Chapter Twelve
To say she whipped them was an understatement. There were moments where she wondered if they had let her win—they weren’t not smart, that was for certain—but a win was a win, and she needed this.
The rule was that every time they lost, they had to write down an item of clothing they were going to remove. And they thought she was the one who was going to have to strip for them.
Surprise.
She held the slips of paper in her hand, with their names written on each slip and the list of clothes they had to remove.
“Well, you best get to it,”
she said. They rose from the round table like gods, all sexy and muscular and too gorgeous for words.
Then they slowly started to take off their hoodies, then their long-sleeved t-shirts. She started to wonder if she had made the right decision to agree to a game of strip poker when it should have been straight-up poker instead.
Their boots came off next. Socks. They unbuckled their jeans. Zips were pulled down. Jeans shrugged off. The cabin became too hot. She should have stuck to the original plan.
What was her original plan?
Oh, she was going to bundle up their clothing, give them their keys, and send them on their way out of her life, completely.
But she couldn’t think straight.
They were completely naked before her. Her gaze slid down their sleek, muscle-riddled bodies, four rows of abs for each of them. Tattoos that crept up their arms and slithered over their magnificent chests.
They were pure male beauty. There were no other words for them.
They took their cocks in their hands and pumped, keeping their gazes fixed on her lips. She, in turn, slid her eyes down to the heads of their shafts and swallowed at the glistening wetness of the pre-cum.
“Come here, pretty lady, and you can do whatever you want to with us.”
She whipped her attention up to their faces.
God help her. She shouldn’t have done that. Looking at the perfect symmetry of their jawlines, their lips, their eyes...
She was entranced. Her body roared with need. Her mouth salivated as if she hadn’t been fed ever. And it was true.
She’d been a twenty-seven-year-old virgin just to prove her mother wrong, that she could succeed without spreading her legs.
But now, with them, everything changed.
Adrienne rose from her chair slowly. Unsure, but desperate.
Dressed uneventfully in beige track pants and a body-hugging sweater, she lowered herself to her knees in front of them.
Quivering, she reached out with one of her hands and brushed her fingertips across all three of their cocks. She gasped as they thickened and twitched. Not asking for permission, propelled only by the need to know what they would feel like on her tongue, she parted her lips and guided Emerson's cock into her mouth. She laid him on her tongue and watched him growl softly as she sucked on him. He threaded his hand into her hair and said her name as if he knew her from before.
She did the same to Darien, keeping her eye on him, curious to see his reaction as she placed him on her tongue and then suckled on him just once, just for a taste. Cupping both her cheeks, Darien threw his head back. Her name spilled from his lips like a deep, agonized chant as she tasted his pre-cum.
She released him, and taking Austin’s cock into her hand, she slowly slid his thickness onto her tongue and then closed her mouth around his width. She pulled until drops of his pre-cum coated her whole mouth.
Stroking her cheek while his cock thickened even more in her mouth, Austin whispered her name with the same familiarity that Emerson and Darien had used when they said her name.
She had no idea why she kept thinking that. Did they really know her? No. She would know if she knew them. It would be impossible not to be aware of any one of the three of them. But soon, her greed for more obliterated all her sanity.
Taking them in her hands, she licked, sucked, and stroked until she was forced to take a breath. She traced their veins with her tongue and her fingers. She pumped until fresh pre-cum glistened from their heads, and then she coated their essence down the length of their shafts only to lick it all up again.
She played with them until her jaws ached. She took them down into her throat until she gagged, and then she did it again until she learned to breathe properly.
They roared at her and warned her they were going to come, pulling at her hair when she wouldn’t listen.
“Please,”
she begged.
“I want you to come in my mouth. Please.”
Then she’d tell them to leave.
“Ah, fuck.”
Their collective defeated grunts made her glow. She sucked on them eagerly. She took them deeper down her throat and left them there until tears slid from her eyes.
She felt their balls tighten. Their bodies stiffen. Their cocks hardened even more.
First Austin. He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers as he spilled into her mouth, filling her with his copious cum and forcing her to breathe properly, or she risked choking on his essence if she swallowed it all in one go. And yet, by kissing her fingertips, he made her feel as if she were a precious flower.
Darien was next. He warned her not to swallow immediately. He wanted to see her mouth flooded with his cum before she swallowed. She obeyed him and then relished in his praise when he finally allowed her to swallow, calling her the hottest woman on the planet.
Emerson wrapped his hand around her throat and squeezed as he ejaculated deep into her mouth. He shuddered so sexily every time she swallowed the ribbons of his cum that she milked every last drop from him so she could experience it again.
Embarrassed at her ungraceful display of greed for them, Adrienne rose shakily to her feet. They reached for her, but when her phone rang, she was startled back to reality. What was she thinking? Clumsily she reached for her phone, using it as a lifeline to cover up the wanton mess they had turned her into.
With her back to them, she stared at the caller ID. She kept his number because she wanted to know if it was him when he called her. The heat she had nursed from touching them morphed into frost. She started to tremble.
“Adrienne?”
As if she were underwater, she heard her name being called.
By the time they reached her, they had already pulled their jeans back on. Emerson took the phone from her hands.
She had never seen them with their faces etched with so much fury, and she couldn’t understand why.
“Answer it,”
Emerson ordered her. She looked up at him wildly. Why would he want her to answer it? “Answer the call, Adrienne.”
The tone he used with her left no room for argument.
She connected the call. Her heart threatened to explode from her chest, but not in a good way.
“My darling wife,”
Desmond Morton said on the other side.
“I’m not your wife anymore, Desmond. We’re divorced.”
“You can never be divorced from me, my wife. You were meant to be mine until your last breath. Your divorce is just a piece of paper.”
“What do you want?”
“Ah, glad you asked. I would like to invite you to a ball I’m hosting at my house. I’ll send you the details. It’s tomorrow night. Oh, and you can bring your three bodyguards with you if it will make you feel any better. And wife, if you want me to give you back that thing you so desperately want back, you’ll make sure you show up, or I’ll throw it into the fire.”
She wanted to throw up.
“I look forward to having you on my arm again, Adrienne, and in my bed. We never got to consummate our marriage, and prison was lonely, to say the least. Like I said, your little divorce means nothing. We are still married, and I will fuck you, my bride, to make up for lost time.”
His laugh was the last thing she heard before she crumbled to the floor.