Their Private Need (Death Lords MC 3)

In the bedroom, Michigan and Easy are sitting side by side on the sofa. Halfway across the room, the music starts and I catch on. This is my show, if I want to do one.

I start to sway, hoping I don’t look like a fool. Encouraged by their appreciate gazes, I run my hands along my sides and up to catch my breasts. I cup my breasts and then lift the T-sh

irt off so all I’m wearing is the leather chaps. I slink to the ground and then back up, turning, bending over.

I'm rewarded with swift intakes of breath and when I spin around I see their glittering gazes and the large ridges in their jeans. Their approval emboldens me and I fall into the sexy music. I touch my nipples, stretch my arms above my head, arch my back and then drop my hand between my legs where I'm already ready and wet.

“Place your hands on my legs here and point that ass toward Michigan," Easy orders. Michigan has resettled into the desk chair which he wheels over to the sofa.

I lean over, knowing my ass is entirely exposed. Michigan smooths his hands over my globes and then with a hard push directs me toward Easy's now exposed penis. I lick it from tip to base, tonguing the heavy veins. Michigan lifts me so that my knees are on his legs.

"Take him deep." Michigan's voice is dark and throaty but he has no more orders because his tongue is making long treks between my legs.

I open my mouth and swallow Easy's thick penis until it hits the back of my throat. I'm stuffed full of them. Michigan's mouth is relentless, sucking me until I'm out of my mind and Easy's shaft is stroking down into the cavern of my throat. I drink him seed down and as soon as Easy's done coming, Michigan shifts and rams his long, hard rod between my legs and into my butt. Incredibly, Easy is hard again or maybe he never fully softened. I don't know anything anymore.

Michigan stands and Easy grabs my dangling legs. He proceeds to work into my sex until I'm stretched and full on all sides. My body is burning and the only place I can quench the fire is through the touch of these men. Somehow we maneuver to the bed where I straddle Easy while Michigan's big body covers my back.

My breasts nearly suffocate Easy, and Michigan's hands almost break the headboard as we whirl inside the tornado of pleasure created by the endlessly thrusts and strokes, the mindless kisses, and the fervent promises to hold each other forever.

I close my eyes and allow their strong hands hold me and their fierce need to wrench from me the greatest ecstasy I could ever imagine. I've been a good girl all my life and I feel as if I've been rewarded a slice of heaven on earth.

In the aftermath, I rest between the two large bodies but can’t sleep. Thoughts of how I’m going to tell Father, how I will weather the inevitable storm of disapproval, and how I will support myself make it hard to fall asleep. There are big changes coming in my life. Some will be wonderful and some may be scary. The only thing I can hold on to is this one thought—you'd have to kill me before I'd ever leave these men.

“Sleep, Little Red.” Easy’s husky voice jolts me as I thought they were both asleep.

Michigan’s head lifts from his pillow to press a kiss against my cheek. “There isn’t a thing that prevents us from being together if it’s something we all want.”

“I want us,” I say thickly. Emotion makes it hard to speak.

“I want us.” Easy lifts my right cuffed wrist and with an answering nod, Michigan lifts my other wrist.

They bring the cuffs together and I swear I hear an audible click even though the magnets are silent. Maybe it’s just the sound of the universe slotting everything in place. With their hands wrapped around my wrists, with their cuffs against my chest, and their hearts beating in solid rhythm with mine, I finally drift off.

I am my beloveds’ and my beloveds are mine.

Their Fierce Love

Love ain't simple, easy, or uncomplicated, but it's damn good.

Easy and Michigan fought together in the Marines and have shared women ever since. Lots of ladies are down for a one night stand but they haven't found one who was willing stay the course with both of them...until they meet untried pastor's daughter, Annie Bloom.

But a few nights of stolen passion aren't enough for the three of them. The two men set out to prove to Annie that they're worth a lifetime of love.

Their fragile new relationship is threatened when Annie's father learns the truth and soon the struggle to stay together becomes one of life or death.

Chapter Eleven

Annie

The second time I wake this morning is due to the sunlight filtering through a small break in the windows. The murmurs of deep male voices punctuated by a low chuckle push me to open my eyes but I stay still under the sheet and comforter that is tucked around me so that I can watch the two men sitting only ten feet away. Easy, with his Norwegian ancestry stamped all over his square jaw and straight bladed nose, is lounging on the green sofa with his eyes glued on the television. One ankle is resting on his opposite knee and his arms are spread across the back. He looks relaxed and his face is sporting an ever-present smile. Easy is just like his name. He approaches life as if there are no barriers—or at least none that he can’t kick down with his size 13 boots. But in the face of his beauty, it wouldn’t surprise me if barriers didn’t exist for him.

Look at me. I feel like a ripe apple without him so much as shaking the tree. He only had to open his mouth and say my name and I was jumping on the back of his motorcycle ready to follow him anywhere.

That’s not the entire story. No, the other half is seated at the chair at the desk. Michigan, the other Death Lords enforcer, has a menacing piece of black metal in one hand and a soft gray cloth in the other. He’s cleaning a gun while he watches the same television show. I cast a glance toward the flickering screen and see a bunch of people fixing up a car.

Michigan’s appeal is harsher, wilder than Easy’s. His angular jaw and prominent cheekbones are softened by lush lips that would make a supermodel sigh in jealousy. And she’d likely spend at least a few restless nights wondering exactly how they’d feel against her skin.

I know.

I know that they are soft but can kiss with bruising determination.

I know that their touch can bring me to an emotional high I didn’t even know existed.

I know that being the subject of these two men’s intense affection has rendered me a wholly different person.

A few weeks ago, I was ordinary Annie Bloom, only daughter of the Fortune Methodist pastor. Now I am something new.

What? I’m not entirely sure but I want to find out because this is what I want to see every morning—my two men enjoying each other’s company as I lie in bed wrecked from their attention.

The sun rose about three hours ago. I know this because when Easy woke me with his fingers between my legs, his mouth on my neck, dawn light filtered in between the crack in the hotel curtains. My body woke up hungry and aching and they satisfied me before I even had to voice my need.

The rosy glow made Michigan’s brown eyes look like burnished gold. He watched Easy ready me for the invasion of both their bodies and tugged on his own erection.

Then he took my mouth, kissing me more softly and sweetly than I’d anticipated. When I came in a flood around Easy’s fingers, Michigan swallowed my cries of pleasure.

Easy used my arousal and extra lubrication to wet the puckered skin and tight channel of my rear. He slowly fed his penis inside me and I gasped at each thrust until he was fully seated. He rolled onto his back, bringing me with him and then Michigan straddled both of us. I laid pinned between their bodies, their hard erections shafting me in steady perfect rhythm.

Easy held my hips between his large hands and moved me as he thrust. Michigan gripped the headboard so hard I marveled that part of the wooden frame didn’t break off in his hands. His pelvis rubbed against my clitoris with each forward movement and there was no part of my sex that was not completely possessed by their bodies.

If Michigan hadn’t been kissing me when I came, I might have screamed down the hotel. I was in a daze afterward, barely feeling them withdraw. I vaguely remember them both kissing me and someone applying a warm washcloth between my legs before I rolled over, closed my eyes and fell into a deep sated sleep.

I could lie here all day and watch them but all too soon my ogling is cut short when Michigan rises and sets the gun on the desk. He wipes his hands on anot

her cloth and then stalks over to the bed.

“You hungry?”

He's a mountain of hard flesh. In his worn jeans and tight T-shirt, he could star in a calendar of hot men. Both of them could. I'm not certain what they do but they are physically fit with defined ridges and valleys in their abdomens and biceps that bulge under the end of the T-shirt sleeves. My fingers itch to touch them at all times. I curl them into the sheets to keep from grabbing at Michigan but maybe…maybe I shouldn't work so hard to not touch them because the look in Michigan's eyes is one I'm beginning to recognize. It's a hungry look. A hot one. One that says, "I'm ready to devour you."

Easy’s head swivels in my direction. “You’re awake. Want us to order something for you? Room service takes about five fucking years.”

I gather the covers around my bare body. "Should I get ready?"

“Nope. We’re not in any hurry.”

There’s no accusation that I’ve slept too long or kept them from doing something important. They just want to take care of me. How can I resist?

I stretch and the comforter that one of them had placed around my body slips down, taking the sheet with it. The tops of my small breasts appear and Michigan gives an approving grunt.

He takes one large finger and runs it from the hollow of my throat down between the valley of my breasts, bisecting me in two. With one hand he draws the sheet down, all the while dragging his finger downward. It smooths over my rounded belly, dips into my belly button and then pauses at the top of my soft curls. I hold my breath.

"You feeling okay?" His deep voice is hoarse, tinged with a little regret as if he's sorry for wanting me. I love how it makes me feel because I'm as desperate for him as he is for me.

"Yes." I kick the sheets down in answer. The cool air of the room causes goose bumps to freckle my skin. Or maybe it's the response of my body to his hot gaze as it roves over the newly exposed flesh. His frank appreciation emboldens me and I allow my knees to fall open. His chest heaves as he stares. The one finger he has on my skin hasn't moved but I'm growing wetter, hotter by the second.