And she’d basically said yes.
She pressed her face into her pillow and groaned. Shit.
What the hell had she gotten herself into? She’d already decided that she wasn’t meant for real-life kink that night at the party. But when Ren had looked at her with all that open want it’d been too potent of a rush.
I want you in my bed. I want you beneath me.
Those hadn’t been his exact words but that’d been the meaning. For the first time in her life, she’d felt not only desirable but powerfully sexual. Not because she looked like Lenore. Not because she’d put on some phony act to impress a guy. But by being who she was. Without planning to, she’d shown Ren the version of herself that was most authentic, peeling back the curtains and showing the tender spots. And she’d seen it in his eyes. Ren Muroya had wanted the tomboy geek girl in the combat boots. It hadn’t been an act. That attraction had rolled off him like a heat wave, making the air between them ripple with awareness.
And in that moment, she’d felt that gut-level ache to give in to it, to give him the control, to see where all that charged desire led them. She’d wanted to stick a white flag in the ground and surrender.
She could see it then in her head. Her saying yes. Ren pushing her into the backseat of her car, pinning her down, telling her exactly what he was going to do to her and how much she was going to like it.
Guh. She shifted onto her back in bed, her body restless and way too warm all of a sudden. What would have happened if she’d invited him home tonight? Would he be here now, putting her on her knees or bending her over the bed? Would he tie her up? Spank her? How would it feel to have that beautiful body of his draped over her, his cock sliding into her?
Her sex clenched at the thought and she groaned. It’d been almost two weeks since she’d touched herself. She usually reserved that for nights with Dmitry, but the game had been down. And right now, there was only one man in her head and he was flesh and blood, not a cartoon character, not an imaginary ideal.
Ren, with his dark eyes and wicked smile. Ren, whose hands were talented enough to create entire universes from his imagination. Ren, who’d let her watch him command another woman.
The last thought should’ve rankled, but it only dialed her temperature up more. Watching him take control had been one of the hottest experiences of her life. That taste of the forbidden shared among them all. What would that be like for real? To have all players in on the game?
Without reaching for it, the thought of Hayes slipped into her head. He’d said he and Ren had shared women once upon a time. When he’d admitted that, her libido had given her a hard kick, one completely inappropriate for the conversation at the time, but potent nonetheless.
Ren and Hayes were intimidating and sexy on their own, but together? Jesus. Could a woman even survive that? And how did it work? Did they pass the woman back and forth? Take her at the same time? Mouths and hands everywhere? Or did the guys touch and stroke each other, too?
Oh, fuck. Her brain tried to implode at that erotic thought and her sex turned into a pounding fist between her legs. Demanding. Insistent.
Cora gave up the fight and let her hand slide down her body, pressing where she was now throbbing and wet. She traced her fingers over the thin fabric of her panties, closing her eyes, and imagining Ren’s hands there, Hayes’s mouth. Or maybe both of their mouths, tongues tasting her and each other. What would it feel like to give over to them so completely? To get lost in all that desire?
Sensation curled through her as the fantasy played out in her head like a movie. She was back at work. But instead of her going to Ren’s office like she had tonight, Ren and Hayes have come to hers.
She’s at her desk, working, stressed. She doesn’t hear them come in. She doesn’t realize that she isn’t alone anymore until hands slide onto her shoulders.
She jolts but doesn’t move. She can smell Ren’s scent, knows it’s him.
He squeezes her shoulders. “Going for Employee of the Year in your first week, Benning?”
Her heart picks up speed at the simple touch, the sound of that smooth voice against her ears. “Is there a prize for that?”
“Yes, but you’re going to need to do a lot more than this to earn it,” says Hayes. “We don’t give out rewards easily. You may have to work all night.”
She swallows, closes her eyes, nerves and anticipation in her belly. “I think maybe I should go home.”
“I didn’t ask you what you think.” Ren spins her around in her chair and pulls her to a stand. His eyes have that dark sparkle. The look from the party. And Hayes is right behind him, standing there like a stoic bodyguard, an immovable force. “You’ve stayed late. There’s no one else here and there’s still work to be done. Maybe if you do a good job, we’ll let you leave.”
“You can’t make me stay here.” The words come out in a rush, but in her gut, she feels that flurry of excitement, the appeal of the danger. She’s at the mercy of these two men.
Ren smiles. “Of course we can. We’re the only ones with the key to get out. And I don’t feel so inclined to give you that key yet.”
She closes her eyes. “What do you want for it?”
“I can think of a few things. I’m sure Hayes can, too.”
“Oh, I’ve got quite a list,” Hayes says.
“I want to leave.”
Ren’s hand slides down her hip and then finds the button on her jeans. He slowly drags down the zipper and steps behind her. “No you don’t. Maybe we should let Hayes get a little peek of how bad of a liar you are.”
Her eyes meet Hayes’s stare. There’s fire burning there. The desperate need of a man who doesn’t let himself off leash anymore.
Then Ren’s tugging her jeans over her hips. The cool air hits her hot skin as her panties are exposed to them both. Her legs are trapped together at the knees and Ren’s fingers are tracing down, down, down until he finds her heat. Her obvious arousal gives her away. The blatant wetness staining the cotton fabric. She wants this. They both know it. Ren shoves her underwear aside and plunges two long fingers inside her.
She cries out from the shock and the pleasure of it.
Hayes’s stare hasn’t left her body and now he reaches down and adjusts the erection growing behind the fly of his jeans. He steps forward and crouches down to tug off her jeans. The panties are yanked away with them.
Now she’s bared and spread, Ren’s tan fingers disappearing into her cunt as Hayes kneels in front of the two of them, his gaze riveted on the slick state of her.
“I need to taste her,” Hayes says in that gruff voice he has. “Spread her open for me.”
Ren guides her back at that and sits on her desk, dragging her onto his lap and hooking her ankles with his. He spreads his legs, forcing hers to open like a book—a very X-rated book. The hard state of Ren’s cock is pressing into her backside and she can’t help but rub her ass against it. She needs some relief. She needs something.
But she doesn’t have to wait long because Hayes moves forward and braces his hands on her thighs. Ren’s fingers stroke her labia, displaying her for Hayes. “Look how fucking sexy she is.” He spreads her obvious arousal over her flesh. “You’re so needy for this, aren’t you? Such a dirty girl. Taste her, Fox.”
Hayes leans forward and drags the hot flat of his tongue over her sex, catching Ren’s fingers along with them. She watches the scene from above, all three of them connected, and her body floods with heat.
Cora bit her lip and moaned in the quiet of her bedroom. The fantasy was spinning into vivid pictures without help and her body was rocketing too fast toward orgasm. She backed off, wanting to drag it out a little more, and reached blindly into the drawer of her bedside table. When she got a hold of the dildo she’d purchased at Dmitry’s suggestion, she kicked off her panties, and brought the toy between her legs. She needed the pressure. Nee
ded to be filled. Needed an ounce of what it might feel like to have these two men sharing her. She pushed the smooth silicon inside her slick entrance and closed her eyes, letting herself fall back into the fantasy.
“Yes, that’s good, baby,” Ren says against her ear. “You’re going to be a very good girl for us. And then, you’re not going to want to leave. You’ll be begging to stay. Because you know exactly how long you’ve wanted this and how badly we’ve wanted you.” Ren’s hands slide up, palming her breasts and thumbing her nipples. “I can’t wait to watch you ride his cock while you suck mine. Or maybe I’ll suck his first and make you watch.”
Her head tips back against Ren’s shoulder as Hayes’s tongue works magic against her clit. His thick, roughened fingers slide into her as he eats at her with singular focus. And soon Ren is groaning along with her. He adjusts beneath her and opens up the fly of his pants. He’s got no underwear beneath and she feels the hot, silky skin of his cock brush along the crack of her ass. The streak of pre-come along her flesh.
Hayes stops licking her, his fingers still curled inside her. She’s so close, but he’s not going to give it to her yet. He gets to his feet, making Cora lift her head. He takes her face in his big palms, her scent all over him, and kisses her. Hot, wet kisses that taste like sex and need and desire all at once. She gets lost in the kiss, the feel of Ren’s cock sliding against her, and then Hayes is pulling away.
His gaze goes over her shoulder to Ren. “Fuck her, Muroya. And give me her mouth.”
And without consulting her, they’re draping her over the desk, belly down. She’s so close to orgasm, she can barely breathe. But when Ren steps behind her and grabs her hips, all she can do is beg. She needs him.
But before Ren grants her that privilege, Hayes steps in front of her, jeans unzipped and cock in hand. Like the rest of him, it’s big and beautiful. He cups her chin and steps to the edge of the desk. “Suck me.”
And as her lips close over the glossy head of his cock, Ren pushes into her, hot and long and deep. Fucking her across the desk like she’s the most wanton woman in the world.
And she’s loving it.
Cora gasped loudly, her fingers working her clit and her other hand working the dildo. The cool air from her ceiling fan washed over her overheated skin as she imagined Ren and Hayes taking her in the most undignified way possible, making her spread out for them on the desk, using her, making her take both their cocks. Her mouth full of Hayes. Ren deep inside her, his fingers teasing her ass as if marking where he’ll take her next. She rocked her hips as any shred of shame slipped away from her.
The sound of her panted breaths filled the air as orgasm rumbled toward her fast. It usually took her longer to get there. But right now with Ren and Hayes in her head and her fantasy reel set on porn mode, her body careened toward climax.
Her fingers tugged her clit and her back arched.
Come for me, Cora. Show me how badly you needed us to fuck you, how much you crave this.
In her mind, Ren was holding her down, his cock pumping into her hard, and Hayes’s hand was tight in her hair. She cried out, the sound bouncing off the walls of her room, and the men’s names slipped past her lips like a chanting prayer. Hayes. Ren. Hayes. Ren.
For a few seconds, she rode that bliss, got lost in it, and then she was sagging into the mattress, gasping, and covered in a sheen of sweat.
She blinked open her eyes, the darkness and silence surrounding her, the buzz wearing off quickly as it always did. She’d long ago gotten over the shame of masturbation. But there was always a tang of embarrassment over just where her fantasies went sometimes. She wondered if other women had romantic ones, if they imagined flower petals and soft music and lovemaking. Even in her early days of sexual fantasies, hers had never had that flavor. Those imagined scenarios had always drifted into the dirtier zone, getting more filthy as her sexual vocabulary expanded. Kevin had told her she thought like a dude. Maybe she did. Whatever that meant.
She shook off the thought. At the very least, maybe she could sleep now. She got up, made a quick trip to the bathroom, and then collapsed back into bed, pulling the covers over her chilled skin.
She was just starting to doze when her phone dinged.
TWELVE
Cora blinked awake, groaning and cursing at herself for forgetting to turn the ringer off. She reached over to her bedside table and grabbed her phone.
Dmitry: Guess it didn’t work out tonight. Hope you had a good week.
The simple words sent a wash of guilt through her. Shit. She’d messaged Dmitry when the game had gone back online that she’d chat with him tonight. She’d been looking forward to it. Had missed him. She’d completely forgotten.
Because she’d been with another guy. And fantasizing about men who weren’t Dmitry.
Ugh. That sounded awful when she thought about it that way.
Lenore: So sorry. Something came up last-minute.
Dmitry: It’s okay. Life happens. Ferreting out a mafia boss or just another infiltration of a drug cartel?
Cora smiled, but the layer of guilt still lingered.
Lenore: I’m posing as a woman of the night, trying to get the mafia boss to invite me into his secret lair.
Dmitry: Well, damn. I didn’t plan on killing anyone this week. I’ll add him to my list. No one gets to touch you without my permission.
Cora stared at the words. He’d said things like that to her before, and she’d taken it as joking. Part of the game. But was it, really? They’d both told each other they weren’t currently dating anyone. And though they’d never put any labels on things, this had always felt oddly exclusive. But tonight she’d gone out with another man, had gotten off to fantasies of him and his best friend, had agreed to more. Suddenly, that felt like a betrayal.
Ren had made her heart pound tonight and her body stir. It was impossible not to be affected by him. The guy was ridiculously good-looking and charming, and somehow he made her feel comfortable around him. Comfortable and . . . sexy. Desirable. But Dmitry made her feel that way, too. And she had a deeper bond with him. One based on more than simple physical attraction.
They’d never seen each other face-to-face, but they’d talked for hours, had forged a friendship—a relationship. He’d become a big part of her life these last few months. But what did that really mean?
He wasn’t real. Not really. He could be anyone. He could be putting on a show. She was doing that in her own way with how Lenore looked. She needed to remind herself of that. She wasn’t supposed to put her life on hold for something that was a game with a stranger. That’s not what this was supposed to be. So why did she feel so goddamned shitty for forgetting about him tonight?
Dmitry: Still there, L?
She scooted up her pillows, trying to shake off the thoughts and the guilt.
Lenore: Yes. Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind tonight, I guess.
Dmitry: Want to share with the class?
Her thumbs hovered over her phone screen, considering. She should probably keep this light, playful, stick to what they were good at. But she couldn’t help herself. Game or not. Real or not. She couldn’t lie. She and Dmitry had agreed not to share identifying details. But they’d also agreed to be nothing but honest on everything else.
Lenore: It’s been a long week. I guess I’m starting to wonder what this is.
There was a long pause.
Dmitry: This, meaning us?
Us. It sounded right in so many ways. They were an us. But it was an illusion, a relationship hack. A cheat. She wet her lips, nerves trying to overtake her.
Lenore: Yes. I know we’ve been playing a game.
Dmitry: But it feels like more than that.
She blew out a breath. So he saw it, too.
Lenore: Yes. I know that was never part of the plan.
Dmitry: It wasn’t. Doesn’
t mean it’s not true. I’ve missed you like crazy this week. I realize that’s not normal with this kind of thing.
The words touched her. She’d missed him, too. She’d wanted to talk to him about the attack. She’d wanted to share with him about her new project at FoxRen. She’d ached for that kind of late-night, download-your-day chat. That kind of talk you had with your lover. But of course, she couldn’t have done those things without revealing too much. And he couldn’t have told her about his day. Not really. And therein laid the problem. He’d become the man who knew her most personal secrets but nothing about her life. They were lovers and friends and absolute strangers. And she had no idea what to do with that. She had feelings for a stranger. Dangerously real feelings.
And she’d agreed to go on a date with Ren.
She breathed through the squeezing sensation in her chest.
Lenore: I’ve missed you too.
Dmitry: I wish voice chat was working. I feel like there’s more you want to say. It’s okay, L. Tell me what’s going on.
Her throat felt tight.
Lenore: This is starting to affect real-life things and I’m not sure what to do with that.
Dmitry: Like?
Cora chewed her lip, contemplating, and then typed.
Lenore: I met a guy. Nothing’s happened yet but it feels like something could.
Dmitry: And you want it to.
Lenore: . . .
Dmitry: Honesty, L.
She exhaled, the truth heavy in her gut.
Lenore: Yes.
Dmitry: Is he dominant?
Lenore: Yes.
Nothing appeared on the screen for a good long while, her response glaring there in black and white. But finally words popped up.
Dmitry: Is he a decent guy?
Lenore: I think so.
Dmitry: That’s good, L. You deserve more than what I’m able to give you over the phone and in the game.
The response surprised her. And even though it was just print on a screen, she sensed a sadness to them. A resignation.