Page 40 of Recurve Ridge

A part of me reveled in commanding the pleasure of both these men who demanded authority in their own right. What should have seemed wrong felt so right. Tension left my body as I arched into Alan’s movement. My shoulders dropped back, which pushed out my breasts as I ground down onto his hand.

Robe’s audible pants grew faster, every breath matching mine as he rubbed himself through his pants. His lips parted, his desire mingling with ours. Despite not being a physical part of the act Alan performed, Robe’s presence consumed every viable inch of air in the room.

“Mari,” Robe rasped. His hand pulsed around his denim-encased cock as he fisted himself. A deep moan tore from his mouth as I watched him succumb to a bodily need as he witnessed our debauchery that held his attention.

The urge to curl around his body and touch and lick and suck on him the way Alan was doing to me consumed my mind. My knees buckled, but the man at my back didn’t let me fall.

The bartender looked up from where he nibbled on my neck, then resumed his activity, biting down hard. The sharp pain combined with Robe’s groan in a headrush of pleasure. I cried out as heat smashed over my body, aching as my orgasm hit with the power of both men, though only one of them was touching me.

Alan licked at my throat where I bared it to him as I sank into his arms. “So beautiful.” He brought my mouth to his in slow, deep kisses. “So perfect for us. Isn’t she?”

Robe’s chest heaved as he stared through me, possession exposed raw on his face.

My head swam as Alan withdrew his fingers, stroking the engorged nerve-filled bundle to soothe the oversensitized ache he’d left there. The scent of sex swirled around us as he brought his knuckles first to my lips, glossing them, and then his. I tasted myself while he sucked the orgasms he’d drawn out of my body from his fingers.

Alan split his tongue between them, making a meal of it and acting the memory out, like I suspected he would do onstage. He brought clean fingers out of his mouth and kissed the middle one, aiming the gesture at Robe, who looked like he was struggling to remain standing.

I understood the feeling.

“Maybe next time.” Alan winked.

After making sure he propped me safely against the wall, he strutted away, crossing the room until he reached Robe. The giant woodsman didn’t move, still squeezing his spent cock as he stared straight at me.

Alan rose on to his toes at the doorway. Pushing his mouth up, he kissed Robe, smearing the taste of my pleasure against the bigger man’s lips. I watched as Robe opened his mouth to accept his tongue and kissed the cheeky stripper back deeply. He raised one hand to grip the dancer’s nape possessively until Alan moaned, his dominance ripped away in a single kiss. Alan reached for Robe’s crotch, but the mountain man batted him away with a deep growl. My body thrummed with heightened need before Robe broke away, his gaze still locked on mine.

Shifting aside, he made just enough room for Alan to slip through the gap between man and wall. Alan shot me another wink over his shoulder and disappeared.

I opened my mouth to say something, but my courage depleted without my wingman at my back. Robe didn’t help. My Everest crossed thick arms over his chest, impassive and unmoving despite the scent of debauchery still floating in the thick air between us.

His cock tented a dark spot on his pants. I had no idea if he wanted me to ask to finish him or cover up and leave his house altogether. Lost on everything, the confusion seemed so much worse than before Alan touched me. The tentative pleasure and healing he offered dissipated.

Alan helped me conquer my fear that I would never be able to take pleasure from a man’s touch ever again. Now… I didn’t know where we stood.

Alone. On the other side of a small bathroom from the man I trusted.

A man IthoughtI could trust. But from the way he looked at me, I wasn’t sure if he wanted to devour me or kill me for what I just did with one of his friends. His men.

None of Alan’s whispered platitudes meant anything in this moment as Robe watched me through hooded eyes, his face an indecipherable mask.

That break in trust hurt me as much as it did him.

“I’m sorry.” Nothing else in my mind seemed valid.

In the event that my brain thought up something else fun to do, I closed my mouth and pressed my thighs together. My body ached to collapse onto his bed, preferably sandwiched between Robe and Alan, and sleep.

Just sleep.

Robe raised his fingers to his mouth, rubbing them across his lips. Desire still raged in those dark eyes, green flames wreathed in emotions as indecipherable as their master. He inhaled my scent, then licked his fingers, a simple gesture that copied Alan’s earlier show and signaled his style as slower, savoring.

More intimate.

Then Robe dropped his hand and pushed away from the door to follow Alan’s exit strategy, leaving me alone.

I stood in his en suite, reeling from the loss of both men and wondering at the pleasure they helped me rediscover. My legs trembled once more and then gave out. I slid to a gentle stop on the cold floor, gathered my limbs about me in a huddle, and closed my eyes.

Mountain men were going to kill me.

11

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