Page 39 of Recurve Ridge

Who’s in control here?

I didn’t bother to bite back the smile he couldn’t see anyway.

“I wasn’t going to do anything more than tease you, Mari,” he grated. “But you’re too sweet, little temptation.” Alan’s breath brushed my lips—and then he moved.

Maybe the lack of vision belied his speed as his mouth crushed mine, but nothing prepared me for the searing intensity of his lust, his need to dominate.

I had the sense from my still sometimes scant interactions with them, despite my months in the cabin, that those boys—Robe, Jon, even Miller—knew how to play the domination game. They made no bones about that. Alan’s style of seduction whispered where their natural characteristics blared, and I wondered if that would carry over into the bedroom with each of them.

Then the chance to wonder about anything at all was stripped away as Alan coiled himself around me until I bowed backward in his arms while he played with my body, leaving me to weather his lust.

Arousal blossomed in jolts of need across my flesh. My skin prickled as I rocked onto his hand, arching up into his kiss. Those sharp lips moved over my mouth, and his tongue sliced inside when I whined my protest at the sensations roiling over my body.

I couldn’t think, couldn’t see. He corralled all my remaining senses and melded me into a palpating creature until, sweaty and moaning, I came all over his hand a second time. His tongue danced with mine in long, hard strokes, his own need undisguised.

Raw.

I cried out as he ground his palm against my clit, working my body for his pleasure, pinning me against his hips. His movements jerked as he brought me closer to the frenzied edge again. This time, when I moaned his name into his mouth, I didn’t fall alone.

Alan hissed his release against my throat, licking and sucking there as he slapped wetly against my back. Through my own haze, I vaguely perceived the way his touch gentled, soothing rather than ripping pleasure from my body, easing the tender flesh that fluttered around roughened fingers. He flicked against my inner walls in a languid motion I never wanted to stop in time with the aftershocks pulsing through me.

He wound his arms around me in the close embrace of a lover, perhaps with a side serving of obsession. I suspected my destination ended there too. My mind wandered for the first time to Robe, and I froze.

“Don’t do it. Don’t overthink it. I’ve told you, little hell girl,he’sinto you. We share everything. He’s fine.”

“But am I?”

The searing light to Robe’s en suite flicked on. I hadn’t even heard the door open. My eyes watered as I stared at my reflection, all kiss-bitten lips, cheeks stained high with color. Alan’s arms were wrapped around mine, his hand still in my pants, a wet stain coating his fingers where I’d drenched everything.

Unable to make eye contact with the wanton creature in the mirror who looked nothing like the broken woman I associated with myself, I tipped my head sideways to stare at Robe. The man in question filled the doorway, his presence looming over us even though he hadn’t stepped a foot over the threshold.

Those deep green eyes conveyed a shadow of too many parts, letting me glimpse the fury that burned within, then whisking away that glimmer of truth. I didn’t need to glance back at Alan to confirm my thoughts. I focused on the tall mountain man who stood mere paces away with the presence of a grizzly while he eyed the bartender with his hand down my pants.

I am in so much trouble.

Something flickering in the depths of Robe’s gaze told me his might be the sort of trouble I’d enjoy.

My eyes watered under the glaring heat lamp of the variety Robe favored. I suddenly remembered that I stood in his private bathroom off the room he’d given me to sleep in while I recovered.

His. Room.

My body clenched around Alan’s fingers. As though reminded of the compromising position we were in, he began to move his hand inside me again. Echoes of the knee-trembling pleasure he had given me warmed my body until I again bore down on his intruding fingers, my attention still locked on Robe.

His expression never changed, though he stared at us with ravenous eyes.

“Oh, do you like that?” Alan’s drawl slid down my body in a series of sweet, sensual shocks, leaving me more boneless than ever. “Robe likes to watch.”

I wanted to deny it, but a strangled moan tumbled free. My hips rocked against Alan’s touch, moving with him like a puppet. Dazed, I tilted my head back onto his shoulder and turned to face Robe, still reacting to the pleasure another man wrung from my body.

He stood there, Robe Huntingdon, broad, scarred hands open at his sides. A foreboding sentinel to protect or to block a path of escape, though I didn’t need either right now. His gaze dropped to Alan’s hand tenting my pants with his knuckles, his wrist exposed out the top of the material, working my body with his fingers to his own rhythm.

Robe’s heat-filled eyes glowed with desire. He brought one hand over the front of his jeans. His slight smile turned to a feral grimace as he gripped his cock with white knuckles and rubbed himself roughly as he focused on the scene before him. Those forest-dark eyes fixed on me alone.

“Mari. Show him how beautiful you are when you come,” Alan cooed seductively in my ear.

The temptation to do as he demanded slammed into me. Alan worked me faster, the base of his hand grinding against my clit. My eyes drifted shut as I floated between the two men, one of them touching me, one observing. Each sense was heightened the way they had been with the light off. Part of me wanted to go back into that darkness, to hide. The other part of melikedRobe’s lust-riddled gaze.

Alan circled his hand around my throat, restricting my air for a second before letting go. “Open your eyes, Mari.” His voice roughened again, his cock pressing hard against me, though he’d already found his first release.

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