Free The Mammoth Book of Threesomes and Moresomes by Linda Alvarez Page B

ma’am, but you please yourself.”
    Austin found herself smiling. “I’m not aiming to have any mercy,” she said, and squeezed her passage on him. She could have sworn she felt the pulse of blood moving in his cock and throbbing against her inner walls. She bit her lip and rocked against him while he steadied her hips with his hands.
    DeVille reached between them and laid his warm hand over her mound. His thumb nudged between her folds. “You want a little extra?” he asked.
    “Yeah,” she said. “And—” Harcourt’s hands went to her breasts before she could ask.
    Her ride laster longer than she’d hoped. They were all weary, and even with DeVille’s skilled touch, her pleasure this time took longer to build, but it was worth it. Her crisis wracked her with spasms from feet to scalp. She cried out and, soon after, Harcourt followed, holding her tightly in his arms. When it was over, he pressed his mouth to her temple and held it there for a long moment. His fingers feathered down her back, and she blinked back tears, though she surely had nothing to cry about. She kissed his mouth softly and rested her forehead against his.
    All three of them lay spent for some time, until DeVille said, “That was some pumpkins.”
    Austin laughed. She didn’t want the night to end. She hesitated then decided to ask for what she wanted. When else would she have the chance? “I want you two to kiss. Because I ain’t seen it before, and I want to see it now.”
    Harcourt opened his mouth then closed it again. He didn’t look so dangerous with his eyes so wide and shocked.
    DeVille grinned. “Come on, Harcourt. Where’s your grit?”
    Austin touched his face. “You don’t mind so much, do you? I’ve just got a powerful curiosity.”
    “I noticed,” he said, dryly. “All right.” He gave DeVille a quick, sliding glance.
    DeVille said, “I never thought I’d see the day. They must be sledding in hell right now.”
    “Maybe I should change my mind,” Harcourt growled.
    “Don’t,” DeVille said. He slid a little closer on the blanket, eyes downcast. “Listen to me.”
    Harcourt’s brow wrinkled. “What’s all this solemnity?”
    “I don’t want to joke about this.” He looked up, and Austin’s breath caught at his steady gaze, though he wasn’t looking at her. “You know if you asked me, I’d do just about anything for you, don’t you?”
    “You don’t have to do anything for me. If you think that —”
    Austin put her hand on his arm. “Let him talk.”
    DeVille went on as if she hadn’t interrupted. “I didn’t say anything about having to. I only—Will you let me do this my way?”
    “You’re serious about this. You really want —Why?”
    “There’s a difference between us, Aaron. Not colour, or money, or bravery. You had a family, at least you did once. All I ever had was you. I’ve always wanted you to know that.” DeVille caught Harcourt’s face between his hands, dragged him close, and kissed him, open-mouthed.
    Even weary as she was, it was downright exciting, seeing others engaged in intimacy at such close range, and so emphatically. DeVille’s hand snarled in Harcourt’s hair almost immediately, as if afraid he would escape; but after Harcourt’s first instinctive flinch, she could see his shoulders relax as he let DeVille taste him. Then Harcourt’s hand lifted, and she’d never seen anything so tender in her life as when his big square hand fitted itself to DeVille’s cheek, his thumb stroking. A moment later, he leaned forwards, moving into the kiss, and DeVille made a tiny sound in his throat.
    Austin slid her hand down between her legs. Harcourt reached back, blindly, and grabbed her arm, pulling her towards them. He dragged his mouth away from DeVille’s, looking dazed, and kissed her hungrily. Then he turned back and kissed DeVille, who made a sound like a whimper, then Harcourt was tugging them both down to the blankets.
    The night wasn’t quite over