[Ménage Amour: Erotic Fantasy Consensual BDSM Ménage a Trois Romance, M/M/F with M/M elements, public exhibition, spanking, whipping, flogging, sex toys, HEA]
It's all fun and games…until someone loses their heart.
What happens when a good girl who wants to explore her submissive side makes a wish to be bad? The Council sends a pair of Enrichers to show her the ropes—literally.
Emma Haskins may be in over her head, physically and emotionally, with these two. Griffin King and Mason Shaw, the Dom/switch pair sent to instruct her on the fine art of submission, discover the same thing. None of them expect their previously battered hearts to get involved. When simple training turns into a one-of-a-kind emotional overload, the trio is blindsided. By the time they realize how they feel for one another, it may be too late to arrange a happily ever after for three—a stalker is intent on getting his hands on Emma. At any cost.
That cost could be one—or more—of their lives.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Griff realized he still held the quarters and extended them to her. “I don’t want you under any false assumptions, Miss Haskins. Your friend Joel did not send us here.”
She stiffened, and wariness reemerged in her eyes.
He held up his hand. “Please, just take a moment and listen, all right? This might get a little unbelievable, but it’s true. Mason and I are a team. We work for a group called the Council, which, for lack of a better explanation, looks after the sexual needs and desires of people around the world. We are their instruments, and we’re called Enrichers.”
Her expression went from wary to scoffing in a nanosecond.
Her lips pursed, and her eyes narrowed to slits. “You’re right, it’s unbelievable.”
This part of the program was always the most difficult. Ordinary folk just didn’t believe in magic anymore. “But it’s the truth. Thursday night you stood before the fountain—the very one in that photograph on the wall—and asked for help and guidance. We’re here to give it to you. If you accept.” He held out the quarters again.
She didn’t take them. “What about Joel?”
“Had nothing to do with this.” Griff shrugged. “He’s all right, though. We were told to relay that information to you. Perhaps you should call him and verify what I’m telling you. He did not send us nor did he give us the coins. Clarissa—that’s our boss—said to tell you it was a glancing blow.”
“What? Someone hit him?” Emma’s face tightened, and she lifted the phone, pointing it at them. “Is that why he didn’t call me this weekend?”
He saw the confusion mingle with burgeoning acceptance in her expression. “Go ahead, Miss Haskins, call him.”
She bit her lip, sucking at it with a soft, wet sound that rocked his cock further. Hell, he’d had a hard-on from the moment she’d popped out of her doorway.
Finally she nodded. “I don’t know why I’m even buying one second of this ridiculousness, and believe me, I still have questions.” But she lifted the phone, dialed a number, and within seconds was speaking low into the receiver. Her eyes widened, and she shot to her feet.
“Oh my God, are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me? Did you call the police? Ryan?”
Griff shared a concerned look with Mason, and both men rose, but she waved them away.
“For Pete’s sake, Joel, a freaking trip to the toy store is not as important as you are. I would have come over immediately.”
Her concern played over her face, and Griff found himself squashing the urge to gather her up in his arms.
“Fine, tell Ryan to take good care of you. I’ll come by tomorrow and see you. No, everything’s fine here. Well, Charles stopped by earlier, but didn’t stay long.”
Who the hell was Charles?
Emma clutched the phone and spoke softly and with great fervor. Griff sloughed off the question of Charles—he would have the Council investigate that—and sat forward to listen unabashedly.
“Listen, Joel, I have a weird question for you. Remember those coins I tossed in the fountain?”
She colored lightly and cupped a hand over the phone. Griff leaned in, a grin on his face.
“Uh, you didn’t happen to grab them, did you?”
“No? You’re sure?” Her green eyes flicked to Griff, holding his. He saw the dawning in her gaze, the subtle set of tension threading her shoulders. “Okay, then. Next question. Do you know two guys named Mason and Griffin?”
Her throat worked, and she rubbed her palm over her forehead. “Damn, I was afraid you were going to say that. You’re sure? Not messing with me?”
Griff leaned back on the couch and propped one ankle on his knee, grin widening by the moment. He was enjoying her revelation.
But he was more intrigued by the pulses of excitement she displayed. He didn’t need Mason’s amp abilities to feel her emotions.
“Well, they sort of showed up on my doorstep, and oh damn, you are not going to believe me. Hell, I don’t believe it.”
He chuckled and shook his head. Emma gave him a piercing glare. Griff winked back.
“They say they’re here to fulfill my wish.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You know, the one about my, uh, desires?”
Suddenly she stiffened. “What?” Her tone rose with panic. “No, no, no. You are not coming over. No, Ryan can’t come either. Listen, Joel, if you didn’t give them the coins, and you don’t know them, the only thing left is the truth. You know that whole thing about however improbable, blah, blah, blah?”
She sucked in a deep breath, eyes now locked with Griff’s. He saw the decision in her eyes, saw the commitment she was about to make to herself and to them.
Damned if he didn’t get excited as hell. His cock rose and butted the zipper on his jeans. He shifted on the couch.
He frowned at the one-sided conversation and lifted a brow in question, but she ignored him. His finger twitched on his thigh. Too bad they hadn’t gone over any rules yet or that would be a lovely indiscretion over which to tan her sweet round ass with his palm.
“Do you know basic slave position?”
Her body jerked at the word slave. “I believe so, Sir.”
“Get in it.”
She sank to her knees, very grateful for the carpet and padding. Her mind tumbled through the myriad articles and forums she’d read on this subject. She spread her knees, rested her buttocks on her heels, and laced her fingers together at the base of her neck. She stood with her back straight, tits thrust out, eyes downcast.
The immediate sensation of subservience washed over her with unexpected force. This was what she craved—being at the mercy of a man.
Being used as a plaything.
Emma sucked in a shuddering breath as the eroticism of her position truly hit her. Then, from nowhere, her lust grew, tripled from one heartbeat to the next.
“Damn,” Mason grunted. “She’s running hot already.”
“I feel that,” Griff murmured. “Can you dial it back some? No sense burning her out before we even start.”
She didn’t really understand their discussion, but seconds later a pressure she’d not noticed loosened, and the lust dimmed a bit, though it did not go away.
“Good, that’ll work there.”
Griff walked around her, studied her from every angle. Emma wanted to ask what he thought, to know if he approved, but kept her mouth shut. She’d garnered two strokes on the punishment board already. She had a feeling that total would grow fast enough without her mouth adding to it.
Griff finished his walk around. She watched his legs travel from in front of her off to the left toward the sideboard. Seconds later the soft throngs of a flogger fluttered in front of her.
“Very good for your first time.” The flogger slid sinuously down her back and tapped. “Arch your tits out more. Good.”
The flogger made its way between her legs, and he gave her several light thumps against her already-sopping pussy. Emma tried to control her shivered response.
“Your mental and emotional states are as important as your sexual obedience. You give over everything to your Master while you are in a scene. You are his to do with as he pleases, regardless of what he wants.” The flogger twirled in the air, close to her breasts, then skimmed the protruding tips of her nipples.
Emma groaned at the contact. The throngs were soft and gentle, the pressure not enough to satisfy.
She arched her back.
The flogger landed on her bare back. She shivered in surprise.
Again, it didn’t hurt, but it certainly got her attention.
She risked a look up. Griff was frowning, and her heart sank.
“Remain still. You do not control the situation, little one. It’s imperative you remember this. Don’t try to top from the bottom.”
She gave a quick nod.
The flogger returned to her tits, and Mason moved behind her.
She heard him settle on the carpet, and then his hands touched her thighs, traveled up them, and circled her ass.
“I can smell your pussy, how aroused you are,” he murmured close to her ear. “I love how much this position excites you, Emma.”
Griff twirled the flogger again, beating it against her tits in quick strokes. Her nipples grew tighter with each pass, her tits heavier.
Mason slipped his hands between her legs, fingers digging at her pouting lower lips.
Emma groaned as his fingertips reached inside to touch her wetness.
“Do you like to be flogged?” he asked.
She nodded jerkily.
“More,” he said.
Griff’s strokes picked up both pace and intensity.
Mason’s hands disappeared from her pussy to clasp her upraised elbows. He pulled back lightly, and she grimaced at the tug of tension.
Griff laid the flogger harder upon her tits in a rhythmic slap, slap, slap.
Her skin burned now from the light blows, the edges of her tits seared with each contact, and her nipples were so hard they ached.
She looked at them through the falling strands, shocked to find her normally small, pale nubs ruby red and engorged. They were the size of dimes instead of their usual pencil erasers.
Griff tossed the flogger down and knelt in front of her. His mouth closed around one nipple as his fingers tweaked the other.
She writhed beneath his touch. He drew back and held up the clamps. “Deep breath.”
Emma complied as best she could, watched her chest rise obediently into his hands, and jumped when he fastened the flat edges of the clip around her flesh.
The instant pain made her eyes water.
She bit her lip to quell the protest.
Griff watched her for a moment, his fingers still tugging on her other breast. He lifted the other half of the clamp and fitted it to that nipple.
It came down with equal crushing pressure, and again Emma swayed.
“You will take it,” Griff said on a snarl.
She struggled to remain still, now grateful for the support Mason offered behind her.
The tone of Griff’s voice, the snap and demand, broke down what little resistance she had left. “Yes, Sir,” she gasped.
His chuckle was dark and satisfied. “I knew you were going to be an exemplary student. Such an eager little slut, so ready to learn. To obey. Aren’t you?”
He had her at slut.
“Yes. Sir.” The words puffed out as separate sentences.
Her tits were on fire. The pain writhed and moved within her nipples like ants on candy.
Then Griff lifted the chain that joined the clamps together and slowly pulled outward.