Lora Leigh - Dangerous Pleasure

She should be embarrassed. At the very least, she should be completely outraged, so totally ashamed of herself that she couldn’t look away, and fleeing in fear of her endangered virginity.

She shouldn’t be standing there, eyes wide, her senses so dazed she couldn’t force herself to move, as she watched her half-brother’s half-brother in the act of what appeared to be a very complicated sex position.

A ménage.

She knew what it was called. She knew what it involved. But, Paige had to admit, she hadn’t expected to see the object of her own fantasies involved with one.

She recognized the third, a cousin to the Mustafa family, Tariq. But her entire attention was focused on Abram Mustafa as he lay back on the bed, the woman he was fucking stretched out on top of him, her thighs straddling his hips, her head thrown back to rest against the shoulder of the other male behind her.

The dual penetration was obviously incredibly pleasurable for her. She was moaning, crying out.

Paige dared to allow her gaze to slip down once again, where she could glimpse the glistening, thick erections of the two men penetrating their lover. She swallowed tightly, her heart racing, her senses overloading with the sight, the sounds, the sheer implications of what she was seeing.

The total eroticism of the act drove the breath from her body, and she was still attempting to catch it, even as she fought to find the strength to look away.

She couldn’t.

And she couldn’t decide which she wanted to see more, Abram’s face, twisted into a grimace of sublime pleasure, or the sight of his cock, glistening and slick with his lover’s arousal as he pushed the heavy length home with hard, fierce thrusts.

Paige’s pussy clenched, her thighs tightened. She wanted to moan herself at the sensations suddenly building in her body. She could feel her own juices building between her thighs, easing from her spasming vagina. Her breasts were swollen, her nipples hard and aching, her flesh sensitized as her buttocks tightened at the sight of the engorged cock working itself into the woman’s rear.

She’d never thought of allowing a man to take her there. She’d heard about threesomes. There were rumorsf a certain sect of men in Alexandria and its neighbor, Squire Point, who shared their lovers, their wives—and she’d even heard rumors that her half-brother, Khalid, who she thought of as her brother, was involved with this sect. But, she had never really believed it, until now.

No, Abram wasn’t her brother, and the man sharing the lover he was possessing wasn’t her brother. But, she had also heard that Khalid and Abram had often shared their women after the death of Abram’s first wife, Lessa.

Had Abram and Khalid shared Lessa? No one seemed to know for certain. Now, Paige believed that they had.

Abram shared his lovers.

And he did it so well.

As she watched, his fingers curved around the woman’s breast, lifting it as his head ducked to the hardened, straining tip of her nipple.

He brushed aside a heavy swath of long, rich blond hair with his nose before his tongue reached out, curled around the hard tip, then covered it with his mouth.

“Oh, God. Abram. Yes, fuck me. Fuck me harder.” The woman reached back, one hand clamping to the hip of the male behind her as she cried out for more.

Abram’s cheeks hollowed as he sucked at her nipple, his hands gripped her hips, his hips moved harder, faster, thrusting inside her with hard, even strokes as he began to do just as the girl asked. To fuck her harder, to fuck her deeper.

And she could have imagined much more to say, to cry out, if she were the one sandwiched between the two men.

If she were with Abram. If she was the one causing that look of intense and utter pleasure.

Paige would do anything. She would give whatever he asked to see that look on his face for her.

Biting her lip, she had to fight to hold back a moan as she heard the broken male groan that left his lips as he pulled back from the woman’s breast.

Pulling her head to him, he whispered something in her ear, something that had her crying out his name, her body tightening, a wild cry leaving her lips as she seemed to tense to a point that Paige wondered if she would break.

Her head jerked back as the two men thrust inside her harder, faster. She knew the second they began finding their release.

Or at least, the second Abram found his.

His head tipped back against the pillow, lips tightening, his face contorting into lines of pleasure and pain as he arched tighter into her.

Paige almost orgasmed herself. In the years she had been discovering her own body, she’d never known anything as erotic, as sensual as seeing Abram, imagining he was touching her, filling her with his pleasure.

Her thighs clenched, her fingers balled into fists, and she bit off the need to cry out in feminine fury that she wasn’t the one taking the pleasure Abram was giving.

And if she didn’t get the hell out of there, there would be no way to hide her presence.

She was stepping back, her knees trembling, when his head suddenly turned, his black eyes opening.

As though he knew, or somehow sensed her presence, his gaze zeroed in on her. As she slipped out of the bedroom she saw them narrow as his expression turned sensual once again.

A purely primal, feminine part of her psyche raised its head, previously hidden, unaware, that part of her was suddenly certain that look had been for her, and for her alone.

Rushing into her bedroom Paige closed the door, her hand pressing into the panel as she drew in several hard, deep breaths.

“Abram.” She closed her eyes, his name slipping past her lips in what she recognized was a moment of pure sensual agony.

She was going to have to change her panties. She could feel her juices soaking the thin silk she wore beneath her jeans. Her clit was swollen, demanding attention and the clench of her thighs did nothing to help the pulsing ache centered there.

Paige was tempted to use the toy she had been given by one of her best friends.

It would ease, perhaps, the sensual pain flooding her, but she had been saving that last veil of innocence.

For Abram.

Her hands slipped beneath her white silk oversized blouse to find the hard tips of her nipples beneath the thin lace of her bra.

The touch of her own fingers had a gasp passing her lips. The pleasure was incredible, but still she knew, not as intense as the pleasure Abram would give her.

She cupped the mound and let her thumb stroke against the sensitive tip.

She was aching. So desperate for his touch.

She closed her eyes as a moan whispered past her lips.

Within seconds she had her jeans off and her panties sliding over her legs. She lay back on the bed she kept at Abram’s apartment. Her fingernails raked through the silken curls between her thighs as she spread her legs further and fought to pretend it was Abram. To pretend that it had been her laying in that bed with him and Tariq, that it was her body accepting such pleasure.

He wouldn’t touch her gently. She had a feeling he wouldn’t touch her lightly. Each touch would be firm, determined, dominant. It would border erotic pain, and agonizing pleasure.

He would control her body.