Devour Me. Lydia Parks
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if you were raised in a place like this, you didn’t even know there were people out there living in cardboard boxes.
“Your ancestor, the captain, was he the one who built this house?”
“Aye.”
“How did he end up here?”
Benjamin studied her long enough to make her uncomfortable, then rested his pipe on the mantle, turned, and sat on the edge of his desk. “He was shipwrecked on the rocks just beyond the point, and nearly lost his life. No others survived. The captain was nursed back to health, and could never bring himself to leave. He started building the house a year later.”
“Who nursed him?”
“No one knows for certain.”
She searched the portrait for any sign of tenderness in the captain’s cold black eyes. “So, maybe it was some Native American woman who helped him and he fell in love with her. Maybe this place is the result of a fairy tale romance.”
She glanced at the modern Benjamin, who watched her intently with identical black eyes. Heat rushed through her and she swallowed hard. “Too bad fairy tales aren’t real.”
Dragging air into her lungs, she turned toward the door. “I guess I better see if the others are back.”
“They are,” he said.
She took one more look at him and nodded, then left the room.
Once she was hurrying down the dark hallway, she realized her hands were shaking and she couldn’t quite catch her breath. The man had a strange effect on her. Working hard to calm her nerves, she continued to the first floor and found it, too, dark.
“Wendy? Jack?”
A hint of music drew her toward one of the guest rooms where she found the three. Wendy had hooked up her MP3 player to tiny speakers and had strip music vibrating off the walls. Star closed the door behind her.
Wendy, dancing in front of the fireplace, winked at Star before turning her back on the two men. She was already down to her T-shirt, thong, and heels, and slowly, teasingly, drew her shirt up to her shoulders.
Jack lay back on one elbow, rubbing the bulge in the front of his jeans, and Kyle groaned.
Star sat in an armchair in the corner.
Wendy had wonderful skin, smooth and lightly tanned. The tat just above her butt was actually well done, not heavy-handed like the usual tramp stamp. And the woman knew how to move. Back at the Kitty Klub, she’d been the highest grossing stripper. No doubt Bud was missing her about now. He’d probably lost half his business when Wendy took off.
Her long, fluid movements in time with the music were perfect as she pulled off her shirt and dropped it to the ground. Then she turned, her breasts squeezed between her arms, and leaned over as she ran her hands down the front of her thighs and back up the insides. Her parted lips and heavy eyelids suggested she was halfway to an orgasm already.
“Oh, shit,” Kyle moaned. He reached inside his pants to straighten his swelling prick.
Wendy hooked her thumbs in the sides of her thong, stretched it out, and wriggled it down her legs a little at a time.
“Yeah, baby, take it off,” Jack said.
She stepped out of the thong and shot it like a rubber band at Jack’s face. He laughed.
Wendy used the post at the corner of the bed like a strip-club pole, straddling it and riding slowly up and down with the beat.
Kyle shed his pants and then his shirt and patted the bed beside him. “Come on, Wen. Let’s get to the contact phase of this dance.”
Wendy raised one foot and placed it on Kyle’s leg, exposing her pussy to his view and marking his skin with the spike heel. Ignoring the spike, he reached out, grabbed her ass, and planted his face in her crotch. Grinning, she pushed him away.
“Damn, that smells good enough to fuck,” he said.
“To you, everything smells good enough to fuck,” Jack said.
Kyle shrugged and lay back to watch and stroke his cock.
Wendy danced in front of Jack as she raised his shirt off over his head. Then she turned and moved her ass inches over the top of his pants. He caressed her firm butt. She turned, pushed him to his back, and unzipped his jeans, and his thick cock sprang free.
Keeping the beat, Wendy leaned over and ran her tongue around the head of Jack’s cock, leaving it wet and harder. Jack’s body jerked with involuntary movements.
Something about the way Wendy controlled the situation turned Star on. She slipped her hand under her shirt, messaged her tightening tits, and pinched the sensitized nipples.
Wendy took Jack’s cock into her mouth, sliding her bright red lips down the length of the shaft.
“Hey,” Kyle said. “Where do I fit in?”
Wendy rose, grinning, and climbed up on the bed. On her hands and knees, she looked back at the redhead and slapped her own ass. “Right here.”
As Kyle worked his way into Wendy’s pussy, she slid her mouth back down Jack’s prick.
Star swallowed hard. She’d never watched like this before.
Finally buried, Kyle gripped Wendy’s hips and held her up close. Wendy groaned and raised her ass higher.
The music changed tempo to something slow and steady, and the three moved in time with it. Kyle withdrew halfway as Wendy raised her mouth up to the tip of Jack’s prick, and then both cocks disappeared again.
Star slid her hand down the front of her pants to her clit, easily finding juices to lubricate her fingers. As the fucking continued, punctuated with groans and grunts, her clit swelled with need and she rubbed it harder.
Kyle’s arm and shoulder muscles bunched and his buttocks clenched with each stroke, and he closed his eyes. Jack fondled Wendy’s puckering nipples as his prick reached full size, slick and hard.
Star closed her eyes and imagined the feel of big, strong hands around her waist, gripping her and pulling her back against a massive cock, slick with her juices and aching for her. She felt hot breath on the back of her neck.
“Oh, fuck,” Kyle groaned. “This feels too good.” He broke the rhythm, pounding flesh to flesh.
Star leaned her head back and rubbed her clit faster until everything tightened. She imagined a mouth crushed to hers, hands touching her flesh, urgent thrusts, a hard body. Pulling a nipple, she slid three fingers into her pussy. Spasms squeezed her drenched fingers, and she bit her bottom lip to remain quiet as release swept over her.
When she opened her eyes, she found Kyle lying on his back and Wendy riding Jack, her hands splayed on his chest.
As she watched Wendy approaching a climax, Star realized with a start whose hands she’d fantasized about, whose mouth and hard body.
Benjamin.
She drew her hand from her pants and swallowed hard. Why in the hell had she fantasized about him? He wasn’t even close to Brad Pitt.
Wendy’s head dropped forward and she grunted with each thrust as she came. Jack’s hips rose up from the bed as he matched her movements, groaning with pleasure. Finally, Wendy collapsed to her side and lay on her back between Jack and Kyle. The music continued on with its raunchy beat.
Star rested her head against the back of the chair and recalled the way Benjamin had looked at her when he discovered her in his study. He was angry for sure and surprised, but there was more, a touch of something like fear in his eyes. What could he possibly be afraid of?
Benjamin sipped whiskey and watched flames crawl over the newest log. At least the blasted music had stopped. He’d noticed it when he first rose and realized his house guests were still in residence. It was cheap music,