Vivian Arend - Falling, Freestyle

Kane snatched up the frilly underthings he’d found and turned to go.

“Hey, aren’t you taking her bag with you?” Jack waved the fake cock in his hand and suddenly it was funny as shit. Kane shook his head as he laughed out loud, walking back to the bedroom. Jack called after him with an evil tone in his voice. “Your funeral.”

Dara sat on the bed, the top sheet pulled across her body like a shield. “What the hell took you so long? I’m starving.”

“You could have come out and joined us.” Kane passed over the dainty bits of lace and she took them, hand extended as if she expected more. “That’s enough. You won’t be naked, and it’s not cold. Jack’s got the fireplace going.”

She opened her mouth to protest. He was sure something rude about his mental capacity was ready to fly when she surprised him. She stood and let the blanket fall, her pale skin shining under the soft light from the bedside lamp.

His mouth watered.

Her full breasts stared him in the eye as she passed back her bra. “Maybe you should help me put this on.”

She pivoted on the spot, her tight buttocks shifting slightly. He responded like a moth to a flame. One step brought him close enough to cup her ass cheek as he leaned against her warm skin.

“You’re full of tricks, aren’t you?” The scent of her perfume filled his brain and all thoughts of leaving the room vanished.

“Only if you want to play.”

He smoothed his hands over the crests of her hipbones, drifting upward an inch at a time until he cupped her breasts. Kane drew in a deep breath, his nose buried in her hair, the tight peaks of her nipples stabbing his palms. He nibbled on her neck and earlobe, massaged her breasts and her heartbeat accelerated under his caress.

Her stomach growled, long and loud, and they both laughed.

“How sexy.” Kane pressed a final kiss to her neck then fastened her bra, helping her settle the straps on her shoulders. He leaned her forward, gritting his teeth as her ass pressed against his groin. Ignoring the contact as best he could, he repositioned her breasts in the bra cups before guiding her upright.

Dara laughed. “Oh my God, Kane, I’ve never met a guy who knew how to do that.”

“I love cleavage, and you’ve got the build for it.” He knelt at her feet and held the panties for her. She braced herself on his shoulder, fingers firm against his muscles as she stepped in. He slipped the tiny piece of fabric up her legs, arranging the thin straps over the smooth rise of her hips. “You know I’ve got four sisters. Nothing was sacred when I was growing up. The things those girls talked about when I was around would have scarred a lesser man.”

He rose and held out his hand to her.

She hesitated. “Kane…”

It wasn’t something he would force, but he didn’t think she’d want to skip even a single experience they offered. “If you want me to grab your clothes, I will. Think about this first—are you really uncomfortable or just turned on? You are simply beautiful, and I’d love to enjoy looking at you throughout dinner. It’s your choice. It’s all your choice, all weekend. But I think you should trust me.”

She licked her lips and his cock reacted, pressing hard against his jeans. Dara slowly lowered her hand into his and together they walked to the dining room.

Alpine Responsibility Code

Rule #5—Safety restraints must be used at all times.

Dara stood erect, her breasts like some kind of missile system. Cocked and fully loaded, they aimed forward, barely contained by the wisp of fabric on her skin. It was the sexiest thing she owned and she felt more naked in it than if Kane had insisted she come to dinner in the nude.

She’d packed the scanty lingerie with uncertainty. Heck, she’d bought it during her mad planning session for this getaway, trying to think of what the guys might find attractive. It wasn’t her usual attire—having a string up her butt was not what she’d choose to wear most days. Besides, it was scary how much the shop had charged for mere inches of material.

It was all worth it when she saw the expression in Jack’s eyes as Kane led her around the corner. His hands skittered over the utensils he was placing on the table.

“Oh sweet thing. Where have you been all my life?” He gave her one of his exaggerated winks.

Suddenly she was comfortable again. These were her buds, her “cuddle in the dark because there’s a lightning storm outside the tent” friends.

Her lovers as of an hour ago.

There was nothing to fear from them, not even clad in the most come-hither outfit in the world.

Kane seated her carefully, taking the chair on her right. Jack sat on her left and they all filled their plates with the pasta and aromatic sauce.

Jack placed a piece of bread on her plate and she wrinkled her nose. “Garlic bread?”

Kane pointed with his knife. “He made Caesar salad too. We’re all goners, so you’d better eat some in self-defense.”

“Garlic breath. Ugh. I guess we’re not planning on doing anything else tonight.”

The expression in Jack’s eyes shot down that idea immediately. Dara took a deep breath and turned her attention to the table. She couldn’t maintain his gaze, not yet. Not when he seemed to look straight through her and see what she really wanted.

Which wouldn’t be so bad if she knew herself.

Their lovemaking before supper had made it clear she was physically compatible with both the guys. Now she needed to concentrate on her real agenda. Who did she want the most, not just in the bedroom? Who did she have the best chance at forever with?

She reached for her fork and stopped in surprise. “Umm, Jack? The food looks great, but you forgot to give me any utensils.”

“Didn’t forget.”

Okay, now he was getting annoying. She pointed beside her plate. “Hello, nothing to eat with.”

His fingers encircled her wrist and tugged her arm toward him. Jack laid a thin black strap over her skin and smoothed the Velcro fasteners together. The band formed a loop around her wrist, like a sports-watch strap. A longer section, with a locking clip, extended five inches toward the floor. She stared at him in confusion, attempting to pull her hand back. He closed his fingers over the strap and trapped her in place.

Oh my God.

Kane cursed. “You just happened to have handcuffs in your luggage?”

Jack shook his head. “Safety harnesses from my skis.”

Dara’s head spun a little as her heart rate increased in a rush. Pure adrenaline shot into her veins and morphed into desire. The tiny scrap of lace between her legs grew instantly soaked. Jack’s pupils dilated as he steadily returned her gaze. He waited, his hand supporting hers and she knew he’d felt her tremble. She waited, willing the blood pounding through her limbs to slow enough she could stay vertical.

“Dara?”

Jack held out his other hand, a second restraint dangling from his fingers. His unspoken question hung in the air. Did she want this?

Hell, yes.

Slow, unsteady, she lifted her arm and offered her wrist. Kane swore quietly. Jack pressed a kiss to her palm, his gaze locked on hers. “Good girl.”

He fastened the second strap, then rose to his feet. She kept her gaze fixed on the table, sensing him walk behind her. Waiting for his touch. A hand landed gently on her shoulder and she shivered. He kissed her nape, brushing back her hair to whisper in her ear.

“There’s a flush over your whole body right now. Like a glow, lighting your skin. It’s going to make you more sensitive. Make every touch so much richer.”

He drew the back of a finger down her throat and over the upper swell of her breast. The way Kane had arranged her breasts in the supporting cups had forced the edge of her areolas to be visible at the top of the wispy fabric. Jack caressed, butterfly soft, along the dividing line between skin and material, and she swore her heart would explode.

His palms came to rest on her arms, slipping downward until he reached her wrists. Carefully he brought her hands together behind her back, looping the extra material around her lightly. The click of the clips locking together echoed in her ears louder than the blood roaring past.

A moan escaped. She was on fire.

Jack slid a finger inside the strap loops, testing the fit. “They aren’t tight, but you let me know the instant you want them off, understand?”

She nodded, unable to speak. If she truly wanted to escape she could slip free. It was the thought of being restrained that carried her into the fantasy.

Jack knelt and cupped her chin in his hand. He pressed his mouth to hers, his tongue stroking her lips—soft, teasing. When he drew back she would have followed and he brushed his knuckles past her cheek in a tender caress. “Later. Now we eat.”

Dara breathed out slowly as Jack regained his seat. She jumped lightly when a hand touched her right shoulder, Kane seeking her attention. His expression made her whimper, just a small sound of desire escaping as the hunger visible on his face twisted her insides.

“You have no idea what you are doing to me.” Kane’s words drove the need in her core even higher.

She caught a flash of his blue eyes before he kissed her as well, rough and thorough. Sucking the air from her lungs, his fingers tangled in her hair to hold their mouths together. She lost track of where she was, forgetting even that they were in front of Jack. The haze of excitement enveloping her grew until she attempted to clasp him back, and her arms wouldn’t budge.

Another burst of lust shot through her. Oh my God, the restraints. Whatever else happened this weekend, she was already more turned on than she’d been in her life.

A loud rumble from her belly broke through, and she laughed when Kane’s stomach answered back. They separated, only inches apart, grinning at each other.

“We’d better feed the bears before they escape.”

Jack lifted his wine glass in the air. “To us.”

Kane lifted his own glass and saluted Dara with it before touching it to her lips and tipping it slightly. She took a tiny sip before he pulled it away, the rich flavour bolting across her sensitive taste buds.

How she was supposed to eat when she could barely breathe?

Jack twirled his fork in the pasta on her plate and offered it to her. She wrapped her lips around his fork, vividly aware of each individual tine against her tongue as her senses went into overdrive. Each mouthful became more and more erotic as Jack and Kane took turns feeding her. A bite of pasta, a tidbit of bread. A sip of the wine—but it wasn’t the alcohol that made her blood hum.

She tugged lightly at her bonds, just to savour the thrill that shot through her. Okay, she was officially kinky. If this was day one, she could hardly wait to see what Jack could come up with as the weekend progressed.

The sexual tension in the room grew as the food disappeared. Jack watched Dara and Kane closely for any indication the situation was too much. He stretched his legs and adjusted in his chair, attempting to find a more comfortable position. Relieving the ache in his groin was fucking impossible, not with his cock rock hard, and he refused to rush again. Dara had caught him by surprise earlier, and he’d reacted poorly. He really should have had better control. His plea of temporary insanity to Kane wasn’t far off the mark. There was no way he would let that happen again, especially now that he had Kane to worry about as well as Dara.

It would take a delicate balancing act to make them all come out at the other end of the weekend unscathed.

There was a touch of a glassy haze in Dara’s eyes, and her breathing increased in tempo. Every time she tugged her restraints her pulse leapt, the throb visible in her neck. A hard pulse at the base of his cock answered back. Discovering she really did get off on being submissive thrilled him, but that wasn’t the only thing she’d asked for.

A ménage. Jack glanced at Kane. His friend gave Dara another sip of wine, reaching with his finger to catch a drip of crimson liquid clinging to the corner of her lips. Raw possessiveness flashed for a second and he beat it down ruthlessly.

It was time for the next step. “Did you have enough to eat?”

Kane and Dara stopped their quiet conversation. Two sets of eyes turned on him, desire and lust painted on both their faces.

“Yes.” Confessional soft. Trepidation and longing in the tone.