Stay With Me(11)

Rhys’ hands spread her further open as Logan replaced his finger with his rigid cock. He probed delicately at her entrance, pushing inward with infinite patience.

For a long moment, her body denied him, but he persisted until finally she gave way, and he sank inside.

She went rigid in their arms as she fought the bombardment of physical sensations. She was stretched tight around both their cocks. Her ass burned as Logan started moving, but soon the pain seeped away, replaced by a coil of pleasure, one that bloomed and grew larger as he became more demanding in his movements.

Rhys moved his hands to her hips as Logan grasped her ass. In practiced rhythm, they moved, one forward, one back, filling her, thrusting, harder, deep.

Her breath caught in her throat when Logan withdrew with agonizing slowness. He paused at the rim, the head of his penis just inside her opening. Then he surged forward, burying himself to the hilt.

No work up, no long, slow build to orgasm. She came apart in their arms as the world exploded around her. They didn’t stop, though, and instead of fading, her release continued, almost painful as it was prolonged.

On the fringed of her first, a second loomed, taking off where the first one ended.

“Rhys! Logan!”

“We’ve got you, baby,” Logan said from above. “Never doubt that. We’ve got you.”

She leaned into Rhys, panting for breath as her orgasm screamed through her body. His mouth latched onto her nipple, sucking avidly as a lightning storm blew through her veins.

Rhys trembled and then shouted hoarsely. He surged upward, and then she felt a rush of warmth.

Still, Logan pumped against her, his hips slapping against her ass.

He reached down, threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled upward, forcing her head back as he continued to thrust forcefully into her.

Rhys slipped from her pu**y, and instead of moving, he reached down and slid his fingers across her clit. She jumped in reaction, his touch magnified by her orgasm.

“Come for us again, Cat,” Rhys instructed as he stared up at her.

Logan tugged harder at her hair as Rhys pinched her clit between his fingers.

“I can’t,” she gasped. “Hurts.”

Rhys put his other hand up to her jaw then moved his fingers to trace her lips. “It’s the sweetest of hurts,” he murmured.

“Give it to us,” Logan growled. “I won’t stop until you come for us again.”

Rhys’ hand moved from her face, down to her br**sts. He twisted her ni**les just enough to give the slightest hint of pain. Already ultrasensitive from her pregnancy, the added stimulation was gasoline on the fire. She shuddered violently, shaking and trembling like a tree in a windstorm.

The dual sensation of Rhys’ fingers plucking her ni**les and her clit and Logan thrusting furiously into her ass was more than she could take. She gave an inarticulate cry as her release flashed upon her with the speed and intensity of a freight train.

She lost all sense of time and place. She hovered on the verge of consciousness, Rhys’ face swimming below her. Sharp, vivid colors burst in her vision. And then she was falling. Faster and harder.

She slumped forward. She was vaguely aware of Rhys catching her, of Logan’s hands surrounding her. Her cheek met the warm skin of Rhys’ chest, and her eyes fluttered closed.

Chapter Six

Catherine awoke in the still of the morning, when all was quiet and faint light shone around the curtains. She listened hard and could hear the roar of the ocean in the distance.Hard arms lay over her body, and muscular legs twined with hers. And for a moment, she lay there, simply absorbing the warm contentment of waking in their arms. Their touch was possessive, determined, even in sleep. She gazed at Logan, his jaw dark with stubble. His hair was mussed, and he didn’t so much as twitch in his sleep. He looked exhausted.

Carefully, she turned her head to look over her shoulder at Rhys, sprawled out beside her, his hand over her hip, her bu**ocks drawn into his groin.

When was the last time she’d awakened like this? An ache began in her chest, fierce and piercing. They stumbled into bed long after she went to sleep and got up with barely more than a brush of their lips across her forehead. There was no intimacy to their relationship anymore. They coexisted. There was no other word for it.

The longer she stared at them, the heavier her chest became. Quietly, so as not to awaken them, she extricated herself from their embrace and crawled from the bed. Not pausing to shower, she pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, not wanting to be bothered by it.

She left the room, no clear path in mind other than she wanted to find a quiet place to be alone with her thoughts. There were many alcoves set amongst dense, strategically planted foliage. Single tables to allow for privacy were in the little niches, and each afforded a view of the beach.

She chose one as far away from the actual hotel as possible and settled into the chair facing the water. A waiter appeared promptly, and she ordered fruit juice, mourning the fact that she’d given up coffee since learning of her pregnancy.

She felt less anxious here. Calm settled over her as she enjoyed the quietness of the morning and the salty breeze off the ocean. Her life might be a wreck, but for the space of a few moments, she could pretend that she was on her dream vacation having the time of her life.

And it should be the time of her life. She should be celebrating her pregnancy, the five years of her marriage to the men she loved more than anything.