[Ménage Amour: Erotic Ménage a Quatre Romance, M/F/M/M, voyeurism, sex toys, HEA]
Wearing nothing but a smile and his best friend’s shirt, Caroline Freeman is the last person Matthew Churchill expects to find in his kitchen on a Saturday morning. She was fifteen last he saw her, a sweet, unforgettable summertime crush.
Hell, if he’d known that lovely Caroline was the woman Jackson Roberts has been wooing, Jack would never have gotten her to his bed last night.
Jack and Matt are as close as brothers. For five years, they’ve shared a house and the trials of grad school. When they both want the same woman, Jack suggests they continue sharing.
Professor Daniel Ryan isn’t blind to the heat in their relationship. He wants to be a part of it and suspects Caro wants it, too, despite her denials.
The day after Matt and Jack graduate, Daniel has what he wants. He’s got them in his home, and a ring—three bands united by one whopping big stone—on Caroline’s finger.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Matt stood as soon as the door opened, silently cussing that he’d been distracted by the game. If he’d heard them coming, he’d have been out of sight before now. As it was, he was stuck.
Stuck watching his best friend escort into the house the woman he wanted. The woman he longed for, as if that wasn’t entirely lame. As their eyes met, Jack nodded. Then he put his hand on Caroline’s shoulder and pulled her close.
Which was a marginal improvement, given that Matt was pretty sure that hand had been on her ass up until then.
He nodded back to Jack then looked at Caroline. She’d dressed up, and she was so fucking beautiful his eyes hurt.
He turned away. He switched off the TV and grabbed his empty beer bottle to toss. “Good night, then.” Without looking at them again, he walked toward his room.
“Matt, wait. Stay.”
He stopped at the hall, looking back over his shoulder.
Jack was looking at him but unbuttoning Caro’s coat, a flirty little swingy thing that showed a lot of leg. Her dress wasn’t even visible underneath it, so he guessed it must be wicked short.
And then it was visible, what there was of it. Jack had the coat off, and she stood there in her high heels and her very hot, very little dress. All inviting and unbelievably fuckable.
His inclination was to give Jack the finger and walk away.
But Jackson looked at him, and Matt knew he wanted him to stay. “She looks beautiful, doesn’t she?”
“You know what I’d like to see, Matt?”
“What?” He ground out the word. “What would you like to see?” You fucking idiot.
“I’d like to see how she looks with your tongue down her throat and your hands on her tits.”
Shit. His cock stirred, and there was no way his soft sweats would hide it. Fuck it, he thought, and turned around to face them. It wasn’t like anyone there didn’t already know he had a hard-on for her.
Caroline had started protesting. Jack shushed her and held her back close against his body when she tried to push away. He had his hands around her middle and his jaw pressed against her temple, keeping her head turned to face Matt.
“What the hell are you doing, Jack?”
“I know you want her.”
Caro hissed out Jack’s name and struggled against him. But Jack tightened his grip. He slid one hand up, nearly cupping her breast, and the other down, low on her belly. She gripped his forearms and whimpered out a little moan.
Matt walked closer, until he stood in front of Caro. She leaned back into Jack but kept her gaze on Matt. Her eyes were a bit wild, though he had to wonder if there wasn’t a little naked excitement in them.
“I do.” He lingered, looking at Caro, then raised his gaze to Jack’s. “Are you giving her up?”
Jack shook his head. “No.”
“You want her to choose, then?”
“No,” Jack said again. He kissed Caro’s hair, and Matt was sure there was love in the motion. “I mean, if she did. If you did, sweetheart.” He spoke to Caro. “If you wanted just one of us, you could decide that. Now, or at some point in the future.”
He moved his hand right over her breast, and Matt had to stifle the urge to punch him. He spoke into Caro’s ear, soft but unwavering. “But what I really want is for you to let us both love you, Caro.”
She arched against him, moaning. “Jack, no.”
“I think it’s already true, baby. I think we both love you.”
Jack laid her on the bed, facedown, with pillows propping her pelvis up.
It was a position she already knew he favored, one that emphasized his control, demonstrated his dominance.
For Caroline, it seemed to suit the moment.
He wanted to dominate? Yes.
He wanted to demonstrate his control? Yes to that, too.
She felt guilty, felt a certain amount of punishment might be due.
She wouldn’t stop him from anything he wanted to do to her. She wanted Jack, and only him. Her thoughts of Matt were an aberration. She counted on Jack’s overpowering lovemaking to drive them out of her head.
He laid her there, positioning her body to his satisfaction, and then left her, all vulnerable and exposed.
She heard him move about the room. She knew he opened a drawer, then another.
He came back to the bed, kneeling between her legs.
He stayed there a long moment, still and silent, adding to the tension she felt, toying with her. Dom Jack.
She huffed a ragged breath out then shuddered suddenly in reflex at his next action.
He’d squirted something cold, wet—lubrication, she realized—right into her ass.
She couldn’t help another shudder. “Jack.”
“Shh,” he said. He touched her there, with a finger, circling. “You’re mine, aren’t you?”
He dipped in just a little, and she whimpered.
“Then take it. Whatever I do to you next, I want you to just fucking take it.”
Maybe this was more than she could do. But it felt—good, and right—what he was doing to her there. It was a little naughty and, well, deserved.
He circled that finger around, just the tip of it, just inside, making her groan. “Do you want me to stop?”
Should she? Probably. Did she? She took a little more of that action, that gentle reaming. Then gave him an honest, if startling, answer. “No.”
“Good girl. So don’t bitch. Relax and it will go easier for you.”
She hummed out a little anxious moan as he pushed a bit further. But she took his advice. She let her body go soft, gave over to the sensations. He went deeper. She thought she had the whole length of his finger in her now. He reamed it around, stretching her sphincter, making her moan again and squirm a little, excited against her will.
Abruptly he took his finger out. Then he replaced it with something cooler. Harder. Bigger.
He shoved it in.
She knew it was a butt plug. She’d never seen one, but she read—like everyone, she knew what one was now.
He hadn’t been gentle when he’d thrust it in. She’d cried out in protest, but she remembered what she’d agreed to. She took it.
But she couldn’t keep from arching away, a sort of instinctive effort to escape, and her breath was all rough, uneasy panting.
He put his hands on her hips, controlling her. Before she’d steadied, before her breath had calmed, he put the head of his cock right at her opening. He pushed in just enough, just so she was stretched by his maximum girth.
He held her there, one hand gripping her ass, as she started moaning.
The stimulation was exquisite—his big cock distending her, and that naughty, thrilling sensation from the butt plug.
He slid his other hand around her and took her clit between his thumb and fingers.
Holding on, he slowly shoved into her, making her feel every inch, blazing the way with that big head of his cock.
He pushed in and then held there, starting a steady rhythm of milking her clit.
“Caro,” he said, quiet.
She wasn’t sure she’d heard it. Her own moans were vocal, and her ears were all but ringing.
“Caro,” he said louder and emphasized it with a hard thrust.
“What?” she said, barely able to gather her wits. “What?”
He thrust again and pinched her, harder. His movement into her jostled the butt plug, stimulating her ass. “Were you thinking of him?” He thrust again, deep. “Were you thinking of Matt?”
His stimulation to her clit was constant now, pinching then stroking. She couldn’t process his words. “What? No.”
He slammed into her. “Don’t lie to me. Did you imagine him walking in on us, seeing us? Watching you come?”
Caroline groaned, lost to the devastation he inflicted on her body. How could he know that?
“Did you kiss him last night? Did you let him touch you?”
He was thrusting, hard, deeply, each stroke a complete taking. “Tell me. Tell me!”
She cried out, almost screaming, overwrought by this wicked torment. “Yes!”
“What?” he grunted out. He fell over her, his weight descending upon her, his voice right at her ear. “What part of it?”
“All of it,” she cried. “I thought of him while you made me come. He kissed me. I let him touch me!”
He growled, clutching all around her, thrusting wildly.