Page 50 of Snowed In with Benefits

His big, strong hands are on my hips now. He grinds, pulling me back against him. He slides inside me and I echo his groan. His powerful strokes are intense and I’m panting in time with them, my voice coming out in little squeaks and moans as he fucks me hard from behind. He massages my ass with one hand.

“God, you’ve got a beautiful ass. Would look better with a handprint on it.”

“Oh, yes,” I breathe, and push back into him hard, in time with his strokes. He spanks me and I almost cry out, but muffle it at the last instant.

“I want to hear you,” he growls.

“Emmett will hear,” I whimper.

“Emmett sleeps like the dead,” he says. “I heard you fucking, but he won’t.”

He spanks me again and I cry out. Hunter groans, he’s closer now, right next to the chair. I look over my shoulder and see him stroking himself as he watches us. A rush of heat roars through me, driving me wild.

“Oh, oh, fuck,” I whimper as it builds inside me. Hunter is jacking off. Beau is slamming into me from behind. I come hard, moaning into the chair, gripping onto the soft fabric for dear life as I shudder and shake, as the buildup and teasing reach a climax that feels like it might undo me. I’ve never come this many times in a row, in a night, ever. I’ve never tried, either. This is all new territory for me and I’m loving it.

It’s different with Beau. Not better, not worse, just different in a way I can feel all the way down to my bones. With Hunter, coming felt like discovery. Like finding a door in a wall I’d been told was solid. Like my body proving to me that it worked, that it wasn’t broken, that all those years of faking and apologizing and redirecting were a lie I’d been sold by men who couldn’t be bothered to learn me. Hunter’s orgasms were a revelation. This one is something else. This one is surrender. Beau didn’t coax me over the edge. He didn’t guide me there with patience and praise. He drove me there, hard and rough and relentless, and I let him. I let go of the steering wheel entirely and trusted someone I barely know to take me somewhere I’ve never been, and the fact that it scared me a little is part of why it felt so good. The fear wasn’t about Beau. The fear was about me. About the version of me that likes being spanked, that likes being told she’s bad, that gets wetter when a man growls at her to be louder. Hunter showed me I could be good and still come. Beau is showing me something harder to swallow: that I can be bad and still be safe. That the filthy, hungry, loud, greedy parts of me aren’t something to manage or apologize for. They’re just mine. And someone can see all of them and still be here, still inside me, still wanting more.

Beau growls. I can feel him expand and pulse inside me, his strokes quickening and then slowing to a steady beat as he comes. Hunter curses and I look and he’s coming again, spilling over his hand and splattering on my hip. It’s hotter than anything I’ve ever experienced.

Beau pulls out, leaving me empty and wrecked. I’m panting, my lungs burning, my belly feeling like I’ve done a thousand crunches, my hips and knees shaking like jelly. Somebody wipes the cum off my body. I slowly kneel onto the chair, collapsing against the back of it, struggling to get my breathing under control.

I hear them cleaning up behind me and something switches on in my brain. I’m kneeling here, completely naked, in a room with two equally naked men, with at least a half-dozen orgasms collected between the three of us. My heart races, and not in a fun way.

I shouldn’t have done this. What am I doing? What kind of slut am I? Preston was right to keep me under control, look at what I’m doing when I’m off his leash. What would Mom think if she knew what I was doing? I shouldn’t have done this. It’s not who I’m supposed to be, I’m supposed to be somebody’s good wife, I’m supposed to be my mother’s child, I’m not supposed to be a wanton whore covered in cum and sore from sex with not one man, but two, men I only met recently.

But I loved it. I loved every second of it. What does that say about me? Even now, the soreness in my body, the slickness between my thighs, Beau’s scent lingering on my skin… all of it is delicious, and I’m almost ashamed of how much I love it.

I’m still shaking, but the shaking is different now as I slowly turn around, sliding off the chair. I can’t look at them, although I can feel that they’re both looking at me. I bite my lip and find my clothes, sloppily scattered across the room the way I sloppily scattered my morals all over the place. I pull them on, then finally work up the nerve to glance at Beau and Hunter. They’re standing between me and the door, still watching me. I start moving, slipping between them.

“You should both forget about this,” I tell them as I pass. “It was a one-time thing, just like we agreed. Pretend it never happened.”

Before they can respond, I’m out the door, closing it behind me. I run quietly to the stairs on the balls of my feet, making as little noise as possible, moving as quickly as I can. I’d take the stairs two at a time if they weren’t sized for men much bigger than me.

My skin is still warm and tingling from their touch as I finally slip into my bedroom.

We can just pretend it never happened.

21

JOSIE

I wake up in the morning buzzing from head to toe. I’m sore in a way I’ve never been before in my life, and I’m still turned on somehow. Despite coming so many times, despite having sex with two men one after the other, I’m still turned on. What’s going on with me?

I shiver at the memory of their hands on me, their cocks inside me, the differences between the way Hunter made love to me and the way Beau fucked me senseless. I’ve never done anything like that before. I’ve thought about it. I’ve thought about it a lot, actually.

There was one time I brought up the idea of a threesome with Preston. Carefully, half-joking, just testing the waters. He shut me down so hard and so fast that I had to backpedal and turn that half-joke into a whole joke. I pretended I wasn’t serious. I pretended it didn’t matter, that I wasn’t actually interested in it.

But I was. It’s always been there, that secret want, that desire to have sex with multiple people, to be watched, to be loved on by more than one person at a time. I shut it down in myself, then Preston shut it down for me, but it’s always been there. Wanting. Waiting. Last night it all came to a head so fast I couldn’t keep up with it, couldn’t shut myself down before experiencing it.

It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Once in a lifetime. Never again. My heart thuds at that thought, even though I’m the one who set up that agreement. Even though I know it’s the right thing to do, there’s still a beat of disappointment in my veins.

I wonder if Emmett heard anything. I know they said he sleeps like the dead… but what if he heard something? What if he woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom or something? What if my cries weren’t as muffled as I thought they were?

If he did hear something, I’m going to have to face him. Whether he heard something or not, I’m going to have to face Hunter and Beau. Groaning, I pull a pillow over my face and let it cool the burn. How am I going to face them? This is going to be so awkward. The sex was hot and filthy and raw and now I’m going to have to sit across from them at breakfast like a normal person.

I can’t sit in the dreadful anticipation forever. I get up and put on some clothes, Hunter’s clothes that have been washed and dried since the episode with the deer at the creek. Wearing them feels right in a way that almost feels wrong, and I can’t figure out how to feel about it at all.

Once I’m dressed, I creep out of my room and down the hall, trying to be quiet. I need the bathroom. I need coffee. It’s time for me to be up and act like a person, but I’m not ready for a confrontation. Not yet. I head downstairs and quickly, quietly, use the bathroom.