“Yes,” he moaned. “Please.”
Benedict smiled again, so beautiful, and then he slid his mouth down Darrius’s neck, across his chest, over his stomach. He caught him in hand, hard again despite the recent release, and stroked him while he traced the line of his hip with his tongue. Darrius moaned harshly at the spiking pleasure through his cock. Doubled when Benedict covered him with his mouth and began to stroke all the way to the back of his throat.
Vanessa edged closer, studying the way Benedict’s mouth moved, the way his hand gripped. She threaded her fingers through Darrius’s clenching hand, but she kept watching. Smiling when Darrius couldn’t hold back the sounds that were the song of his pleasure.
Benedict brought him all the way to the edge of release, teasing him there, making him ache because he knew a few more strokes, sucks would take him over the edge. But instead Benedict drew back, his dark eyes glinting.
“I want to fuck you,” he whispered. “I want to take you.”
Darrius couldn’t control the full-body shiver at that idea. Of being claimed by this man in a manner that they couldn’t pretend away. He nodded, still pulled out to sea by the pleasure. Slowly he rolled over. He crooked his finger toward Vanessa, and when she came, he tugged her onto the bed. They shifted, moving together to find a place. She slid beneath him, opening her legs to him, never resisting when he aligned himself to her body.
He didn’t take her yet, though. No, not yet. He waited as Benedict moved around behind him, opening drawers, trying to find something to ease the way.
“There’s a small bottle of oil by my bed,” Darrius choked out as Vanessa leaned up and began to lick and suck his neck. He felt so sensitive that his cock throbbed in time to her touch.
Benedict gave a low chuckle as he found what he was looking for and returned. He positioned himself on his knees behind Darrius, settling his hands on his hips. “My God, but you are something,” he murmured. He leaned around Darrius’s shoulder and looked at Vanessa. “We’re going to take his control, Vanessa. We’re going to make him forget everything but us and this.”
“Yes,” she groaned. “Oh yes, yes, yes. I want to.”
She cupped Darrius’s cheeks and pulled him down to kiss her. As she did, Benedict began to work at Darrius’s arse with fingers slick with the warm oil. Darrius grunted, thrusting just the head of his cock into Vanessa’s clenching sheath as pleasure bombarded from both where he was taking and where he was being readied. He had never had this pleasure, avoided it except in his most heated dreams. But now that it was happening, it was heady and sweet and powerful.
Benedict moaned as he stretched Darrius’s arse, gentle as he worked him. And finally, Darrius felt the head of his cock there, pressing gently. Darrius pushed back a little, taking it further, loving the pleasure-pain mixture of the act. Benedict cried out and then he thrust harder, past resistance. When he did so, he forced Darrius forward and he, too, filled Vanessa to the hilt.
They lay there for a moment, Benedict buried in Darrius, Darrius buried in Vanessa. It was a flood of sensation rolling through Darrius’s body, so much pleasure that he wanted to spend right then and there. Benedict began to move and Vanessa lifted. Together they worked at Darrius, their hands moving over him, their bodies gripping and taking his in tandem. He moaned and cried out, throwing his head back as he rode the waves they created that were just for him. He was their center, required to give nothing but his pleasure.
And he did, rolling with the sensation, gripping Vanessa’s hips as he took her, reveling in the heat of Benedict’s breath on his shoulder. And then the nip of his teeth as he rode harder. Vanessa had begun to touch herself as they moved together, and he watched her face as she strained and arched beneath him, as wild with this as he was.
When she came, her pussy gripped him, powerful waves of pleasure that milked his own rising need. Benedict was wild behind him, grunting as he took and it was all too much. Darrius cried out and he poured into Vanessa’s body with a roar that matched Benedict’s as he did the same, pouring his release into Darrius.
They collapsed into a pile together, sweaty arms and legs, come streaked along their thighs, mouths finding each other as they came down from the most powerful high Darrius had ever experienced.
And he never wanted this dream to end.
Vanessa
After the powerful explosion of desire and passion that had happened in Darrius’s bed, Vanessa had readied herself for the consequences. And yet, none had come as of yet. They had separated eventually, each going to their own quarters to bathe and rest and ready for supper. And think about what had happened, she supposed.
Merritt hadn’t been wrong when she said watching two men together could be powerful. It had been one of the most glorious experiences of Vanessa’s life, to see Benedict and Darrius move as one. To feel their restrained passion finally come loose so they could give and take to and from each other with an abandon that felt animal and wild.
It was tempered now as they sat at the supper table together. Darrius was at the head, Benedict at one hand, she at the other. Rather like in the bed earlier when he had been the center of their focus.
And now he was…calm. Relaxed, even. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him this way before. But his normally unreadable expression was eased, he even smiled from time to time, almost always when it came to something Benedict said.
She leaned on her elbow and looked at him more closely, eliciting one of those swift smiles, herself. “And what is that look, Vanessa?” he asked.
“You are very different from Arthur,” she murmured.
He froze in the act of cutting his food and the ease vanished from his expression as his lips pursed. “I certainly hope so.”
She probably should have stopped pushing then. Stopped driving. But she didn’t want to. She wanted to know this man, really understand him. Benedict would let her in, she felt it, she knew it. Some part of her was already lost to it and to the comfort he provided by just smiling at her. But Darrius needed prodding. His regard had to be earned and driven.
“Why?” she asked. “How did you manage to be so separate a person from your brother?”
He set his fork down and stared at the plate. She shifted her gaze to Benedict, who had also set his cutlery down. He held her stare in encouragement for a moment, strength pulsing between them. It helped her when she wanted to take back her question.
“My…my father was reckless,” Darrius said at last. “He gambled and whored around. My mother was little better. Once she bore my father sons, she was off in the countryside, creating scandals he had to pay to hide. And my brother is, as you know better than anyone, equally imprudent. I saw all three of them destroy worlds with their irresponsibility. And I swore that I would be…better. Be in control.”
She glanced at Benedict. “You knew them for a long time. You saw this?”
