Brenna. Why not admit it? Getting deep inside her blew him away every time. Would being inside Cam be as mind-blowing?
Thorn dumped a little more oil from the bottle in his hands and set it on the nightstand. He worked it over Cameron’s back entrance with his fingertips before inserting a finger which slid in easily—and revealed a tight passage that would be a sexual pressure cooker for his dick. Sweating at the thought, he twisted in a second finger and eased them apart. Cam tensed, then settled back.
Leaning around Cam’s broad back, Thorn looked at Brenna. “He still hard?”
She wiggled her hips and nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, and it’s killing me. Hurry!”
Right, like he wanted to rush through his chance to strip Saint Cam bare. Like he wanted to inhale the experience of really being with the two of them. No way, no how, not when he’d waited his whole life.
Slowly, he added a third finger to Cam’s rear. This time, the detective hissed. His shoulders stiffened.
“Hurt?” Thorn asked.
Cam grunted. “You got more in mind than running your mouth and a little finger play?”
The man was asking for it. Honest to goodness asking for it. Thorn figured he’d better give it to him.
Withdrawing his fingers, Thorn took his cock in hand and fitted the head against Cam’s tight entrance. His hands shook, his belly took a nosedive, his balls were on fire.
If this went off as he expected it to, he supposed that someday Cam would be his first. He shivered at the thought and wondered if taking someone inside him who mattered would be as shattering as getting inside someone he cared about. Probably. Meaningful sex, now that he was having it for the first time in his life, was just way fucking better than an anonymous screw.
“Yeah, I got more in mind. This will be totally easy, man,” Thorn promised Cam. “Smooth as glass.”
After a brief hesitation, Cam nodded. “Do it. I want you to.”
Caressing Cam’s taut cheeks, Thorn spread him and assumed a wide stance as he eased inside, nudging gently. Cam gasped. Thank God the bed was waist high. Thorn wrapped his arm around the man’s waist. Under his hand, he could feel the detective’s abdominal muscles tense and ripple.
“Fuck!” Cam muttered.
“Not quite…” Thorn gritted out as the tight ring of muscle stopped him. He pushed harder, banging against it a few times until it gave way and he sank deep, deep.
Oh, shit! Tight and hot, Cam’s ass had a grip on his dick guaranteed to rip away his self-control in about two-point-two seconds. The hard swell of Cam’s prostate dragged over the most sensitive places. How the fuck was he supposed to last through this?
Gingerly, he withdrew, then eased in again. His assessment didn’t change. If anything, his brain just fried more. And Cam, so responsive, tensed underneath him, moaning, hips bobbing. Brenna gasped, and Thorn smiled. Nice to know his impromptu plan was likely to work.
Sliding in to the hilt again, Thorn leaned over Cam, plastering his chest to the man’s back. He slid the silky dark hair away from his ear and murmured, “Ready to fuck?”
Cam shuddered, and Thorn saw his eyes close. “Yeah.”
Thorn reached down to Brenna, petted her shoulder, cupped her breast. “You?”
She whimpered and nodded frantically.
“Good. I’m driving the bus, kids. Hang on for the ride.”
With that, Thorn eased back, nearly to the head, before shoving back inside Cam again. His thrust pushed the detective into Brenna, who gasped and dug her nails into Cam’s shoulders. God, it was good. Mind-bogglingly good. Beyond-known-language good. This was going to be a fast and furious ride. No way to prolong something this sensational.
Better to just enjoy while it lasted.
Pulling back again, Thorn thrust hard, deep, again and again. Without pause. Without mercy. He filled his hands with Cam’s hips, sweat breaking out across his body. Around him, Cam tightened, his body tensed. As his pulse jumped, Thorn could feel it in the sheath of the body around him, beating at his dick, his self-control. Under Cam, Brenna was groaning, flushing, as every demanding entry bled into the next in a furious rhythm that left everyone breathless.
Cam lowered his head to Brenna and devoured her mouth. Brenna’s hands sank into Cam’s hair, and he could see the desperation in her touch. It was more arousing than he’d imagined. The whole scene was. Damn, he was about to lose it—and refused to do it before the others.
Shifting his hips, Thorn changed his angle, focusing on the little bead of Cam’s prostate. The detective’s head rolled back on his neck. His shoulders strained. He let out a growl and his hands latched onto Brenna like a life raft in a raging current.
Thank God, because Thorn could feel the heat rising like flares off the sun’s surface. Desire brewed and bubbled in his belly, in his balls. The need to come was a hot pressure, gripping him tighter and tighter. Sweat trickled down his face, between his shoulder blades.
If he didn’t act fast, he was going to lose it first.
Reaching under Cam, Thorn found Brenna’s clit. Slick, swollen, begging—and if her gasp was anything to go by—very sensitive.
He rubbed her, the friction of his fingers over the bundle of nerves designed for maximum impact. Not too hard or too soft, but enough to drive her past the point of no return.
Brenna began to moan and thrash, her head swinging from side to side as she grew more urgent, her body tensing, clasping, ready…
“Oh…oh, shit,” Cam groaned. “Fuck!”
Brenna let out a long wail, the echo of her cry of ecstasy bouncing off the walls. Like a house of cards, Cam tensed next, his passage tightening and fluttering around Thorn’s cock as the man let out labored breath after labored breath.
Then Cam’s entire body seized up and released with a long cry that mingled with Brenna’s. Part plea, part benediction, the sound, coupled with the thunder of his own blood in his ears, crushed the last of Thorn’s resistance. The grasping clasp of Cam’s body on him was tight and unavoidable and one of the most amazing things he’d ever felt in his life.
Locked him deep inside Cam, need boiled up inside Thorn and spilled over in a scalding rush of sensation. With a throaty cry, the gush of pleasure flamed inside him, so unique and amazing, Thorn swore he’d never felt anything quite like it. Being with the two of them—in every way—was simply life-altering.
But neither of them moved, said a word. What if they didn’t feel the same?
Chapter Eleven
After showers all around, Brenna wandered into the kitchen in one of Cam’s oversized t-shirts which hung to her knees. She watched Thorn prowl through the refrigerator. Cam approached her from behind and dropped a kiss on her shoulder, then peeked around her to look at the available chow too.
Watching them, she bit her lip. When had they both become so dear to her? Who would have ever imagined that she’d come to love men who broke into her house in the middle of the night and used her pleasure against her to find her father?
With just a handful of days left until her father’s trial, she had to wonder what would happen after that. The sex between the three of them was so intense…felt so important not just to her body but her heart. When she saw the looks on their faces deep in the midst of pleasure, she could swear they felt the same. But now? They stared into the refrigerator as if nothing was more important than an afternoon snack.
Maybe she should just feed them, then ask where the hell this unusual relationship was going. They might not care that she loved them, Cam for his sharp yet sensitive side, Thorn for the gruff front that hid a wealth of goodness in his heart. But if she told them how she felt and they rejected her, at least she’d know. Better than leaving, wondering if things would have ended differently if she’d just spoken up.
“Oh, let me.” Brenna shouldered her way past them and grabbed some chicken breasts out of the refrigerator. Sour cream and milk came next, then fresh broccoli and mushrooms. She deposited all that near the stove, gra
bbed a few spices and some pasta from the pantry. She could make something out of this.
“What—?”
Brenna held up a hand to stave Cam’s question off. “You want to eat, let me do my thing.”
“Let me help you. I can cook.”
“I can cook better and faster all by myself.”
As she clattered around the kitchen and took out a pan and a bowl, the doorbell rang.
Everyone in the kitchen froze, then Cam darted into action, running for the door. Everyone followed. Brenna hadn’t noticed weapons on them earlier, but both men drew their guns.
Cam looked through the peephole. “Shit.”
Before she could question him, he threw the door wide open. In the October chill, a lone man in black stood there, looking nervously over her shoulder.