Three Men and a Woman: Annabelle (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Read Free

remembered his stern instructions, weeks ago now. Whenever she was with him, he wanted to see her erect nipples poking out from behind her blouse.
    Most often, when he was home before she was, he’d be ready when she opened the door. He’d push her back against it and start finger-fucking her pussy before she even dropped her purse and folio. He’d stick his tongue down her throat and tug at her nipple.
    Sometimes he’d turn her around and fuck her right there. Other times, he’d bring her to climax with his fingers, or even just get her nearly there and then leave her hanging. All through dinner he’d give her hot looks and little prodding touches and caresses to keep her smoldering until finally, while they were on the couch watching TV, or later, when he took her to bed, he’d fuck her with a dick so hard it felt like a Louisville Slugger.
    She never knew what it would be. But it would always be something, and always freaking hot.
    She stopped when she got to the fifth floor to catch her breath. Between the stairs and frequent trips to the gym, she kept in shape. She needed it, to keep up with Rowen’s demands on her body. But it was never wise to cross her threshold already out of breath.
    This time, the door opened before she even got there. Rowen stood leaning against the jamb, like the hot sex god he was. About as casual as he ever got, he wore a dress shirt all undone, soft white silk caressing his muscled chest and then draping over his ripped abs. Neat, dark-blue jeans fit tightly, holding back the long, hard cock that was already at half-mast. And rising.
    He was ready for her. She swallowed slowly. She didn’t have to touch her own nipples again to please him. They were hard and tingling all on their own, and her cunt was already wet.
    He stayed there in the doorway, though, and watched her in his knowing way. There was never a response her body had that he didn’t know about.
    After a while his gaze came back from her tits and her pussy and met hers. “How’d the interview go?”
    How sweet, a little foreplay. She smiled. “It went great. I got the job.”
    He smiled back. “I knew you would.”
    He was telling the truth. He had the greatest respect for her work, and on the rare occasion that someone turned down one of her proposals, he cussed the idiot out as a blind fucking asshole. His confidence in her was its own warm kind of turn on.
    Now that very sexy mouth formed more of a quirk. “Feel like celebrating?”
    Oh, yeah. She nodded slowly, but still he didn’t move.
    “Open your purse. I want to see inside.”
    Busted. With a mild blush warming her cheeks, Annabelle opened her purse for him. A little bit of white lace nestled on top of her wallet and makeup cases.
    He peeked, and she saw his cock twitch.
    “Annie,” he said. “You stopped on the third floor landing and took your panties off for me again, didn’t you?”
    She was quiet but met his gaze unashamedly.
    “Good girl. I like the white lace. It means you’re wearing that little white demi-bra from Le Mystère, doesn’t it?” She lifted her brow, daring him to find out.
    Never one to resist a challenge, he grabbed hold of her jacket—a little, tight-fitting, peplumed, silk-and-linen blend of gray with pink pinstripes. The matching skirt was short and tight, with a slit in the back that Rowen was especially fond of. She liked it, too. She’d taken more than one subway ride with him standing behind her, middle finger up her cunt.
    It was all part of a wardrobe that was new since he’d come into her life and pretty much taken over her shopping. She thought of it as her classy, call-girl style, kind of like a governor’s-hooker sort of outfit.
    He pulled her in far enough to close the door then pushed her up against it. Ah, home at last.
    “Are you wet for me, baby?”
    He knew it, and set about finding out for himself. He started with unbuttoning her jacket. Underneath, nothing but a little Le Mystère, with two swollen