Each time they switched, one of them threw another log on the fire. I watched the sweat drip down their hard chests. I saw them slick their hair back from the perspiration of so savagely fucking the hell out of me. There weren’t any breaks, any pauses. Not for me, anyway. I was in a nonstop world of constant attention. A world where one lover withdrew, throbbing at the very edge of completion, and another took his place. A world where my legs remained spread for long stretches of deep, beautiful lovemaking, before I was flipped or repositioned or traded off to the next eager lover, all waiting and rejuvenated.
In the end I rode all three of them, while holding the other’s hands. Forming that intimate connection. That one final bond the guys couldn’t form without me in the middle, joining them in that last intimately important way. I was the conduit that fused their love. The womanly connection they each needed so desperately in their lives, but shared between them, so that even that aspect of their existence somehow included each other.
They were a brotherhood, I knew now. They had been, long before I’d gotten there. But in making love to them like this, in sharing such wanton intimacy and connectivity, I realized the depth of that connection went so much deeper than them being friends, business partners, and more.
And now they had me.
I don’t know how I ended up asleep. I might’ve passed out from climaxing too hard, or too much — that’s how intense the night became. I woke up in the wee hours of the morning though, naked and alone. The guys had apparently tucked me in before leaving. The fireplace — now nothing more than a low mound of glowing embers — was the only clock to tell how much time had passed.
But damn I was thirsty.
Usually I kept a few water bottles in my mini-fridge, to keep from having to go downstairs. When they’d build the mansion in the eighteen hundreds, they used water basins or something equally gross. Right now though, my fridge was empty.
Crap.
I pulled on the pair of shorts from the top of my laundry pile, and grabbed a fresh T-shirt from a nearby drawer. Then I made my way down to the kitchen, marveling at how incredibly pleasant my body still felt despite last night’s events. The memories were still fresh. Beautiful. Loving.
As I opened the fridge, I made it a point to burn them deeper into my brain.
“You never quit, do you?”
I whirled, and the water I was about to drink went spilling in a wide, fanned out arc. Bryce laughed. He was standing at the counter with his own water bottle in hand, along with a plate of fries.
“Holy FUCK don’t do that!” I gasped, clutching my pounding heart.
“Do what?”
“Scare me half to death!”
“Well what should I do?” he chuckled. “I got hungry. I came down. I’m standing here eating french fries in the silence before dawn, and suddenly you show up thirsty.” He crunched down on another crisply-coated fry. “Should I just stand here in silence until you notice me? Wouldn’t that be a little creepier?”
“Yes,” I agreed. “I guess it would. It also might give me a heart attack.”
“See?” he said toasting me with his next french fry. “This way’s better.”
We stood for a few moments as I eyed him over. He was dressed like me, in shorts and a T-shirt, only his T-shirt was so tight I could see every last muscle. Even as sated as I currently was, I still couldn’t stop looking.
“You’re kidding, right?” he quipped.
“What?”
“You wanna go again?”
I let out a short laugh. “Why? You don’t think you can handle it?”
“Oh I can handle it,” he boasted. “The question is…”
All at once Bryce stopped, abandoning the rest of his sentence. His expression changed from mischief to confusion as his head turned left, shifting his gaze outside.
“What?” I said, instantly worried.
He didn’t answer right away. He just kept squinting into the darkness.
“What is it?”
“Someone’s out there,” he said. “In the courtyard.”
“Are you sure?”