The Extravagant Collection, page 10
All that leads to the promised land.
My hands explore him as his breathing intensifies. I slide off the sleeves, letting the shirt fall to the floor, and my mouth falls open as I take in his upper body.
It is absolute perfection. I run my hands along his arms, imprinting the muscle and his strength in my mind, memorizing the way he feels.
He groans, and the sound is carnal, sending sparks across my shoulders and down my chest.
He tucks a finger under my chin and makes me look at him. “Is this what you want, beautiful?”
“To touch you?”
“Yes. Is this your fantasy?” he asks, like he needs to know, needs to be certain.
I nibble on the corner of my lips, nodding. “Yes,” I say, and speaking the truth with my friend isn’t enough. I need to give this man all my confession. I cup his cheek, stroke his jaw. “Because you’re my fantasy. All my fantasies are with you, for you, about you,” I say, and desire builds in me, gathering strength. “You’re in all of them, Callum. Every one. And I want to see you. I want to know your body.”
“Have me.” He lets go of my chin, lowers his hands to his belt, and tugs it off. As he toes off his shoes, he runs a thumb over the button of his slacks. “Finish it, Ivy. Undress me all the way.”
I swallow, breathing hard, pleasure rushing through me. My panties grow damper by the second as I undo the button, unzip, then push his pants over his strong, muscular ass, stopping to run my hands along his sculpted cheeks.
Yum.
“Damn,” I say approvingly.
“What’s the ‘damn’ for?”
“Your ass is a work of art. It’s like a sculpture.”
He laughs, loops his hands around my body, and squeezes mine. “I could say the same about you.”
Then I swat his hands away. “Still my turn.”
He holds up his hands in playful surrender. “Don’t let me stop you.”
“I won’t.” I finish pushing his pants down, and he bends, steps out of them, and sheds his socks.
He’s clad only in black boxer briefs, and he’s glorious.
Thick thighs, powerful legs, muscles for days.
He’s so strong, and I want this gorgeous man to take me hard and ruthlessly. I cup his erection over his briefs, and his breath hitches. “I’m going to get on my knees for you. I want you to own my mouth, Callum. Don’t hold back. Don’t ever hold back.”
“Never. Never with you,” he says, as I kneel and he wraps a hand around my head, curling a big palm over my hair, clasping me tight.
The hold he has on me is a reminder that he knows what I want. That he knows how I like it.
And that we’ve shifted into this part of the night—from me in control to him taking charge.
Just the way I want it. To be put in my place by this man.
Or, really, by two men.
Because as soon as Callum pushes down his briefs, freeing his gorgeous shaft and rubbing it against my lips, making me moan, the door chimes.
“I’ll get it,” I say.
He shakes his head. “No, Ivy. That’s my job. You stay on your knees where you belong right now.”
I shudder and say yes.
He pulls up his briefs, then grabs his pants and puts them on quickly. He cuts across the carpet to the door, peering out the peephole.
Satisfied, he opens it.
“Let’s get this party started!” Stone calls out.
As he strides in, I catch a glimpse of Jackson turning away, heading down the hall.
He’ll be guarding all three of us tonight.
Then the door closes, and the rest of the show begins.
17
IVY
First things first.
Another drink.
Stone knocks back half the glass in seconds, declaring it delish.
I watch them from my spot on the floor, on my knees, still fully clothed and wearing Callum’s tie.
Stone gazes at me, smiling a satisfied grin. “Hot AF.”
“Same to you.”
“Are we going to finish what it looks like you started here?” Stone asks.
Callum crosses the carpet to me and threads a hand through my hair. “I bet you want us in your bedroom. So you can lie back on your luxurious sheets, your soft pillows, your massive bed. Am I right, beautiful?” It’s a question, but the man knows he’s got it in one.
Still, I answer anyway. “The bedroom,” I say, thinking of what I left waiting on the covers.
We make our way there, Stone shedding his T-shirt and jeans as we go. And once we arrive, I stand in front of the bed with both men, regarding the display.
It’s not much, but I left out some playthings for tonight—a purple vibrator and lube.
I’m thoughtful like that.
Jerking off is easier with lube.
“It’s top-shelf lube, gentlemen,” I say, wiggling my brows, and holy shit. I feel powerful right now.
And it feels so damn good.
It doesn’t feel like a split. I’m not trying to reconcile both sides of me.
It feels true to be saying what I want, telling them what I crave. So, I keep going.
“I want you both to take my clothes off,” I say.
“But leave the tie on,” Callum says, moving behind me, sliding his hands around to my waist, lifting my top from the hem while Stone brings those long fingers—fingers that strummed and played all those epic songs tonight—to the button and zipper on my leather pants.
He unzips me while Callum lifts my top over my head, keeping the tie loosely knotted and in place.
I step out of my heels, but once my pants are off, I slide my feet back into the shoes.
Shoes make me feel powerful. And I’m learning I love the power of my own sexuality, that contradiction between letting them take control and also owning my wants and desires, even knowing what they’re going to do to me, what I’ve asked them to do.
When I’m down to only my black lace bra, panties, and heels, as well as my lover’s tie, I move to the bed as Callum kicks off his pants again.
I sink down in the pillows, staring at my two beautiful men. One is tall and broad; the other is tall and sinewy.
One has short, neatly combed hair.
The other’s hair is wild.
Thick, hard bulges tent their boxer briefs. Both are aroused, ridiculously aroused. Just like me.
I’m soaked here in my lace panties on my bed as the two men stare unabashedly at me.
I turn to Callum, my voice as desperate as my body. “Take my panties off. My bra too. Please.”
“With so much pleasure.”
He comes closer, unhooks my bra, and stops to grab my tits, giving both a rough tug that makes me yelp.
It’s a reminder.
A reminder that there is pleasure and pain.
Dominance and submission.
That I want all of it. That I can have it all.
He tugs my panties down over my knees, my ankles, and he tosses them to Stone, who catches them effortlessly. “She smells incredible,” Callum says to his friend. “Inhale her.”
I heat up even more.
Stone brings the lace to his nose, and moans around the panel of my panties. “Delicious. You’re gonna let me taste you, sweet thing, aren’t you?”
I nod, breathing hard, desire pulsing through me in waves. “But first, I want to see you both naked. I want to suck your cocks.”
And in a heartbeat, their boxer briefs are gone, and two stunning men are climbing onto my bed, one on each side of me.
I rise, kneeling before my two men, my shoes still on, Callum’s silk tie dangling between my breasts. They feel fitting, my twin accessories. Fitting for my wants, and fitting for my heart. But as my eyes swing from the rock star to the bodyguard, from my new friend to my one-night lover, I don’t know where to start.
I’m frozen with indecision. Who do I pleasure first?
A hand slides up my spine. A familiar hand. Warm, big, and comforting. Callum’s fingers reach my hair, sliding into my tresses. I shiver as he tightens his fingers around my locks, then jerks my face to his. He yanks me against his lips, brushes a soft, tender wisp of a kiss on mine, then whispers hotly, “Suck him off while I play with your pussy. Get on your hands and knees now.”
A blinding wave of lust crashes over me as I do what he says.
18
CALLUM
I’m a jealous man.
I just am.
I don’t like others touching what’s mine. I never have.
But I don’t feel an ounce of jealousy as Ivy raises her ass for me, and her chin for Stone.
Envy is not in my vocabulary tonight as I clasp my hands on her gorgeous ass cheeks, spreading them apart, giving me a perfect view of all that glistening pink wetness between her thighs.
Desire rules this moment.
Even as Stone rubs the head of his cock over her lips, even as I tense for a split second, thinking I’ll erupt in a fury of possession—because I want to possess her pleasure.
But as she bows her back, lifting her ass higher, I am overwhelmed with something else entirely. An entirely different emotion.
Certainty.
I slide my hand along her wetness, and she shudders against me. Then she unleashes a keening moan as I stroke my finger across her clit. My dick throbs, aching to get in on the action. But there will be time. Plenty of time.
I push a finger inside her, and she coats me. “Oh, beautiful, you want this so much, don’t you?” I press a kiss to the small of her back.
She nods, her head moving vigorously as she takes in more of Stone.
He lets out a long, appreciative groan, then a hell yes.
“Then I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you everything,” I tell her, working my way down her spine, kissing the top of her ass as I crook a finger inside her, my other hand squeezing her cheek.
I lift my face so I can watch her as I stroke her clit again while Stone thrusts into her mouth.
She cants her hips, pumping against my fingers, moaning against his length.
My God, what a sight. What a wanton, carnal sight.
I lift my free hand from her, then bring it back down, slapping her ass.
She cries out, even with Stone in her mouth.
He grunts.
I groan.
And Ivy rocks against my fingers, the three of us hitting a rhythm, in sync. All of it, the entire filthy, beautiful tableau in front of me, lights me up.
My woman.
My need for her. It takes over my entire being.
“Anything you want, Ivy,” I rasp out. Another raise of my hand. Another swat on her ass. “Anything. I’ll give it to you.”
She rocks faster, like she’s answering me, like she’s saying yes. Like she wants all the same damn things I do.
Her desire kindles a roaring fire in me. She is a woman who deserves a hundred orgasms, a thousand nights of bliss, and all the pleasure in the world.
But more than that, she deserves love.
She deserves someone who will love and cherish and adore all that she has to give.
I’ll start with her first orgasm. Because I can feel her cresting, and since I know what she wants, I give Stone an order. “Pull out while she comes for me. Let her yell. Let her scream.”
He does.
Ivy raises her head and cries out, a long, loud string of “Oh God, oh God, oh God.”
And I know where tonight is going.
But first, the woman takes over once more, flopping to her back. She grins at me, then at Stone.
And she gives her order.
19
IVY
That was expected, but also totally unexpected.
Yes, we scripted it, in the general sense of planning.
Since plans are good for threesomes, it turns out.
But it was unexpected in its intensity.
And the other thing I didn’t expect, but maybe I should have, is how much more I want. How much hungrier that made me.
How ravenous my appetite is.
As I settle into the pillows, regarding the men, I am not frozen with indecision. I know exactly what I want next. Like I’m selecting my choices from a menu.
I raise my chin, my voice a little smoky from crying out so hard. “I want to watch you two touch your cocks. Show me. Jack off to me,” I say as I drop my hand between my legs, sliding my fingers gently through my slippery wetness. I’m still sensitive from my first orgasm. “And I’ll get off to you. Both of you.”
Callum takes the lube, flips open the cap, and drizzles some in his hand. Then he tosses it to Stone, who catches it easily and does the same.
“Gotta love a woman who thinks to bring lube, right, man?”
“Makes this a lot easier,” Callum says, and I love the easy way they are together. I love that they’re completely comfortable with each other, and with me, especially after what we just did—after I gave Stone a half-blow.
Through it all, Callum is still Callum. Strong, determined, passionate. And wanting to give me everything, including a night like this.
And oh, how I love everything so far. Most of all, I love what they’re doing now.
Callum is kneeling next to me, sliding a hand up and down his thick length. His fist is curled loosely, and he takes long, lazy strokes.
Stone is on the other side of me, doing the same. He’s a little rougher, his hand seeming a little tighter.
They both stare at me with hunger in their eyes.
And I swear, I could come without touching myself. Without picking up this vibrator.
I could come from watching this erotic, beautiful sight.
My. Favorite. Thing.
I’m having dessert first, and there’s no shame in the way I’m going to consume all the courses on tonight’s menu.
“Get the vibrator, Ivy,” Callum says, perhaps sensing I want his direction again. “Show us how you get off while you watch us jerk.”
I reach for the silicone beside me, slide it between my legs, and turn it on.
“Oh God,” I gasp the second the broad head touches my wet center.
“Yes,” Stone grunts, gripping himself harder, his lips parting as he watches me find my rhythm.
“Fuck yourself, Ivy,” Callum instructs, and I turn my gaze to him as I slide the vibrator inside, groaning as it fills me.
But the groan, the pleasure, the sensations—they’re all also coming from what I’m seeing.
From the way this man pleasures himself.
From the way he strokes his shaft, how his fingers curl around it, how he grips himself harder, tugs faster.
“Yes, God yes, Callum,” I moan as he picks up the pace. “Love that.”
“I love it too. Love it so much,” he growls, jerking faster, his other hand going to his balls.
I nearly die.
I practically combust.
I’m on fire as he strokes himself furiously while I thrust the vibrator in and out, the butterfly wings fluttering over my clit. I jerk my gaze to Stone, who’s gritting his teeth, breathing out hard.
“You’re so sexy that I’m going to need to slow the hell down,” he says, squeezing the base, staving off an orgasm.
And my God, I want nothing more than for both of them to come on me right now. To come on my stomach, my breasts, my neck.
Maybe even on this tie.
I don’t think Callum cares if this tie becomes collateral damage.
I meet Callum’s eyes. His dark gaze glimmers with passion, with lust, and with something else, something even more powerful—something that I desperately need from him. I part my lips, staring at the man I adore, my eyes wider than they’ve ever been as the pleasure roars through me, pleasure from the sight of him jacking off, from the sweat forming on his brow, and from the way his chest heaves.
And his jaw clenches.
And his fist tightens.
I lose it.
I just lose control, an orgasm hitting me sooner than I expected, crashing over me as I come hard with the vibrator inside me. I cry out as I detonate, the bliss roaring through my body.
When I open my eyes and remove the toy, I find the two of them looking carnal, hungry.
Like animals.
Like predators.
“Go down on her, Stone. Go down on my woman. Eat her pussy and make her come while I fuck her mouth.”
“Oh yes. Oh, hell yes,” Stone says, moving between my legs. “I bet you taste fantastic, Ms. Carmichael.”
The way he says my name like that, how my employees say it, sends a wicked thrill through me.
Yes, I am Ms. Carmichael, the woman who runs this luxury hotel on the Vegas Strip. The same woman who’s about to have her throat owned by the man she loves while his best friend eats her out.
I am one and the same.
20
STONE
She tastes incredible.
Like sugar and salt on my tongue.
Like a poem.
Hell, I could write a song about this woman, and I don’t mean her pussy.
I mean the way she lets go.
It’s a beautiful thing to witness.
As I flick my tongue against her sweet clit, she bows her back, rocking her hips against me.
Part of me is waiting to hear her moans.
But then it registers fully why I’m not.
Because when I look up from the paradise I’m devouring, my best friend is feeding her his cock.
And that’s hot as hell.
The way she takes it.
How she lets out a relaxing breath, opens her mouth wider, and lets him push in.
My dick throbs from the sheer hotness of it, from the way she can handle all of it, from the way she draws him all the way in.
She’s like a champion, how she wraps her hands around his ass and deep-throats him, rocking her hips against me.
And I am in a happy zone.
Just enjoying the hell out of her sweetness on my tongue. I could spend hours here, savoring this woman.
