Page 29 of Cross To Bear

I sank deeper into the couch, all that softness broken by their presence. Hard, immediate, I could feel all of their coiled strength held back in just this moment, the threat of it in Razor’s grip on my throat, Bjorn’s on my feet. It was as if I was a rope, stretched out between the two of them, though there was no tension in me because I wasn’t the one winding me tighter. I was passive, so freaking passive, and there was a strange kind of seduction in that.

To just lay my burdens down.

My eyes closed for just a second, so I could feel their hands more clearly. Razor’s lazy caress of my throat, his thumb moving back and forth slowly vs Bjorn’s much more insistent one, I was getting lost in the pleasure. And right as I sank deeper into it, Razor spoke.

“Eyes open.” There was no bark in his voice, but there was plenty of command, one I was helpless to resist. “That’s it, sweetness. I need to see into those eyes, need to watch your every response. You can give me that, right?” He was asking for so little, how could I refuse? I nodded slightly, rewarded instantly with a smile brighter than the sun. “Good girl.”

I was well aware of praise kinks. People talked so frankly about things like this now you’d have to live under a rock to not know what that meant. Though when Jesse tried to throw a few ‘good girls’ around, I barely avoided junk punching him. Who the fuck was he to tell me I was a good girl, when he was a barely functioning adult? That thought had rushed out, hot and caustic and burning everything inside me. Instead of pouring that all over him, I’d just made clear I wasn’t into it. But Razor…

I searched his face, looking for clues as to why when he said it, a wash of something so very warm flooded through me, making me feel like I was right back there in the bath. He didn’t allow for any kind of real inspection though, turning back to watch the movie, only that little smile letting me know he knew exactly what he was doing. And Bjorn? Right as I was simmering away in that mess of heat and confusion, his hand slid up my foot, a thumb brushing against my ankle bone in question.

Of what? I wanted to ask, but that would mean breaking whatever weird little spell Razor had cast. My eyes flicked to Bjorn, his golden eyes boring into mine, giving me nothing other than a kind of intensity that had no end. He was a man about to jump off a cliff edge, but not yet, not without some kind of indication from me. And Razor? His eyes never left the movie for a second. Then Bjorn’s hands gripped both ankles, swivelling around the joint, though not moving any further, not until I looked down again then made the tiniest of nods.

I loved my PJs because they were wide legged, loose and comfortable, the flannel soft against my skin, but right now I saw what else they were good for. The wide cuffs were pushed upwards as Bjorn’s hands moved up to dig into my calves. One leg jumped when he hit a sensitive spot, though the other hand clamped down, keeping me where I was, so I was forced to feel the point where the muscle protested, fought his ministrations as it became more painful than pleasure, right before the knot broke up. He noted the point where my lips fell open, when I panted through it, the wash of pleasure somehow more intense because it hurt first. Then he turned to the next calf.

I had to know where this was going. A guy doesn’t do all of this: rescue you from the side of the road, feed you, run you a bath and then massage your feet for no reward, but as Bjorn’s hands slid upwards, pushing my pants higher and higher, I waited for it to happen.

For a hand to be grabbed and shoved against his cock, for my mouth to be tilted back, an aching length fed past my lips. Right now I wouldn’t even have been averse to it. I was feeling warm, loose, lazy, and more than that. Bjorn’s caresses felt like they licked across my body, wakening nerve endings slowly, slowly, until their combined cries wouldn’t be ignored. I reached then, for Razor, for Bjorn, but Razor shook his head.

“Hands down, sweetness.” The tension went out of my arms without thought, flopping back down across his legs. “That’s it. Just like this, Maddie. Just like this.” He shot me a sidelong look, something that felt so much more intimate than all the others. “You want to just experience things? Well, you’ve got no fucking idea what you’ve just unleashed, girl. You think the four of us haven’t spent the past three years thinking about exactly the things we want you to experience?”

A single eyebrow rose.

“The pleasures we want you to feel. You always think you have to be doing something, like if you don’t earn affection, you don’t deserve it, but the reality is quite the opposite.”

He leaned over, watching me closely as I gasped, the tips of Bjorn’s fingertips sliding across the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. I didn’t have underwear on under the PJs, never expecting anyone to be in a position to notice.

“Anyone who gives the slightest fuck about you is going to want to lavish all of that pleasure on you with the same kind of abandon you give care for others, just because he loves to watch you fall into an abyss of ecstasy.”

His face hovered over mine now, close enough that I could feel his breath on my skin. I tasted beer and Thai food and something else, just a hint I’d only get more of if I kissed him.

“You always want to pay people back for kindness. Well, give me that. Show me what it looks like when you fracture and fall apart. Let Bjorn’s hand slide higher and pet that wet little pussy.”

At the sound of his name, I fought Razor’s grip and looked down to find Bjorn hunched over me, eyes like molten gold. The bear was riding him hard, I could see it in the way the seams of his shirt strained, his body unnaturally still.

“Please…” Jesse never begged for a fucking thing. He just assumed the world would give him whatever he wanted, but Bjorn… This big, beautiful man stared into my eyes and pleaded for the opportunity to cap this night off right, so I did the only thing I could and nodded.

Chapter 18

Bjorn

Razor and I had played games like this a long time ago, putting a girl between us and then fighting for her attention, forcing her to stay in the moment with us, feeling everything we did to her. Though not since we met Maddie. No one had come near any of us since Maddie. Maybe that’s what made this so much more fucking intense. That it’d been so long. That it was her. The one woman who was perfect for us.

And was worn down to a little nub by my brother’s selfishness.

Part of me had fucking exulted when I heard her talk about putting herself first, even if it meant shutting herself off to the possibility of us. It felt like Maddie was taking a massive step forward just then, my heart shoving itself into my throat.

But then I fucking touched her.

Soft as silk, smelling sweet from her bath and the rising scent of honey seeping from her pores as she relaxed by increments, set the bear and the man against each other. She was ready, she was receptive, the animal roared. We needed to just throw her down on the couch and fucking take her. I knew what kind of abusive shit move that would be. I made clear that’d make us no better—no, worse—than Jesse and he went perfectly silent at that, surrendering control to me.

So I stroked her feet, then her calves, relished the moment when her thighs parted and now was marvelling at the soft texture. I wanted to run my lips over every inch of those gentle swells, turning pale skin red with my beard, marking her as mine, but instead, I just stroked her slowly, making clear I’d keep doing this if she kept letting out those tiny pants of pleasure, and that there was so much more to come.

Including her.

“Please…” I said, choking off the stream of begging words that swelled inside me, that were coming in hard and fast, to try and make clear exactly what I’d do if she allowed me this privilege, but she nodded, just a tiny little movement.

“Good girl.”

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