Belonging To Them Part 2

All the while her arousal built from their touch and the knowledge that this was only the first c.o.c.k to fill her tonight. There would be two more. How many times would they take her? How well-used would her p.u.s.s.y be after this night?

She moaned at the forbidden thought. Nice girls shouldn't think that way, but she'd crossed that line. She was a s.e.xual creature bent on as much f.u.c.king as she could handle.

David grasped her hips, controlling her wild movements as he thrust in a fast rhythm into her. Patrick reached down and rubbed her c.l.i.t, his callused finger sending fire cascading through her veins. Sean lifted his head to release her scream as her first release speared through her. In her dimmed vision, she thought she saw Jamie standing in the doorway watching them before Sean again blocked her sight. Just the thought of being observed set her off again, and she convulsed around David's c.o.c.k. His deep grunt filled the room, then he was gone, leaving her p.u.s.s.y painfully empty.

Sean and Patrick immediately flipped her onto her knees and Sean moved to take her from behind. She saw a wrapper flutter to the floor as she reached for Patrick's jeans to open them. His c.o.c.k popped out, and she sank her mouth onto it as Sean surged into her. Freaking amazing. She'd left any reservations behind and launched full tilt into the world of menage.

Patrick's c.o.c.k tasted so good on her tongue. She sucked and licked in time to Sean's deep thrusts. Oh...so deep. She groaned around the shaft in her mouth, earning a few droplets of pre-c.u.m to whet her palate. She groaned again when David s.h.i.+fted her slightly so he could get to her breast. He drew the peak deep between his lips, pus.h.i.+ng the tip against the ridged roof of his mouth. His hand drifted lazily over her belly. He pushed up, intensifying the sensation of Sean's driving c.o.c.k. She knew he had to feel the other man's pistoning.

She cried out as she convulsed around his shaft.

"Oh yes, baby! Milk me." His fingers dug into her waist. "Yes. Ah..."

With one final slam, she felt his warmth deep inside her, filling the condom. She breathed heavily around Patrick's arousal as she and Sean both froze. Her hands fisted in the sheets. Pleasure riffled through her, cascading and slowly weakening as if a large rock had been thrown into the pool of her climax. Her toes curled as he s.h.i.+fted slightly and another release spiked into her p.u.s.s.y.

Patrick gently lifted her mouth from his c.o.c.k. "I want you to ride me."

"I don't know if I have the strength," she confessed.

"You will," he growled, and his forcefulness coiled new desire in her womb. She whimpered and placed her forehead against his chest as Sean pulled free.

David released her breast and moved from beneath her. Tenderly, he lifted her head and kissed her on the lips. "Night, beauty."

"You're going?"

He nodded. "Leaving you to Patrick. And Jamie," he said, jerking his head toward the hallway. She looked toward the door and saw the man who'd enflamed her most standing in the shadows. She knew, no matter what David said, he wouldn't be joining them.

"Come on you," David rasped. He hooked an arm around Sean's neck and kissed him hard. "I want in you bad."

"B-but..." Rayna stuttered.

Sean laughed. "We're totally unrelated, honey. My name's only O'Keefe because of him. I used to be a Brennan-the boy who lived down the street and fell in with his wild ways." He tickled David's belly and David pinched him. The two of them scooped up their clothes and left the room.

"I didn't see that coming," she murmured.

Patrick laughed. "They play both ways, but mostly for the same team. It works in this town. And the rest of us O'Keefes consider Sean as family because he's basically 'married' in. He and David are committed."

"But you're all Irish and you look alike-I mean... Well, I don't know that I actually know what I mean."

He'd s.h.i.+fted so he was partially off the bed and had slipped on protection while they'd spoken. Now, he moved beneath her. He settled her over her c.o.c.k. The wide head of it brushed her opening, and she slowly sank down the length. She closed her eyes at the intense sensation of his width so deep in her.

"Aye, we're all immigrants," he conceded. "Our parents lived near each other in a largely Irish section of Brooklyn. The looks things is just coincidence and actually, aside from build and hair, they don't really look that alike."

"Uh-huh," she murmured, totally distracted by the feel of him. She rocked a little, angling her c.l.i.t to rub into his pubis.

"That's it, sweetness. Doesn't he feel good inside you," she heard as Jamie rasped into her ear. He stood behind her, his body pressed to her back, one hand low on her groin and the other on her a.s.s.

"I thought you weren't gonna play," she said as he kissed her shoulder.

"Oh man, Rayna. Baby..." Patrick moaned. "Yeah, Jamie, move her." His hands clamped on her thighs as Jamie pitched against her, jolting her forward as his body rubbed against her back, his hard c.o.c.k pressing along her a.s.s. He'd opened his hoodie but, some time since he'd come home, had removed his s.h.i.+rt. She groaned at the feel of his warm flesh along her back.

Jamie moved her hair to the side and kissed the back of her neck as she picked up speed and rode Patrick's c.o.c.k. Her whole body pulsed. Her eyes closed as she sank into the sensations sizzling over her. Two sets of hands. Two bodies. A mouth sucking possessively at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Hips bucking upward into her clenching pa.s.sage.

"You're so hot," Jamie whispered. "Even more beautiful in the throes of pa.s.sion than I imagined. Does it excite you to f.u.c.k them all? To know how bad they all wanted you?"

"Yes, baby. Squeeze me," Patrick moaned. His rough hands sc.r.a.ped along her thighs and yanked her down harder on his c.o.c.k. "You feel so good."

She leaned against Jamie, rocking with him as she f.u.c.ked Patrick. Jamie's hands came up and cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. As he worked his fingers beneath her bra, she realized she'd never taken it off. She'd been so distracted, so taken with what the men were doing to her. Reaching behind her, she released the clasp and felt the weight of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s fall into his palms.

His fingers tightened. "Oh, sweetness..."

"Play with my nipples, Jamie," she begged.

He did, twisting each between his fingers, and her p.u.s.s.y felt as if it might explode with pleasure. She heard Sean and David crying out down the hall, and it triggered reaction in her. She reached back and gripped Jamie's waist while she thrust hard onto Patrick. Her mouth dropped open on a silent scream, and her whole world suspended, colors flying past her. As she fell forward, over Patrick, she distantly heard Jamie stumble away.

Disappointment threaded through her-not that he hadn't f.u.c.ked her, but that he'd run away. The gnawing feeling soon disappeared as Patrick ran his hands over her and kissed her shoulder.

"Thank you," he whispered.

In a haze, she let him move her around so he could slip out of her and s.h.i.+ft her onto the mattress. He kissed her temple then silently smoothed her hair from her face. She smiled wanly, almost too tired to respond. Her eyes were closed before he left the room.

Chapter Three

When Rayna woke, her stomach growling since she'd skipped dinner, she found that someone had brought her things from the car. Her whole body ached pleasantly when she rolled to the side. Heat flooded through her, p.r.i.c.kling up her neck. Goodness, what had had she done? One thing was sure. It had been remarkable. she done? One thing was sure. It had been remarkable.

Gingerly, she sat up and hugged the blankets to her chest. A hot shower was in order then she'd scrounge up some breakfast-she'd make something for the guys, too.

"Hey, Rayna," Patrick called as he pa.s.sed the doorway on his way to the stairs. "We're off to work. Feel free to use the phone to contact your bank and stuff. If you need anything, come over to the garage, otherwise we'll be back about five."

"O-okay," she replied.

"Make yourself at home," he added with a smile. He pulled her door shut and was off before she could reply. A few minutes later, she heard the others pa.s.s.

Quickly, she dug toiletries and clothes from her bags then went in search of a shower since there wasn't one attached to her room. As it turned out, it was the door beside her room. Moaning, she let the water cascade over her and ease away the tingly aches from the night before. Her p.u.s.s.y was tender after her exertions and, with a naughty smile, she wondered how it would feel at the end of a week. Well used and needy for more, she decided. Before last night, it had been eight months since she'd been with a man. Would she long for one after the excess of the days to come?

With a chuckle, she reminded herself she had to do more than have s.e.x while she was here. Planning her day, she headed for her room and stopped short when she saw a man beside her bed, her sheet raised to his face. He wore jeans and a b.u.t.ton-down white s.h.i.+rt. His build was slighter than Patrick, Sean and David, and his hair was cut in a more businesslike, less s.h.a.ggy manner.

Even with his back to her, she knew who it was.

"Jamie," she gasped.

His back stiffened, and he froze. Then the sheet dropped from his fingers. He shoved his hands in his pockets but didn't turn. "I thought you'd left with them," he said quietly.

"No. Actually, I thought you went with them."

"I only go in to work on the books a few days a week."

She set her discarded robe and her toiletries on a chair that was near her luggage. Jamie, still hadn't moved. Her brow furrowed as she stared at his rigid back. "Won't you look at me?"

He shook his head. "It's better if I don't."

"Please, I want to see your face and know who's got my nerves all wound up."

Jamie sighed, feeling the weight of her stare on him. She'd hate him, but how could he deny her. She'd see him sometime in the next week anyway. Better now than later when she'd be horrified that she'd let him f.u.c.k her in the dark.

Slowly, he turned, presenting his good side first. Watching her, he kept moving. Her intake of breath stabbed through him, as did the way her teeth sank into her bottom lip, but he expected her revulsion and pity.

Instead, she rapidly crossed to him and wrapped her arms around him. She hugged him so tight, he thought perhaps she'd never let go but then, her hands moved up his arms. He cringed slightly when she touched his face.

"No. Don't." She shook her head, her thumbs smoothing his worry lines. "I had no idea..."

"That's the point."

She frowned. "What you must have been through... I can't imagine. It horrifies me. Not because of the scars. But because of what hurt you this badly."

Her compa.s.sion gripped his heart, squeezing tightly. Her hand traveled to his chest.

"There are more?" she asked.

He nodded. His hands gripped her waist, fighting the urge to draw her tightly against him. His pulse thudded. G.o.d, he wanted to be in this woman, to hold her naked body against him, to fill himself with her gasping breaths.

Her finger traced along the placket of his s.h.i.+rt. She stared intently at the flat, white disks as red tinged her cheeks. "Last night..." she started then took a shuddery breath. "It was awesome. But...do you know what I wanted most?"

"No."

"I wanted you to f.u.c.k me, Jamie. I still do." She gave a self-depreciating laugh. "You'd think after three c.o.c.ks, I'd be good to go. But you know how it is when you're craving something. Whatever else you have just isn't as satisfying. My problem is it was someone someone else else who got me all worked up." who got me all worked up."

She bit the side of her lip and looked away. Stunned, he turned her back with two fingers under her chin. If she wanted him, it was certainly what she'd get. His c.o.c.k flooded to life and pushed against his fly. She wasn't the only one in need. h.e.l.l, he'd barely slept for his desire and knowing she was in the room beside his.

Hungrily, he kissed her.

"Jamie," she murmured against his lips.

"I love your mouth," he groaned, darting in for another taste. "I don't want to share it."

She pulled back and looked at him, observing him fully, not flinching. He knew what she was doing. She wanted him to realize that the scars didn't matter to her, that she didn't think they detracted from him as a man.

But the scars did matter. He knew it. Maybe they didn't in this brief moment, but they would. Later...

"Then don't," she said, taking him by surprise. "Don't share it. I won't kiss anyone's mouth but yours while I'm here."

He liked the idea of that and kissed her again as if to seal the deal. He tensed slightly as she started to open his s.h.i.+rt. His hands covered hers then slid down to her waist.

"Maybe you should undress first." He shuffled them toward the bed and he sat on the edge. He wanted to help her out of her clothes but since his ability to kneel was lacking these days.

She smiled slightly, and her fingers stroked over his ridged cheek. "I'm not going to change my mind." She pulled her T-s.h.i.+rt over her head then tossed it aside. "Seeing you isn't going to change how I feel-how I felt the moment I saw you. It won't change what I want." Her palms slid over her torso, and her eyes drifted to half-mast. "Or how I burn."

He leaned forward and pressed his lips against her sternum, just above the flimsy fastener of her bra. Backing up slightly, but staying within his arms' reach, she swiveled her hips. Her fingers played at the closure of her jeans.

"I've never felt this free," she said. Her teeth on her lower lip told of the nerves that still trembled through her.

"But?" he asked.

"But then I remember how...odd...this all is, and it makes me-well, I don't know. What would people think if they knew I was with four men last night? And that I'm still yearning for one of them. That I'm not sure I can get enough..."

"Around here, they'd think you're a G.o.ddess. Anywhere else doesn't matter." He pulled her forward and down to straddle his legs and she ground against his groin as he feathered his lips over hers. "What happens in Daly stays in Daly."

"I thought that was Vegas."

"They stole it from us."

"Oh yeah?"

He flicked open the b.u.t.ton on her jeans. "Oh yeah. And right now, it's just you and me. One man. One woman."

After he helped her to stand again, he lowered her zipper and pushed her pants down her hips while she rested her hands on his shoulders. He knew she'd be able to feel the ridges from his scars through the cotton of his b.u.t.ton-down s.h.i.+rt. Her fingers flexed rather than drawing away.

"How?" she asked, as she stepped free of her clothing.

He swallowed momentarily unable to answer as he looked at her clad in mere sc.r.a.ps of black lace that sharply contrasted her creamy white skin. He pulled her forward to straddle him again. His hand immediately slid into her panties, cupping her smooth a.s.s and pulling her p.u.s.s.y tight to his aching c.o.c.k. Moaning, she ground against him. Her flat belly and b.r.e.a.s.t.s brushed against him as she rode up and down the ridge. He suspected the rough placket over his zipper was making contact with her c.l.i.t through her thin panties.

One of his hands pushed between them and covered her mound. Her wetness enveloped his fingers as he probed her folds, and satisfaction at her arousal triggered a primal response in him he'd thought long dead. She wanted him; there was no question.

Turning, he placed her against the pillows on the rumpled bed. Her long, sable-colored hair tumbled around her head in silken waves. Her eyes were deep, chocolaty pools of trouble. Her pale pink lips parted as she reached for him, and this time, as he leaned over her, he didn't stop her as she moved to open the b.u.t.tons of his s.h.i.+rt. He braced over her and remained still.

His eyes closed, and he tried to keep his face impa.s.sive as he waited for her to see the collision of scars from both burns and the metal that had clawed deep into the left side of his body. The damage hidden by his clothing was far worse than what had been done to his face.

"Oh, Jamie," she whispered as she pushed open the cloth and shoved it down his arms. She opened his s.h.i.+rt cuffs, and he pulled free. His eyes opened when his upper half was bare, and he almost wished he'd left them shut. Tears brimmed her eyes as she met his gaze with such dismay at what had happened to him. "How?" she asked again.

He s.h.i.+fted to lie beside her, and she cuddled into his arms, not thinking twice about pressing her lips to his chest where scars pulled his nipple to an odd shape.

"I was a photojournalist. You know...that Life magazine, National Geographic, coffee table book kind of stuff. I was in the middle east-wrong place at the wrong time. I was filming a religious festival when a suicide bomber attacked the partic.i.p.ants." He splayed the fingers of his scarred hand. "I was a mess but still very lucky. Nearly a hundred people died."

Her tongue flicked over his nipple then she kissed his chest again. Her nails dragged along his good side, sending fire through him.

"You have a remarkable att.i.tude," she said.