Cantara rocked her hips between the vibrator, Raoul’s hand and his cock, bringing all three of them that much closer to the abyss. That did it for Raoul. He simply couldn’t hold out and went into spasm at the same time as Zeke, both of them swearing, groaning, and claiming one of her tits to play with. She let go too, swallowing down Zeke’s endless flow of semen as Raoul shot his into her backside, his breath hot and heavy against her damp skin. Her body went into spasm and she rode her orgasm like a woman with a point to prove. Like she might never get another opportunity. She released Zeke’s cock so she could throw her head back and scream.
“More!” she yelled at Raoul. “Give me more. It’s not enough.”
“Shit, darlin’, you’ve got it all.”
Raoul swept her from the ground into his arms and carried her to their bed like she weighed nothing at all. The three of them lay on a mattress they shared every night, Cantara squashed between their hard bodies. It only took the guys a moment or two to recover their breath, but Cantara was too exhausted to move.
“Shower,” Raoul said, tapping her thigh. “Then we need to talk.”
Cantara glanced from one of them to the other, took in the rigid set to their features and, sighing, must have known she would be showering alone.
Chapter Three
The guys enjoyed the view of Cantara’s ass, striped pink from the flogging she had taken so enthusiastically, as she walked toward the bathroom.
“She’s gonna make trouble, ain’t she?” Zeke said moodily.
“We’ll tie her to the bed if necessary,” Raoul replied.
Zeke rolled his eyes. “Yeah right, that’ll stop her. She’ll enjoy it and demand to be fucked senseless.”
“We could withhold our services.”
“Speak for yourself. I get horny just looking at her.”
Raoul sighed. “Yeah, I hear you, bud.”
While Cantara showered, the guys cleaned themselves up and pulled their jeans back on. If they had their discussion in the nude, it could only ever end one way. It was always like that with them when they were anywhere near Cantara. They hadn’t yet plumbed the depths of her sensual nature and taught her everything she needed to know about herself and her needs. If she went ahead with this crazy mission, they would most likely never get the chance.
Grim faced, they sat themselves down, side by side, on the settee and waited for her to emerge from the shower. She took her sweet time, probably because she knew what was coming and wanted to delay the moment. Eventually she appeared, hair damp and hanging down her back, almost to her waist, as black and sleek as a raven’s wing. She wore a simple sun dress with thin straps, no bra—probably no panties either—and was barefoot.
Cantara looked pale, but composed. Raoul recognized the glint of determination in her eye competing with the satiated expression he was more familiar with. She took the chair they had left for her, directly opposite them, and swung her feet up, tucking them beneath her butt. She winced, presumably because her heels made contact with a fresh bruise, but otherwise showed no reaction. But Raoul could tell she was nervous. The wariness in her expression gave her away, as did the fact that her hands weren’t entirely steady.
“Why didn’t you speak with us before agreeing?” Raoul asked in a mordent tone.
“You don’t consult me when you go on missions.”
“That’s different, and you know it,” Zeke said. “We’re soldiers. We have no choice but to follow orders. You do get to choose.”
“You know why I have to do this.” She looked down at her hands and laced her fingers together. “And if I’d mentioned it to you first you would only have tried to talk me out of it.”
“Damned straight, we would,” Raoul replied, his jaw clenched, square and unmoving, madder than he had been in a long while. “It’s dumb-assed, ill-thought out, and plain suicidal.”
“Colonel Pool doesn’t seem to think so.”
Zeke scowled. “Pool wouldn’t know his ass from his elbow. He’s just out for personal glory and doesn’t care about collateral damage.”
“Which is all you will be if you do this,” Raoul said, team-tagging Zeke’s objections.
“It’s the best opportunity we’ve had to talk with the militants for a long time. They’re on the back foot right now, their position weakened through recent losses, and they need to negotiate. I can see why Pool and Hassan are so keen to go for it.”
“It’s not their asses on the line.” Raoul growled.
“I can take care of myself. Besides, we knew what I was coming here to do.”
“You agreed not to engage with extremists,” Zeke reminded her.
“Yes, I know, but…this opportunity might never come around again.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Raoul stood up and paced the room. “If that’s your attitude then you’re dead before you leave this compound.”
“I don’t plan on dying.”
“Why do you think they’ve asked for you?” Zeke asked.
“Well, I suppose, because I’ve made no secret of the fact that I want to broker peace in the region. I am Palestinian, so I understand the issues.” She looked away. “God alone knows, I ought to.”
“Then you’ll know they don’t take women seriously,” Raoul said, swinging around to face her again. “Has it occurred to you that they might want to take you out of the equation? You’re a thorn in their side, a traitor to the cause in their eyes, an embarrassing female who has forgotten her role in life. Your entire family was wiped out and yet instead of wanting revenge, you work for our side, trying to broker peace.”
“I work for both sides.”
Zeke flexed a brow. “You think they’ll see it that way?”
“It’s up to me to make them.”
“And what about us? The three of us?” Raoul placed his fists on his hips and fixed her with a searing look. “You don’t think what we have is worth preserving, worth fighting for, worth putting first?”
“Of course I do, but—”
“We love you, babe,” Zeke said bleakly.
“We never thought that would happen, that we would be able to commit to one woman and be happy, but it has.” Raoul raked a hand through his hair. “Shit, if anything happens to you, it would crucify us both.”