BlowingitOff (8 page)

Neither answered her. Damon’s gaze pinned
her to the spot, his hands slowly working at the button of his fly. She
swallowed, the sight both terrifying and exciting. She had no trouble
remembering what Damon Hunt looked like under the jeans and polo shirts he
favored
. No trouble at all. Gorgeous, sexy and way too virile.

She jerked her attention to Will
and
bit back a whimper. Will was already naked, his tall, lean body
making her mouth water. He was corded steel and latent strength. Before she
could stop herself she was looking at his cock, the organ a thick rod of sexual
perfection. Beads of pre-come anointed its tip and she ran her tongue over her
bottom lip. Damn it, she wanted to…

Her pussy tingled. Her nipples grew hard.
She hitched in a breath and pressed her thighs together.

Damon hissed in a breath. “I saw that,
Masters. You want
us
as much as we want you.”

She closed her eyes and drove her nails
into her palms, fighting for the strength to tell him to bugger off.

And felt a warm, hard body press up against
hers. A gentle contact that sent her pulse racing. “You
will
say yes,
Masters,” Damon whispered in her ear, his lips soft on her skin.

“You’ll say
forever
,” Will murmured
in her other ear, before strong arms slid under her legs and around her back
and lifted her from the floor.

A trembling cry escaped her parted lips.
She opened her eyes to find Will cradling her close to his naked chest.
“Forever,” he repeated.

She began to shake her head, a feeble
attempt to be sure, but stopped when he threw her on the bed. Just like that.

He swiftly covered her body with his,
sliding up her length until his cock nudged at her folds. His mouth took hers,
hard and fast, as if he were worried she was going to protest again. His tongue
plunged past her lips, mating with hers with fierce hunger. His right hand
raked up her rib cage, fondling her breast. She arched beneath him, wrapping a
leg around his thigh and pushing her pussy against his insistent cock.

“I want some of that, Tiny.”

Phoebe’s head swam at the hoarse urgency in
Damon’s voice. She felt the mattress shift and then he was stretched out beside
her, his long body, now devoid of clothes, a warm pressure on her side. Will
lifted his head and Damon turned her face to his, claiming her lips in a kiss
just as savage as Will’s.

She whimpered into his mouth, her sex
throbbing, her clit a prickling nub of impatient heat.

As Damon worshipped her mouth, Will worked
his way down her body, his lips searing a path over her throat, her
collarbones, her breasts. He lingered at each, sucking licking, biting, until
she squirmed and writhed and drove her nails into the knotted muscles of his
shoulders. She wanted to cry out, to beg him to stop, to go lower,
lower
damn it
, but Damon’s lips owned hers and all she could do was moan and
scratch at Will’s shoulders.

“Gonna eat you out now, Pheebs,” Will said
against her belly, his hands slipping between her legs to spread them wider.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it? I remember how much you love being fucked by
our mouths.”

She moaned again, the swirl of tension
building in the pit of her belly growing denser at his word. Was that what she
wanted?

Yes, that’s what she wanted.

Damon sucked her tongue, his hand squeezing
her breast. He pinched her nipple and she bucked, the action pushing her mons
to Will’s lowering head.

“Jesus, you smell like sin,” Will’s voice
was breathless, “and you’re so wet.”

He touched a finger to her clit and she
bucked again. Then he swiped at her folds with his tongue.

A shudder racked her. Instant and powerful.

“Smell like sin, taste like heaven,” Will
said, the words muffled by her pussy. He stabbed his tongue inside her,
dragging its tip from her perineum to her clit.

Oh God oh God.

She drove her heels into the bed, shoving
her hips upward.

Finally Damon broke his searing possession
of her lips. He dragged his mouth down her throat to capture one nipple, biting
its puckered point with ungentle force. Pain speared into her core, so sweet
and exquisite she cried out. “Again,” she begged. “Again.”

He did as she begged, his teeth closing on
her nipple at the exact moment Will’s teeth caught her clit.

Another shudder rocked her, far more
powerful than the first. Far deeper and more carnal.

She was close. So close.

The two men continued to worship her body.
Will lapped and sucked at her folds, tormented her clit, teased it with his
tongue. Damon did the same to her breasts, first one then the other. She gasped
and grabbed at the duvet, eyes rolling back, head tossing from side to side.
Just when she thought she could take no more, that with one more swipe of
Will’s tongue or one more nip of Damon’s teeth she’d shatter, both men rose
from her.

“No,” she protested, straining for them,
reaching for them. “No, please, I want—”

“Shush, Masters.”

Damon’s chuckled rebuke had barely
registered in her pleasure-fogged brain before Will rolled onto his back,
taking her with him until she lay atop his length.

Her heart beat faster. And faster still
when Damon moved behind her, his hands stroking over her arse cheeks. “Fuck me,
you really
are
wet, aren’t you?”

He slid one finger into her slit, wriggled it deeper.

“Oh Lord,” she choked out, pushing her backside into Damon’s
hands.

Will nuzzled at the base of her throat, his cock pressing at
her clit. “Do you have lube, Pheebs?”

Her heart didn’t beat faster—it jumped into hyper-drive.
They were going to…both of them… She nodded, incapable of finding her voice. It
was somewhere, lost in the constricting tension welling through her.

With a mindless wave of her arm, she indicated the squat
chest of drawers beside the bed.

The bed dipped and bounced as Damon climbed off it, only to
dip again when he returned seconds later. She heard him chuckle. “Ice Lube. Not
a fucking hope in hell it’s going to cool
this
fire.”

Will laughed, his smiling eyes holding Phoebe’s gaze. “Funny
bugger, isn’t he.”

She couldn’t answer, her voice still MIA.

A slight frown pulled at his forehead. “Are you…do you…”

He didn’t finish, and it was the sudden worry on his face
that gave Phoebe back the ability to form words. She tangled her fingers in his
hair. “I want you both inside me, William. Now.”

The words fell from her in a raspy pant. But it was enough.

Will’s nostrils flared, the frown replaced by a smoldering
desire so undeniable her pussy squeezed tight. “Okay.”

He slipped one hand between their bellies, his fingers
parting her sodden folds, and then drove his cock inside her.

She arched her spine into the penetration, head thrown back.
Damon’s hand gripped her hips and he pushed her farther down onto Will’s dick,
impaling her completely.

“So tight, so tight,” Will groaned, gazing up at her. He
pumped up once, twice, three times.

She hissed in a breath, grinding down into his thrusts. He
stretched her wide, so wide. Filled her so totally.

“I could watch your dick in her cunt all day, Will,” Damon
said behind her, “if I didn’t want to do
this
more.” Fingers played at
her arse and, with a not-so-gentle tug, he pulled her cheeks apart and laved
his tongue over her anus.

“Oh oh oh yessss!” She squeezed her eyes shut, clenched her
jaw. Ribbons of concentrated pleasure unfurled through her core, threading
together until the pit of her belly was a knotted ball of exquisite tension.

Will cupped one breast, kneading it with growing force as he
pumped up into her. Damon lashed her puckered hole with his tongue, pushing at
the ring of muscle, tormenting her. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t—

Damon’s tongue left her arse. Cool, thick moisture on her
entry replaced it, painted there with impatient fingers, and then Phoebe felt
something else. Something solid and warm and hard.

Oh yes, yes.

“Take a breath for me, hon,” Will murmured, the hand on her
breast stilling for a moment.

She stared down into his face and did as he asked.

Without a word, Damon penetrated her. One long, slow,
driving thrust that stretched her arse, set it on fire with stinging pain and
excruciating pleasure.

She groaned into it, letting the heat roll over her, through
her. Her pulse thumped in her throat, her blood roared in her ears. They were
both inside her.

And then they both started moving. Will thrust up as Damon
withdrew, Damon plunged deep as Will pulled back. “Fuck, I can feel your cock
inside her, Will.” Damon’s fingers dug into her hips. “Fuck, oh fuck…” His
exclamation turned to a drawn-out groan.

“So right,” Will ground out through clenched teeth, gazing
up at her. “So right—so right, Pheebs.”

Phoebe closed her eyes. He was correct. This
was
right. If it wasn’t, nothing made sense in her world anymore.

She rode them both, her nerve-endings singed, her breaths
shallow. Her breasts swung with their motion, heavy and swollen with need. Will
captured one with his hand just as Damon leaned forward and claimed the other.
They fucked her in perfect, beautiful unison, drove her higher, higher, higher.

Damon’s lips scored her back with desperate kisses, Will’s
lips uttered wordless supplications.

She took them both deeper, deeper, their moans and gasps
echoing hers.

“I’m gonna…” Damon’s fingers drilled into her hips. “Ah Christ,
Phoebe, I’m gonna come.”

His cock swelled in her arse. She fisted her hands in the
duvet, her own climax rushing toward her with such intensity she was petrified.

“Fuck, I’m—”

She came. The very moment Damon roared out his release,
pumping his seed into her arse, Phoebe crashed over into hers. And as she fell,
she felt Will plunge with her, his cock buried deep within her sex.

Until all three lay spent on the bed together.

“We love you, Masters,” Damon mumbled against her back.
“Move in with us. Please?”

The proposal—for that’s what it was, he had no doubt—popped
out of Damon’s subconscious and straight past his lips. He felt the words on
his tongue and, even as those words were forming, knew he’d never wanted
something as much.

Him and Phoebe and Will, living together.

Beneath him, a calm stillness claimed Phoebe.

Under her, Will stared up at him, stunned disbelief—and
undeniable hope—shimmering in his eyes.

“Damon…” Phoebe whispered.

Fuck a duck, she’s going to say—

Someone bashed on the massive door. Repeatedly.

“Phoebe?” came a shout from the other side. A male shout.
“Are you in there?”

“Damn it,” Phoebe groaned, squirming until she’d worked her
way out from between Damon and Will. “It’s Harvey.”

She scrambled off the bed, snatching her clothes from the
floor. Stumbling toward the door, she didn’t look back at them, throwing a
whispered “put your clothes on!” over her shoulder instead. Damon took his own
step away from the bed, dragging his fingers through his hair, slightly
disoriented by the interruption.

“
Please
put some clothes on?” Phoebe mouthed, a
second before she pulled her T-shirt over her head.

Damon shot his discarded shirt a quick look. He didn’t want
to put it on. He wanted to discuss his entirely unexpected but completely
truthful proposition. He wanted to talk about their future together and then
make love to her again. Thanks to Harvey banging away on the door, however, he
couldn’t.

Just who the hell
was
Harvey? This was the second
time in one afternoon the bloke had been at Phoebe’s door.

A rustling of material beside Damon jerked his attention
from the puzzling question and he shot Will a look. His partner was dressing, a
very disgruntled expression on his face.

“Who the fuck
is
this Harvey guy?” Damon muttered.

Will’s jaw bunched. “No idea. But I’m planning on finding
out.”

Damon nodded. “Me too.”

“Phoebe!” Harvey banged on the door again, his voice high
and excited. “Phoebe, I have to tell you something!”

Damon narrowed his eyes. “Persistent bloody bugger, isn’t
he?”

Will didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. Damon could see
the tension twisting through every muscle in his friend’s body.

With a low growl, and an uncomfortable sensation very close
to jealousy wrapping around his chest, Damon crossed the room, collecting his
discarded clothes from the floor. He donned his shirt and shoved his legs in
his jeans just before Phoebe reached the door.

“Phoebe!” Harvey called again, with another impatient bang
on the metal. “I think I know what—”

Whatever he was going to say next was drowned out by the
heavy rumble of the sliding door opening. “Harvey,” Phoebe’s voice was friendly
if somewhat exasperated, “calm down. You sound like you’re about to blow a
gasket. What’s the problem?”

Damon stood just out of Harvey’s line of sight, ear pricked,
muscles tense. “Can I come in?” Harvey asked, the question fast and excited. “I
think I know what caused your fire.”

The equally fast and excited statement snapped Damon’s spine
straight. He flicked Will a look, raising his eyebrows.