Celia Kyle - Battered Not Broken Page 6

  His fingers worked her slick passage, thrusting, moving and sliding against that one special motion that made her body writhe in pleasure. The orgasm she'd been coaching and begging her body for burst forth in a tidal wave of sensation washing over her from head to toe, only to recede and rush forth again and again. Like a tightly strung string on a bow, she snapped, her back arching, as she pressed against his mouth and fingers as she screamed his name.

  "Max!"

  His mouth never stopped, his fingers continued. He kept time with her breathing, slowing as she did, allowing her to float languidly down from her orgasm high and back to earth, to his arms. He pressed soft kisses to her thighs, her mound, as she came back to herself. Relaxing into the cushions with a sigh, she whimpered when he withdrew his hand and watched in awe as he licked his fingers clean.

  "Delicious. Thank you, Gilly."

  "Thank me?"

  Max rose up on all fours and crawled over her, pressing his considerable bulge to the juncture of her thighs. She could feel his hardness through his jeans and she felt needy, wanting.

  He pressed his lips to her neck, inhaling as he rained kisses beneath her ear and along her jaw.

  "Yes. Thank you for trusting me and sharing that bit of yourself with me."

  He pulled back, brushing a kiss across her lips, her tongue snaked out, hoping for a kiss, but instead she was met with a hint of her own musk. Her arousal grew anew. Never had she done anything so risqué before. But before she had a chance to search out more of her own flavor on his lips, he lifted his body off of hers and stood next to the couch.

  "Come on, Gilly. Conner and Ronan are almost home, let's get you changed."

  His wicked smile was back and he winked at her before hoisting her body off the couch. Good thing he was doing the walking, she didn't think she'd be able to if she tried.

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  Chapter Seven

  The scent hit him the moment he stepped from the truck. He didn't wait for Ronan to exit Gilly's car, which he'd towed behind the truck. Instead, he strode for the front door, ice and mud shifting beneath his feet as he made a beeline for the cabin.

  The scent—God damn—the smell permeated the air surrounding the cabin, sifting through his clothes to seep into his skin. The scent of Gillian's arousal, like sweet, musky honey, wove through the planks and snuck through the cracks in the door to reach him.

  He'd kill Max. The ass had fucked Gillian while they were out seeing to her car and personal needs. The moment they'd driven off the property he'd weaseled his way into her pants and claimed her. Fucker! They'd agreed, all of them, that the first time anyone made love to their Gillian they'd all be involved by either watching or participating. All of them, or none of them. Their lives would be shared from the first moment, and Max had ruined everything.

  Conner threw the front door open, banging it against the wall with a thud.

  "Max!” He didn't bother with removing his mud-caked shoes. Ronan would have to get over it.

  "Max!” He tried to hold his breath and resist the affects of Gillian's scent on his beast. His cock hardened as he passed the living room, the scent seemed concentrated there. He veered to the right as he searched for his soon-to-be-dead brother, and found him exiting the kitchen, a dishtowel in his hands.

  "What?"

  Conner pulled his fist back and let it fly at Max's face. Unfortunately, Max ducked, causing Conner to swing at air and connect with the wood plank wall. Growling, he followed Max as his brother dashed around the kitchen table, placing it between them.

  "What the fuck, Conner?"

  "You're asking me that question? You ass. You fucked her. You fucked her the minute we were gone...!"

  Ronan raced into the kitchen, sliding across the polished wood floor, the melting snow making the polished flooring slick. He came to a halt near the center of the table.

  "I didn't!” Max threw his hands up. “I swear!"

  "What the fuck do I smell then, asshole?"

  Max had a satisfied, pussy-eating grin on his face and Conner wanted to shred the table to get to him and tear his brother apart.

  "Now, Conner, hear him out.” Ronan, the voice of fucking reason.

  How could he want to hear Max out with the scent of Gillian's arousal and release infused in the very air they breathed? The heavy musk seeped into his pores and beckoned his beast, begging it to claim her. Reason? Hear him out? Maybe after he'd ripped Max to pieces first—teeny, tiny, itsy bitsy pieces.

  "You smell a satisfied woman, but I swear we didn't have sex, Conner. I couldn't, I'd never..."

  "You swear?” He growled, shoving the table into Max's groin. If he had fucked Gillian, he'd still be tender and if he hadn't, he'd still be hard. Conner got satisfaction out of hearing Max's grunt.

  Max clutched his groin, a grimace of pain on his face. He croaked out a response.

  "I swear. I just pleasured her, Conner. I'd never do anything else without you two there."

  Conner ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. Bad idea, Gillian's scent still hung heavily in the air. He needed to get out of the cabin, away from the smell of her arousal and away from his brother's satisfied smirk. He may not have claimed their mate, but he sure as hell did something to her.

  The need to mate or fight rode Conner hard as he stood, staring his brother Max down, but Ronan's words brought him back out of his anger filled haze.

  "Do you really want to do this again? Have another fight with Gillian in the house? You saw how she reacted this morning.” Damn Ronan for being sensible. He really wanted to tear a piece out of Max's hide. Hell, both of his brothers’ hides. They'd gotten to touch her, spend time with her alone and relate to her in ways he had yet to. He wanted his time.

  "You're right.” Conner backed away from the table, shuffling until his back connected with the wall. He leaned his weight against it, taming his beast and calming his heart. He'd come too close to harming his brother—over a woman.

  Once he'd calmed considerably, he raised his head, eyes meeting first Ronan's and then Max's.

  "I'm sorry, Max. I just smelled ... And I'm jealous as hell and my beast..."

  "No sorry needed, Conner. Though, you may have put my equipment out of commission for a while.” Max, ever the joker.

  "Good. More for me later."

  "Not if we tear each other apart first."

  Ronan was right. Their father had warned them about this. The time between finding their center and claiming her could either bring brothers together, or tear them apart.

  "That's not going to happen, Ronan. We won't let it happen."

  "It nearly happened to Dad."

  Conner dropped his head back, thumping it against the wood.

  Max spoke up. “Just because our parents nearly killed one another, doesn't mean we will. We've agreed we won't make love to her without the other's presence, right?"

  "Yeah,” he grumbled. Conner wanted nothing more than to sink into her sweet depths, but he wouldn't. Not without Max and Ronan by his side.

  "So, we won't. If, however, you can stimulate her and get her used to our touch, maybe making love with the three of us, opening her arms to us, won't be so difficult for her. She wasn't raised like us, guys. We need to remember, in her world, three men and one woman are the formula for bad orgy porn.” Max, ever the master of the spoken language.

  Connor pushed away from the wall, yet stared at his feet, trying to figure out where he could go to get away for a while. He needed to get out of the house, away from his brothers, and the temptation of Gillian.

  "Fine.” He knew just the place. He could prepare them for the cold winter's night and work off some of his energy at the same time. “I'm heading out for a while. Be back in a bit."

  Turning toward the back door, he stomped through the house, leaving a trail of mud in his wake. Well, at least he knew what Ronan would be doing while he was gone.

  * * * *

  Gillian pressed her ear to the
door, trying to hear the conversation in the kitchen, but couldn't. She'd heard Conner yelling at Max, but their voices quickly dropped too low for her to make out. When she heard the stomping of boots and back door slam, she figured it was safe to come out. Somehow, she seemed to be the center of arguments between the three men, which could only mean one thing. It was time for her to go.

  Hopefully, they'd fixed her car. If not, she'd be trekking through the snow on foot. She wasn't looking forward to it, but she couldn't come between the three brothers. And if she had to be honest with herself, their tendency toward violence frightened her.

  She opened the door, then leaving the bathroom behind, she padded to the kitchen to find Ronan and Max sitting at the kitchen table. Both men wore grim expressions. Yep, time to go. Gillian wrapped her arms around her waist and cleared her throat to make her presence known.

  "Hey Gilly.” Max held an arm out to her. She wanted to run into his arms, let him tell her it wasn't her fault, she didn't have to leave. She ached to have someone to fall into, instead, she remained rooted to the spot.

  "Gillian?” Ronan stared at her, eyes focused as if he tried to read her mind. She dropped her eyes to the floor.

  "I'm, uh, leaving.” She heard a startled “what” from Max, but Ronan must have quieted him. Neither man said anything else. She kept her eyes glued to a knot in the wood floor. “I appreciate your hospitality. If you could just tell me where my clothes are, I'll leave."

  Tears burned in the back of her eyes, but she didn't dare look at the two men. She'd lose it completely if she did. Never before had she met such caring, compassionate and tender men in her life. Too bad they couldn't treat each other with the same caring and compassion she received from them. Love shouldn't come with a fist attached.

  "Gillian, sit down.” The sound of wood scraping on wood filled the silence in the room and gentle hands wrapped around her shoulders, steering her toward the chair. “Please?"

  Before Ronan could seat her, she buried her face in his chest, sobbing into his shirt. She didn't want to leave, didn't want to walk out into the cold, to her death. But she couldn't stay and watch them tear each other apart either. Max had said they wouldn't be mad and yet the three men had argued. She presumed it had been about her.

  Once she started, tear after tear poured from her eyes, her body wracked with sobs. She cried for every beating Kyle had given her, for every scrape on her body from her trek through the snow and for every piece of her heart she'd already given the three brothers. Ronan pressed his lips to her temple before her feet left the ground. The trust she had in him prevented her from squealing as she had every time before.

  Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling closer to him as he settled her on his lap. One hand stroked her head, while the other stroked her thigh and hip. The addition of two more hands didn't startle her a bit. She assumed Max had joined in comforting her.

  God, she'd turned into a weepy female, the worst kind of woman according to her mother. Drying her eyes on Ronan's shirt, she looked from one set of concerned eyes to another.

  "I really am leaving."

  "No, you're not.” Would Ronan always argue, she wondered.

  "Max said you wouldn't be angry, but you three were shouting.” Fiery heat burned her face and she imagined the blush covering her cheeks could light her way at night. “I can't stay and tear you three apart and I can't seem to not want,” Lord, let the floor swallow her whole before she admitted her feelings, “to touch all three of you.” Too late.

  Max leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the tip of her nose before he spoke.

  "We weren't arguing. Well, we were, but not for the reason you think. Conner thought you and I had gone farther than we did and he thought I'd broken a promise. That's why he was angry, poppet. He's also jealous as hell."

  "All three of us care for you, Gillian. I told you all this last night, remember?"

  As if she could forget. But Conner? Jealous? She licked her lips and felt Ronan's cock twitch beneath her and she thought she heard Max groan. But, it could have been the house settling. Sure.

  "I don't want to drive a wedge between you three."

  "You won't,” they said in unison, their hands rubbing what she supposed they thought were soothing circles on her body. All their touch served to do was cause her arousal to blossom anew.

  Turning to look into Ronan's eyes, she asked the question sure to cause her a premature death by mortification, but the question had to be asked.

  "So, you're not angry that Max and I..."

  "What did you and Max do, Gilly?” Ronan's voice was but a whisper as he leaned closer. For a second she thought he'd kiss her, but he nuzzled her cheek and neck instead, his unshaven cheek scratching and teasing her skin.

  Max opened his mouth to speak, but one stern look from Ronan had him snapping his mouth shut. She wondered if she could learn to give those same looks. They could be useful.

  "Gilly?"

  Oh, damn. She'd hoped he had forgotten his question.

  "Max, uh, he, um...” Gillian took a deep breath, before she told Ronan what they'd done. “Max sort of tore my pants and he kissed me, you know, there."

  "That's all?"

  She buried her face against his chest and nodded. Yep, death by embarrassment could come any minute now.

  Ronan pressed his lips to her temple and whispered against her skin, his breath fanning and warming the side of her face, causing a shiver.

  "There's nothing wrong with what you did with Max, Gilly. Nothing at all. I'm just jealous, and I have a feeling Conner is even more so since he hasn't touched you at all. He hasn't gotten a kiss, or gotten to taste your sweet cream. That's what we fought about, Gillian. Conner wants to make sure we don't take advantage of you or force you to do anything you don't want, and he's cranky because he hasn't spent much time with you alone."

  "Oh. Lord, take me now."

  Suddenly, she was lifted into Max's arms and thrown over his shoulder with a smack to her ass. This time, she did squeal, like a pig. Thumping her fists to his lower back, she screamed at him.

  "What are you doing?"

  "You said ‘take me now', so I'm taking you. Where do you want to go? The bedroom?” Max brought one hand up and squeezed her ass, causing her to wiggle and squeal again. Part of her wanted to scream “yes", while the other knew there were some things still to be sorted out. Most importantly, Gillian wanted to know if Ronan had spoken the truth and there seemed to only be one way to figure out if he had.

  "How about wherever Conner is?"

  Her question must have stolen the wind from his sails. He pulled her off his shoulder, seating her on the kitchen table.

  "He's still pretty riled, Gilly, you sure you want to go see him now? You can wait till he's calmed down..."

  "Nope. Ronan, you got me some new clothes in town, right?"

  "Yeah,” he grumbled. He didn't seem to like her idea any better than Max. Too bad.

  "Well, give me my new clothes and point me in the right direction."

  "You sure about this, Gilly?"

  "Yes, I'm sure. If he's not mad at me and only upset because we haven't spent time alone together, well, this is his chance to say so and get some.” Lord, did she just say that? “TIME! It's his chance to get some time."

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  Chapter Eight

  Dressed in her new jeans, layered flannel shirts, jacket and boots, Gillian set off into the snow-covered wilderness, leaving two very unhappy men behind. They'd pointed her in the right direction, mumbling about being careful and to stay on the path, the whole time looking like little kids who'd had their candy stolen. Tough, it was high time she made decisions for herself and got used to confrontation. It seemed her life with these three men would be full of it.

  The thought made her stop dead in her tracks and lean against a tree. Had her thoughts really wandered there? Was she considering staying with the three brothers? No. Good, moral women didn't
do things like live and love three men. Love? No, it wasn't love either. Affection, maybe. Like, and a connection, sure. But love? Nope, it was too soon to be love.

  She wasn't trudging through the snow, opening her body up to new aches and pains for love. She wanted to make sure Conner wasn't mad and was okay. And maybe spend some time with him alone to see if they had a connection like she did with Ronan and Max. Damn. She really must have a “slut” tattoo somewhere on her body.

  Gillian pushed away from the tree, continuing her journey to God only knew where. They'd told her it was a few hundred yards away, but she felt like she'd walked that far and a few thousand more. Oh well. One foot in front of the other—she'd done it before—she trudged through the snow-filled mud. At least this time, her body wasn't wracked with shivers and shooting pains as she walked. The clothes Conner and Ronan had purchased kept her body relatively warm and comfortable, even in the freezing temperatures.

  Eyes glued to the ground, searching for the trail the brothers had convinced her could easily be seen, she ran straight into a tree, bumping her head on the trunk. The collision knocked her flat on her ass. She landed with a grunt.

  So much for following the path.

  She wiped the snow and bark debris from her hair, her fingers came away smeared in blood. Now they'd never let her out of the house by herself. After a few minutes, the bleeding seemed to stop and she hoisted her body from the ground. Ass soaked from sitting in the snow, she looked around, trying to find the trail. She couldn't see the “unmissable” trail, but could hear the gurgle of water in the distance. Hoping the sound came from the river the brothers had said Conner liked to sit near, she took off at a slow plod toward the noise.

  Coming through the trees, she found Conner just where Ronan and Max said he would be—sitting on a twenty-foot high natural outcropping of rocks along the river's edge, staring into the water. The sound of the water muffled her approach, and he didn't turn to look at her until she'd nearly crawled onto the mound next to him. When he did notice her, he acted as if the world was coming to an end.