Carolyn Gregg - La Petite Mort

Their actions grew stronger. Faster. More demanding. Bria matched them as best she could, taking their triple dominance over her as her nerve endings flared and fired.

She had no time to notice when the giant started uncoiling inside her. Three immense cocks fucking her brains out were all she was aware of until the orgasm rammed into her with unmerciful force. As she shrieked, BJ pulled out and continued jacking himself off those last few seconds before he erupted. Hercules cried out, and the next moment so did Cray. They both rammed into her ass and pussy and held themselves there as their cream pumped with vicious explosiveness.

The last thing Bria knew before she blacked out was that three grown men were embracing her as tenderly and as affectionately as if she really was their beloved queen.

When she awoke, she was still in the third-floor bedroom, but she was alone in the bed. Someone had placed her under the satin coverlet to prevent her from getting chilled.

A sound from the other side of the room caught her attention. She turned her head to see Hercules sitting on a small love seat. He wore his little white skirt and a big grin.

Slowly, Bria glanced around the rest of the room. The fucking machine was gone. So were Cray and BJ. The only evidence to show what had gone on earlier in the room was the box of condoms and the small jar of Vaseline sitting on the table near the bed.

Opening her mouth to question the whereabouts of his brothers, Hercules softly told her, “They had to attend to other guests."

"Oh?"

Her disappointment to find them gone drew a smile from him. “Not in that manner, My Queen. You are unique. A rare jewel. Would you believe me if I told you that you are the only woman the three of us ever agreed upon? The only one we ever wanted or were willing to share?"

Could she believe him? Why the hell not? There was something extremely morale-boosting in his comment.

"But you failed,” she whispered, looking back at him. When he gave her a puzzled expression, she told him, “I didn't die. I didn't get my wish fulfilled."

"On the contrary. Yes, you did. And it was a beautiful death."

A beautiful death? She gave a bark of laughter. “Oh, puh-leeze."

"Believe me,” Hercules insisted. “The French call it la petite mort. The little death. It's when your orgasm is so strong, so overwhelming that you black out. That's what happened to you, My Queen.” He held out his hands, palms up. “We fulfilled your desires."

She couldn't argue with him. She didn't want to. Hercules and his brothers had given her a memory that would last her for the rest of her life.

"Is it still Saturday night?"

"A little past two in the morning. You've been asleep for a little more than three hours."

She'd been out for three hours? “And you've been here the whole time?"

Again that enigmatic smile. “It was my desire."

His desire? Or his job? She wanted to believe the former, although the truth was probably closer to the latter.

And speaking of truth, there remained one final confession she had to get off her chest. Otherwise, her conscience would never allow her to guiltlessly savor this experience for as long as she lived.

"Hercules?… Zel?"

His smile sparkled at her use of his real name. “What?"

"I have to be totally honest with you. I… it wasn't my invitation that brought me here."

"What do you mean?” Odd, but he didn't seem surprised as he patiently waited for her to continue.

"The invitation to the ball. It wasn't mine. I filched it out of my boss's wastebasket.” Bria shrugged. “I figured since she wasn't using it… and I was… feeling…"

"Your name is Bria Bingham, isn't it?"

At his softly spoken question, Bria's head jerked up in surprise. Her face must have said it all. Zel chuckled. Deep, provocative. She could feel her body coming alive again.

"The invitation was sent to you.” At her daft expression, Zel insisted, “Your boss must have intercepted it. Or it may have gone to her by mistake in the first place."

"But… how? I mean, why send it to where I work? Why didn't it go to my apartment?"

"My Queen, if you had gotten the invitation at your home, would you have answered it by coming here tonight?” His eyebrows lifted, and he snorted in amusement. “Of course not."

"But…"

"Let's just say we anticipated your boss would intercept your mail, just as she's done for the past few years. Sooner or later we knew you would receive the invitation, and when you did, you would come here. Out of spite or anger, it didn't matter. You would come, and we would finally be able to fulfill your ultimate desire.” Zel chuckled again. “It doesn't matter if you believe me or not, Bria. What matters is that by fulfilling your wish, we fulfilled ours as well."

"Yours? You mean you yours, or you and your brothers'?"

"The three of us. We have been wanting a four-way with you ever since we first saw you at The Monte Leon two months ago."

The Monte Leon? It had been a business trip Angie had ordered her to accompany her on. The four days in New Orleans had been sheer torture and an exercise in prolonged patience. But apparently some good had come out of it.

"I'm flattered,” she admitted. “I truly am.” Taking a deep breath, she sat up in bed. The satin sheet fell to her waist but she ignored it. She was still naked and deliciously sore, but she had no complaints. “Well, what happens now? You got what you wanted. I got what I came for. We're even."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Sometimes, the thing we least expect to happen can occur, and our hearts are suddenly… never mind."

Slowly, Zel got to his feet. For the first time he appeared lost for an answer. “Your gown is on the chair,” he said, motioning to an area behind her. Bria turned to see her costume lying on the vanity. Next to it was the envelope containing what appeared to be every penney of her savings. “When you're ready, someone will escort you to the front where you'll be taken to the ferry. Bria…"

Strange. If she didn't know any better, she would swear he looked… sad.

"Thank you,” he told her. A moment later he closed the door behind him, leaving her completely alone.

"Bria! Where's the Maguire folder?"

Angie's screech of anger could be heard clear across the large room and into the offices on the other side of the building. Wincing, Bria walked into the woman's office and began to dig under the pile of folders on the woman's desk. When she found what she was looking for, she dragged it out and dumped it on top of the heap.

"There you go."

Rather than thank her, Angie snatched it up and opened it. Bria started to leave when the woman said, “Oh, by the way, I can't make the Victory meeting this afternoon. You'll need to cover it for me."

Bria turned to face her and hoped she could keep her temper under wraps. “I asked for this afternoon off yesterday and you approved it,” she reminded the woman.

"Well, I'm going to have to un-approve it. I got a phone call today from their main office, and the meeting's been moved to the Candelaria Restaurant at one.” Angie closed the folder and gave her one of those evasive looks Bria hated.

"I thought you were excited about snagging this new account,” Bria commented. “I distinctly remember you telling me this thing was worth a double-figured million mark."

Angie waved a French-tipped finger to dismiss the reminder. “Doug Pelosi called with an emergency,” she finally admitted. “I need to take care of him, or else we'll be losing a double-figured million mark account! Besides…"

Bria tried not to roll her eyes. Here it came, the big schmooze. The I-can't-do-this-without-you hook that would make it impossible for her to turn away.