Blood Rose (31 page)

She’d created a disaster. She must convince them to share a love between three, yet both Drake and Jonathon were furious to discover she had made love with them both. A polite veneer covered their anger, but she felt it simmering. Both were so skilled at control, they could posture like this—

but at some point they would explode.

Just as in her dream, she had no idea what to say.

Drake leaned forward and kissed her, cupping her breast as he did. His tongue slid into her mouth, and he kissed with fierce possessiveness. At his flagrantly intimate gesture, her face flamed with embarrassment. Drake was determined to anger Jonathon. And she was at fault.

They had once been partners, they had once protected each other—surely they must care for each other. It was her destiny to bring them together, but she had no idea how to begin.

Drake straightened. His silvery gaze held hers. “Vampire or mortal?” he asked. “Or should the one who pleasures you best be the one to claim you?”

Dark and enigmatic, Jonathon’s eyes flashed as Drake’s hands slid down to her nether curls.

Serena caught Drake’s hands, drew them away. But she gasped as Jonathon calmly tossed aside the stake and pulled her back. Neither man would back down.

“I don’t wish to choose.” Her voice was a mere whisper, almost drowned by the crackle of the fire. “I want you both.”

In front of her, Drake stilled, and she held her breath for dizzying heartbeats. She glanced to Jonathon—his jaw dropped open. Through the heat flaring across her skin, the intense ache at her nipples and her quim, she knew what she’d done. She had shocked them.

Drake spoke first, his voice husky and filled with the uncertainty that spoke to her heart. “Do you understand what you are inviting us to do?”

“I—I think so.”

Jonathon frowned at her stutter of uncertainty.

Drake cupped her bottom and squeezed. Hot, wet juice pooled between her legs. “Tell me,” he urged. “Tell us.”

As a governess, as a secretary, she’d hidden in the shadows. As the woman standing between two seductive, aroused men, she was the center of attention. Was she truly ready for this?

Jonathon crossed his arms in front of his huge chest. His cock was half-erect, yet still astonishingly large, and it bobbed at Drake’s words.

“Althea told me…” She stopped and began again. “I’ve dreamed of the two of you. Very naughty dreams…” Bother it. She would have to be blunt. She’d faced down vampires, why was Blood Rose ©Sharon Page 2007 Email: [email protected] 130

she so unnerved by sex—by an act of joining, and love, and sharing?

Because she feared she’d hurt them both.

“I had erotic dreams where I made love to you both. Althea told me that the dreams are premonitions. That she and her husband and Mr. de Wynter live in a ménage. That we are destined to have one too, and that will give us the power to defeat Lukos.”

Drake moved close and caressed her cheek—this time Jonathon did not pull her back. Too shocked? Something bumped against her tummy—Drake’s cock, leaving a sticky trail against her skin. Drake reached for her quim once more.

Sharp lines etched around Jonathon’s mouth as he watched, as Drake’s fingers opened her slick lips wide. It was so unbearably erotic to be touched and watched.

Swallowing hard, Serena reached out and stroked the firm ridge of Jonathon’s hip, while wriggling against Drake’s hard cock.

Drake slid two fingers inside, and her legs almost collapsed at the pleasure, at the way Jonathon’s brows shot up at the slick sound. Drake must know she’d made love to Jonathon—but that must happen when they shared her.

Both men would go inside her. Their passion would be shared in every way…

Her legs almost dissolved beneath her, like spun sugar against her wet tongue.

Drake pressed the length of his cock against her quim as his fingers toyed there and sensation swamped her. He kissed her cheek. This must be a dream—but she pinched her thigh, where her hand rested, and the jolt of pain proved it was all so very real.

“I’m game,” Drake groaned. “What about you, Sommersby?”

Jonathon strode forward, aware of his cock bouncing against his belly, heavy as lead again and insistent as hell. He could not do this. Premonitions could be damned. Shared love? Not even to destroy Hell itself could he share Serena.

Not with bloody Drake Swift—a man who could too easily steal her heart away.

Roughly, Jonathon jerked Swift’s hands away from her cunny, releasing the scent that made his head swim, his cock pulse, his heart pound. White-hot arousal raced in his veins. He had to claim her, love her, make her come and want him and desire him. Only him.

Somehow he would stop her becoming a vampire. Somehow he could keep her.

“I want you for my own, Serena.” He drew her away from Swift and kissed her, determined to recapture the magic of their intimacy. His mouth closed on hers and Serena shut her eyes, threaded her fingers in his hair and held him. She pressed her body to his, breasts to his chest, belly to his groin, and her hot skin surrounded his cock.

He kissed hard, his mouth coaxing hers open, and he kissed hungrily, as though he could touch her soul with his tongue and claim it for his own.

Swift touched his shoulder, and he flinched in fury.
Sommersby, she wants both of us to suck
her nipples, both of us to lick her cunny and her arse. She wants both of us to worship her, both of
us to fill her with our cocks. She will not be satisfied with only one.

Jonathon pulled back from the kiss. How in Hades could he hear Swift’s voice in his head?

Because Swift was a bloody vampire, with the power to touch a person’s mind, to coerce, to
coax,
to seduce.

Brilliantly silver in the moonlight, Serena’s eyes shone at him.
Please, Jonathon. Can we try?

We are destined for this.

His heart thundered at the sound of her voice in his head. She too could speak in that most intimate way—shared thoughts. Could she hear him?
I can’t believe I am destined to share you.

Hell, I believe I am destined to save you.

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I love you, Jonathon. I’m so confused by loving both of you so powerfully. I’m almost afraid to
try this…but I have to. It’s the only way I can survive…

He could not believe they had spoken that way. And she sounded so vulnerable. So afraid.

Jonathon scooped Serena in his arms again to carry her to his bed. Huskily, he vowed, “I’ll try.

For you, I’ll try.”

He fell back on the bed, the mattress squeaked a loud protest, and Serena sprawled on top of him. Shimmering like black silk, her hair spilled over his chest.

Jonathon cradled her full rump. He kissed her mouth—tasting wine and sweetness—and he groaned. “If you really want this, Serena, if this is what you wish, I’ll try anything you desire. But I want you to straddle my face.”

She rose up, holding her curtain of raven hair back with one hand. Like a demure, blushing maiden, she shyly moved over him. He gripped her satiny thighs and pulled her dripping quim to his mouth. She tasted lush, salty, ripe—the intimate blend of them both—and he buried his face between her thighs and savored.

He knew no fancy tricks, he just loved the taste, the wetness, and the way Serena was moaning and squealing as he indulged. A lick of her clit, sweet and hard against his tongue, sent her thrashing against him. Her cries were ones of delight.

“Apparently she likes what you’re doing.”

Jonathon heard Swift’s deep voice over Serena’s gasps and cries. Heard the begrudging admiration in it. Yes, he damn well knew how to please the woman he craved. He brushed his teeth lightly over her clit, slid his tongue into her passage, delving into hot cream.

“Make love to him, Serena. Sit down on his cock.”

Swift again, giving bloody directions. But Jonathon couldn’t protest, not with Serena on his face. And as she lifted up and scrambled down along his body and he saw the agony in her eyes and heard her harsh panting, he knew he wanted this.

“Are you not too exhausted?” he asked.

“I want to make love to you both all night,” she breathed, her words both wanton and sweet.

He had to remember this wasn’t a contest between him and Swift. This was about Serena.

He gritted his teeth again as she held his cock upright. God, the tight feel of her gripping his cock once more—

“Do you like his large cock?” Swift murmured at her side, sounding like Lucifer.

She nodded, biting her lip. “I like you both.”

“And you are so very skilled at dealing with naughty boys.” Swift laughed.

Jonathon drew her down, kissed her, so she could no longer banter with his partner. But she drew back after devouring him with enthusiasm, looking as though he’d seduced her very breath away. Pride swelled, along with his cock.

She lowered herself on his shaft once more…

Serena braced her hands on Jonathon’s broad chest as she worked, worked slowly, to take his cock inside. She bit her lip as it cleaved its way in. It was a beautiful beast—with a thick shaft, almost as thick as her wrist, and beautifully dusky brown. The head was velvet strained to the limit, and a drop of his fluid sparkled on the tip. The size of his balls startled her the most. A lush black nest surrounded his huge cock and ballocks, erotically masculine.

She giggled. Each cock reflected its owner. Jonathon’s was handsome, large and broad, straight and dark; Drake’s devilishly beautiful, long and golden, leaning rakishly to the side.

Jonathon’s cock pressed against her womb. “Oh heavens.” She had to stop, and she still hadn’t taken him all the way inside. Both times he had slid inside her, he’d controlled the depth, and she realized that he hadn’t buried himself completely in her.

Jonathon mouth was a tense slash, his eyes filled with concern. “Are you all right, love?”

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She feared he’d try to rescue her by lifting her off. “Yes,” she managed on a throaty moan.

And she moved up and down, not caring about the rhythm, just wanting to make him slick, to make her wetter, to try to take him in…

Closing over her breasts, his hands supported her and he smiled at her, a lopsided loving grin that sent Serena’s heart in a plunging spiral in her chest. She didn’t dare close her eyes and spoil the moment. So, bravely, she held Jonathon’s gaze and rose up. She moaned at the exact moment he did and shared his awed smile.

Oh, how she loved this. She couldn’t resist…performing to entice Drake. She loved the thump of her bottom against Jonathon’s groin. The teasing jiggle of her arse cheeks as they struck and the oh-so-harsh but wonderful pounding of her pelvis. Her breasts bounced madly. Perspiration beaded on her upper chest, ran down her nipples. Sensual sweat coated Jonathon’s sculpted pectoral muscles, his beautifully ridged stomach, his forehead.

Yes, she was destined for this.

“Ride him.” Drake was behind her. He lifted her hair, trailed his fingers over her shoulder. “I do like to see the agonized look on his face as you fuck him.”

“He’s…he’s beautiful,” she agreed, and she saw astonishment and pleasure in Jonathon’s eyes.

Did this mean Drake and Jonathon were connecting? Althea spoke of building magic—was this how? It felt like magic.

“You like fucking him, don’t you. How many times did he make love to you tonight?”

“None of your business,” Jonathon grunted, but the question inflamed her even as it shocked her.

“Many, many times,” she breathed. She rode faster, gasping desperately for air. She pounded too hard, and screamed.

Jonathon squeezed her breasts gently. “Easy, sweeting, I’m big enough to hurt you.” His hands grasped her hips, lifting her up slowly, lowering her gently, and she marveled at his strength.

She had hurt herself but didn’t care. She loved that taste of pain sweetened by pleasure.

Jonathon released her hips and she rode him fast. And hard.

Her clit demanded attention. She ground it against his groin with every stroke. She was climbing to the peak and she wanted to race toward it—

“Slow down,” Drake urged. And then he began worshipping her bottom. With fingers, with just a little penetration, but heavenly. Then his tongue slid in, twirling around her tingling rim. She looked behind her, stunned by the sight of Drake’s lean, powerful body sprawled over Jonathon’s legs as he licked her bottom.

Drake rose up, looked deeply into her eyes. “What do you want now? You have the power to ask us to do whatever you want.” But she knew he didn’t truly mean that—he wanted to tempt her to ask for what he wanted. His finger slid into her wet puckered hole, but the pressure of Jonathon’s cock fought his entrance.

“Gently…” Oh God—the richness of his voice wrapped around her and his finger thrust in…

Pressure. So much pressure. She whimpered, suddenly on the brink of “no”. No, she was too afraid. No, she just wasn’t able to—

Then pain vanished and pleasure flooded. She turned again and saw Drake’s hand hidden between the ivory globes of her arse. “Two fingers, now,” he murmured. “Now, my cock.”

“No,” Jonathon warned. “She’s innocent, still, not yet ready—”

“She wants us both. Two cocks to give her unspeakable delight. Two cocks to fill her to the brim. Give the lady what she desires—”

“Bastard,” Jonathon snapped to Swift, but he didn’t stop thrusting into her.

“Gentlemen!” She wanted to feel the glorious, shocking sensation of their hands and mouths on her, their cocks in her, not mediate.

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“We will behave,” Drake promised. “But I want to be inside you, my special one.”

My special one.

All she’d wanted was to be an ordinary young lady. But ordinary young ladies didn’t agree to such scandalous proposals, didn’t want two men making love to her so much it hurt. Serena did as Drake bid, leaning forward until her nipples touched Jonathon’s chest. Drake’s fingers thrust deeply into her bottom. Oh lord, the fullness…