She felt his cock get even bigger in her hand, drew in the fresh scent of his sex from the increased heat of his body, and wondered that her mouth watered.
Michaela leaned closer and used her tongue to scoop up that drop. The flavor lay on her tongue, a hint of tang, of something different but dark and delicious. Then she opened her mouth and sucked his cock inside. The sensation of him there—the heat, the firmness—did something to her, not so much a physical thing but a spiritual one. Protection, pleasure, all given freely by her in this one act. This is the definition of loving. She let the thought linger, knowing the truth in that one word but not ready yet to acknowledge it. So she ran her tongue along the shaft of his cock, sucking, moving her head, letting her hand continue to pump as she did so. Her baby finger stretched to brush his balls on the down stroke, and his response—the sucking in of breath, the low curse, and the increase in pre-cum—told her he really liked that.
Her only thought was to give, and when she felt a hand stroking her cunt, when she felt fingers there and at her anus, she shivered.
Giving this pleasure fed her arousal, and the stroking Randy delivered became kerosene on those embers.
“Oh, baby, yes.” Lewis bent closer, his left hand gripping her hair, and he trembled.
He’s such a strong man, and yet I made him tremble!
It was a wondrous feeling and urged her to give more. She hummed her pleasure and knew she’d found another way to stir him, to make his enjoyment even more than it had been a heartbeat before.
A cool gel on her anus hit a trigger that surged her hips back, making firmer the meeting of Randy’s fingers and her asshole.
“I’m so close, baby. Will you drink me down?”
There was nothing she wanted more in that moment than to do just that. It would be the ultimate gift, one she intended to give to both of her lovers. She hummed again, giving Lewis her assent, and then she began to draw on him, a firm, rhythmic pull that coaxed a groan from his throat and the seed from his body.
“Yes! Michaela, yes.”
Stream after stream of his semen hit her throat, and she swallowed. The strong flavor surprised her, yet by the third spurt, she found she really liked it. She focused so completely on Lewis, on taking every drop, that the stroking of her clit and the slight pinch startled her. Then Randy pressed a finger against her rosette and pushed right through her sphincter.
Michaela screamed around the cock in her mouth, a cock that was eased out from between her lips. Wave after wave of fierce rapture covered her, enveloped her, shooting her toward the stars. The men wrapped themselves around her, surrounding her in their heat, their gentle croons soothing her as she slowly floated back down to earth.
Michaela was lifted and settled into her bed, with a lover on either side of her. Aftershocks rattled her, each one carrying a drop more ecstasy to add to her already overloaded system. But as she shivered, and as she held fast to her lovers, she knew her prediction had come true.
For a long solid moment, she’d glimpsed through the door of heaven.
Chapter Twelve
Lewis paid close attention as Dr. Jessop unwrapped Michaela’s left hand. She’d refused pain pills that morning, and while a part of him accepted that as her right, another part wanted to do all he could to take away any pain she might be feeling.
“It’s looking good.” Dr. Jessop looked up and met his gaze for just a moment then turned his attention back to Michaela. “Are you generally a fast healer?”
“I haven’t often injured myself,” she said. “So I don’t know if I can honestly answer that.”
“Well, this looks good. I want you to finish the prescription of antibiotics I gave you, but whether you take any of the pain medication is up to you. If the wound begins to ache, that would be a sign either that you’re doing too much or there’s infection. You know the signs of infection?”
Michaela nodded. “Redness and warmth to the touch.”
“That’s it. That happens, get in here. Otherwise, I want to see you on Friday, and if it’s as good as I think it will be then, you can go back to work beginning Saturday.”
“All right, thank you. It was easy to remember not to use my left hand with the overabundance of bandages you put on it.”
Robert Jessop grinned. “You have no idea how many people say that to me.” He looked down at her hand. “I’ll dress the wound and then bind it to the next finger, only. How’s that for a compromise? Then, tomorrow morning, when you dress it, you can just use a simple bandage.”
Michaela tilted her head as she considered him. “I’m beginning to see it now. That would be good, thanks, though the brat in me must point out that it’s not really a compromise if it’s what you’ve decided to do, regardless.”
Lewis raised one eyebrow and shrugged when, laughing, Robert looked at him again. “Give it one more day before you get it wet. I’ll put some antibiotic cream on it, but there’s no sign of infection. I’ll feel better if that heals just a bit more before you get it wet. And by wet, I mean shower. Stay away from doing the dishes for a bit, yet. And please keep your hands out of any physical work whatsoever—wet or
