I don’t know what the hell he’s expecting of me. Minutes pass and feel ridiculous sprawled out of this bed wearing nothing from the waist down. I sit, looking over to the door, still expecting him to come back but he doesn’t. I find my panties on the floor and pull them up over my legs. My thighs are wet, my pussy swollen and I feel ravaged and bereft.

  Is that what he wanted? To turn me into a helpless and writhing thing and then leave me?

  Did he want to make me weak from pleasure, because that’s what he did. He stripped away my layer of self-protection and now I feel raw.

  My robe is still where I left it in a heap. I slip that on too and take one last look at the door. Should I call out for him?

  No.

  If he wanted to still be in my company, then he wouldn’t have left.

  I leave Ryan’s suite and head back to my own, knowing a little more about this stranger who wants to own a month of my life, but not understanding him at all.

  12

  RYAN

  My hands won’t stop shaking.

  My mouth still tastes of her and it’s making me feel lightheaded.

  I can’t go back out there like this. I don’t want to be this version of myself. I want to be the Ryan that she needs.

  Strong.

  Dominant.

  In control.

  I see how she responds when I take over. She wants to give in and let me be in charge, and it’s exactly what I need. To be myself. To exercise all of my innate tendencies that I’ve pushed down for so long. During my marriage because it wouldn’t have been what Corina needed, and after she died, because there was no room in my grief for anyone other than me.

  Jessie is everything. Not perfect in the eyes of the world but perfect for me.

  I clasp the edge of the basin to hold my hands steady and look at myself in the mirror. Tired eyes greet me, the mirror reflecting back exactly the way I feel right now. I haven’t had a good night sleep in months. The bed feels too big and my soul feels too empty. Days pass and I still feel completely disconnected from my own reality, but the more time I spend with Jessie, the more I feel myself coming back.

  Do you believe in fate? Or a higher power? Do you believe that you can need something so badly and that the world has potential to drop it into your lap at just the right moment? Or maybe destiny sends you to find it when you need it most. That’s how I feel about the girl I left on my bed. She’s like a gift that I didn’t ask for but that I’ve been given anyway. She’s a gift that I wasn’t expecting but I find that I need more than I really want to accept.

  I run the faucet and splash my face with water. The coolness brings me out of my thoughts. I left Jessie there without saying a word. Will she still be there if I go back into the room? Do I want her to be? I’m not sure. What will I say? What will I do? I was ready to give her what I knew she needed, but am I ready for her to do the same for me? For me to give her pleasure doesn’t feel like I’m taking advantage of her. Maybe that’s stupid. It’s her body and she’s decided she’s willing to sell it for the price I was willing to pay, but it still gnaws at my conscience. Just because it’s possible to buy something, doesn’t mean that it’s always right to take part in that transaction. I thought it would be easier. It’s not the first time I’ve paid for sex, but it is the first time I’ve bought it from someone who wasn’t already selling it.

  I’ve dragged Jessie into a world she wasn’t intending to enter with the lure of more money that she could never realistically turn down, and now I’ve done it…

  I dry my hands.

  Time to face the music. Time to stop worrying about things that I know wouldn’t cross the minds of most of my so called friends. They’re comfortable with wield their money like an axe at morality. The memories of where I came from are still too vivid, the choices my ma had to make too stark for me to be that way. Or at least, to feel bad about it.

  I open the door to the bathroom and see that the room is empty. She must have thought that I wanted her to leave.

  I guess it’s a good thing. I have work to do and at least this way I can avoid potentially having to explain myself.

  I call down to housekeeping to come and strip the bed and then to the kitchen to order some food for Jessie and me. At the very least I can make sure that her needs are met while she’s here. After, I make my way to my office, listening out in the corridor for Jessie. There’s no music tonight, just the rush of water. She’s showering. I guess she needs to. There was no doubt that she was turned on by what I did to her.

  In my office, I fire up my laptop and start the arduous process of trawling through my emails. There are reports I should be reading and things I need to respond to. People are waiting on me to make decisions, but somehow nothing feels that important anymore. I stare at the screen, my hands balanced on the edge of my large walnut desk, and itch to tell the Board of Directors what I’ve been putting off for the past few weeks. I need some time off. I’m exhausted. I’ve lost the drive and passion for the company I built from nothing.

  I’m worried about how the markets will respond to me no longer being at the helm. Confidence in a company can tip on news like this. I don’t want to do anything that’s going to put other people’s jobs at risk. The worst thing is that there isn’t really anyone on my Board who I feel is ready to take over from me, even for a short time. I can’t advertise the role and keep my predicament secret. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place but I have to do this. There’s no putting it off. There’s no pushing through.

  I go back and read this week’s financials. Sales and profits are at record levels and we’ve achieved that without any kind of drive for efficiencies. I know from experience that approach can strip a company of more than costs. The company is in the place I’ve always wanted it to be and now I have to let it go. I reply to a few emails, let my PA know that she needs to cancel everything in my schedule for the next week. I tell her that I have other commitments that I need to attend to. I tell her that she can contact me if there is an emergency but that I won’t always respond straight away.

  I start to draft an email to the board but decide to ask my PA to notify them of my whereabouts. It’s cleaner. Less chance that someone is going to pick up the phone to find out what is going on with me. I call the HR director and tell her what I need her to do.

  I hear Janet go knocking on Jessie’s door and their conversation. Jessie laughs and it’s a lovely light sound. I hope it’s because she likes the food that I’ve ordered for her, or maybe it’s the completely over the top way that food is served in this house; giant silver trays with plate covers, complete with a flower! I’ve even had grilled cheese arrive that way. It’s a far cry from the chipped thrift store plates of my childhood.

  When I hear the door close and Janet descend the stairs I head back to my room.
My own food is delivered soon after and I eat quickly. It isn’t late but I take a shower and decide to have an early night. The bed feels so big and so empty as I slide between the crisp white sheets. I lay on my back gazing at the ceiling, flexing my hands and stretching out my legs and hips. Everything feels different.

  It takes a while for me to relax but I must drift off because the next thing I know I’m jolting awake.

  “Ryan.”

  It’s Jessie. Her hand is on my shoulder.

  “Yeah,” I say. My voice is thick with sleep and confusion. What’s she doing in here?

  “Are you okay?”

  I turn to face her, finding her kneeling by the side of my bed. She looks so worried. “Yeah. What’s going on?”

  “You must have been having a nightmare,” she says softly. “You were calling out. I thought…”

  I can see that she’s worried about disturbing me. She must have waited outside the door debating whether to come inside. “It’s okay,” I say, the darkness of my dream flooding my mind. I couldn’t move. I remember now. I was sitting in my Chesterfield and I couldn’t move my arms and legs. I was screaming. “Thank you.”

  “Are you okay now?” she asks.

  There is such gentle concern in her voice. “I don’t know,” I say on impulse then regret it immediately. What am I expecting from her? What do I want?

  She reaches out and presses her hand against my forehead in the same way my ma used to when I was a boy. Her skin is cool and her touch tender and I close my eyes at the sensation.

  “Do you want me to stay with you?” she asks.

  God, the thought of her sliding into this big bed with me and wrapping her arms around me is too tempting. I know how good it would feel to surrender into the care of another human being. To offload all the feelings that are warring inside me for just a while. It’s selfish. This is too much.

  I know I shouldn’t say yes.