In a few minutes she had him ready. She slid him inside her and met his eyes as she took a few deep, hard strokes over him. “I want to make my masters happy. Whatever I have to do, as long as they love me and they don’t hurt me and they don’t share me with anyone else, and they don’t want anyone but me, I’m theirs.”
Both men moaned. Nevvie smiled.
Thomas placed a hand in the center of her back and gently pushed her down. “Ass in the air, girl. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
She looked over her shoulder. “Then my master better get what he wants.”
“Goddamn! You’re gonna make me come before I even fuck you.” He grabbed the bottle of lube and took his time. A little looser than before, she relaxed on Tyler’s chest while Thomas took a moment to massage her with his fingers, ensuring she was ready.
Ty spread her cheeks and whispered into her ear, “Get ready for your masters to fuck you again, sweetheart.”
She gyrated her hips against Tyler. Thomas waited until she settled and gently pressed the head of his cock into her. He didn’t want to hurt her, resisted the urge to push harder until he knew she was ready. But she surprised him, thrusting back and impaling herself.
He laughed. “Damn, girl.” He slowly seated his cock deep inside her, taking less time than Tyler now that she was more ready. The men found a slow, sultry rhythm.
She tried to help, finally looked down at Tyler. “Let me, Master. Please.”
He reached around and patted Tom on the hip. Tom seated himself inside her and then let her thrust against them. Both men moaned. Nevvie felt more than lust surge through her.
She felt power.
She fucked them, slowly at first as she got used to Thomas’ larger cock inside her. Then as she got more comfortable she picked up the pace and felt a deep burning in her belly. She might not come, but she’d damn well make sure her boys did.
Both men closed their eyes, making noises she’d never heard either make before. It energized her, and she increased the tempo and force, adding an extra little push at the bottom of each stroke, feeling both men deep inside her.
Then Tyler reached up and rolled her nipples in his fingers while Thomas found her clit. Not expecting it, she exploded, like a supernova ripping her apart from the inside out. She screamed, “Yes! Fuck yes! I’m coming for my masters.”
The men groaned, thrusting, climaxing with her.
The three collapsed to the bed, both men still inside her, and as their gentle twitching and throbbing finally settled she smiled and closed her eyes, happy.
The men took her into the shower, and all three sat under the spray, holding each other without speaking, nuzzling each other and enjoying the feel of skin on skin. Then the men washed her and each other, not letting her do anything. Tyler changed the sheets while Thomas carried her to their bed and gently laid her in the center. They cradled her between them, falling asleep, sated, satisfied.
Chapter 32
“Time?”
“Jesus, Tyler,” Thomas yelled. “Would you please lay the fuck off?”
“Well I’m a little anxious,” he yelled from the bathroom.
“No, it’s not freaking time yet. I’ll tell you.” He winked at Nevvie.
Nevvie sat on the counter and watched him, returning his smile. If the boys were like this now, she could only imagine…
As ever, Thomas was laid back and rolling with it. Tyler tried to plan it to the nth degree.
The past four years had been breathtaking. She’d let them push her to mental and physical limits she never dreamed. Professionally, getting her college degree, and sexually, always with the understanding they would never betray, hurt, embarrass, or share her with others.
Like wearing nothing under her graduation robe when she walked across the stage to accept her diploma, then fucking them in the backseat of the Ridgeline in the parking lot immediately after. The book signing tour in London that, unfortunately, Thomas couldn’t make, and Tyler fucked her from one end of the British Isles to the other. Then the architecture conference in New York, alone with Thomas, where he took her late one night on the top of the EmpireStateBuilding while Tyler talked on the phone with her, whispering in her ear for her to come for him.
Under their love and attention she thrived, bloomed, and the more she submitted to them the freer she felt. She was their life, love, and work partner in every way. Most of the time they didn’t engage in the slave play, either making tender love or simply curling up together and falling asleep. If she wasn’t in the mood, which happened rarely, she was happy to watch the men at play, frequently helping out, loving how aggressively tender they were with each other.
Thomas patted her leg. “This’ll be okay, sugar.”
She nodded, spreading her legs so he could lean against the counter and put his arms around her waist. She hooked her legs around his back and leaned on his chest, closing her eyes and enjoying the feel of his hands on her through her shirt. He was her solid rock, real and earthy, her plain folk man who could soothe her out of a nightmare with his soft drawl. Not that she had many bad dreams anymore.
Thomas glanced at the kitchen timer. “Time,” he yelled to Tyler. Then he looked at her. “It doesn’t matter. Okay? No matter what, it’s what should happen.”
Tyler appeared in the hall, his face a mask, which wasn’t like him. He was the yin to Thomas’ yang, his quick wit and deep intellect and sensitivity always able to soothe her from the worst of moods or steady her with the perfect word and tender touch when she felt like the world had gone crazy around her.
If Thomas physically anchored her, Tyler grounded her soul. She could sense his moods, able to calm him after a scathing review or settle his mind when he suffered from writers block. Then she could go out to the garage with Thomas and help him work on the 1967 Mustang they’d bought her last Christmas, completely comfortable using her hands and enjoying an easy working rapport with him in a way she didn’t share with Tyler.
She felt like the luckiest woman in the world, with two men who complemented her the way she complemented them. She didn’t take it for granted. To lose either would create a gaping, devastating void in her soul she didn’t want to contemplate.
Tyler walked over to the counter and Thomas stepped to the side so they could form their triad, usually with Thomas on her left and Tyler on her right, each with an arm around her waist, and the other around each other. They leaned forward, heads touching. Nevvie finally broke the silence.
“Well?”
“What do you want it to be?” Tyler’s voice was unreadable.
She shrugged. “I don’t know.” She didn’t. She loved having these two beautiful men to herself, able to run around naked all day if she wanted or if they asked it of her, to jump on a plane and take off to a conference or book signing or romantic weekend getaway. But she’d been so sure of what she wanted, and now she wasn’t.
And of course, Tyler had sensed her conflicted emotions.
Not that she’d ever admitted her most secret fear, that if their delicate, stable balance was tipped, her attention pulled too much from either, would one or both leave? She was the fulcrum on which their relationship now balanced.
“Tyler, please.”
He kissed her forehead. “You’re not. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s negative, love.”
How crazy was it that she broke down, wishing she was pregnant? They’d already decided as a family to let nature take its course and choose not to find out which man was the father.