[Siren Ménage Everlasting: Erotic Western Ménage a Quatre Romance, M/F/M/M, light consensual BDSM, spanking, sex toys, HEA]
Disguised as a twelve-year-old boy, Casey Wright’s options are limited. Winter is coming and she’ll die without a job. Her brother, Willy, gets her hired as winter cook for the Sweetwater Ranch. She’s lusted after Cole, Byron, and Marshall all summer, but what will happen when they discover she’s a twenty-one-year-old woman?
Cole Taylor weds the backwoods mountain gal to keep his reputation as a gentleman and to enjoy the cook-housekeeper for the winter. He insists it’s a paper wedding, that she’ll still be a virgin in the spring. He’ll then have the marriage annulled and find a better wife.
But Casey demands some of the hot multiple sex she’s heard about. She easily seduces Marshall Stevens and Byron Ashcroft, who show her how much fun two men and a woman can have.
As their feelings grow, so does her desire to stay. What will it take for Cole to join his cousins in pleasuring his hot-blooded wife?
Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among cousins.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Reece Butler is a Siren-exclusive author.
“I don’t hire a man, or boy, before I look him in the eye and shake his hand.”
Cole’s cold, soft words slid to the base of her spine. She wasn’t afraid of him, not really. She tried to inhale but her bindings made it impossible. Her heart pounded like she was staring down one of Pappy’s drunk friends and was armed only with a knife.
“Casey?” Willy nudged her with his elbow.
She pushed back her shoulders and slowly raised her head. Long, sturdy legs led to a broad chest. She was only a bit over five feet, but Cole topped Willy’s five foot ten by a few inches. He was clean shaven, lips firmly shut above his broad jaw. His nose had been busted a few times. Did he like to fight, or was it from scrapping with his cousins? His face was stern, his brown eyes hard.
She already knew his back and chest were hard with muscle. She was watching him one time when a wasp or something got into his shirt. He’d whipped it off his head, inside out, and shook it. She’d seen lots of men without shirts, but none had made her burn like the sight of his broad back and lightly furred chest. He looked nothing like Pappy, who was a soft from lying around drinking ’shine while young’uns and womenfolk worked. She’d dreamed that one day Cole would hold her against that chest, his arms tight around her. Dreamed that he’d whisper she was safe, that no one would ever hurt her again. Silly girlish dreams. She swallowed hard.
He raised an eyebrow. The small movement sent a message of overpowering danger. She automatically dropped her eyes. She flexed her right fingers near the seam of her pants. Yes, her knife was still there. She was safe.
“Don’t try it, boy.”
Startled, she looked up at Cole’s low growl. His eyes narrowed, fixing on her like a hawk. She took a half step back at the threat. Pappy beat her lots, but he was nowhere as strong as Cole, whose big hands could break her neck with one snap. She trembled, curling her bare toes under for traction. Willy grabbed her arm to hold her from bolting. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and shook him off. She had to do this or die.
“Don’t think of running from me. Ever.”
Cole set his hands on his hips and leaned over her. She’d never been this close, had not fully realized his size and power. He would keep you safe. She dropped her eyes before he could notice she was more aroused at his strength and power than fearful.
“Do your work and we’ll leave you alone,” Cole continued softly. “Try us and we’ll take you so fast your head will spin. You hear me, boy?”
She gulped. He wasn’t the type to yell and bluster before pounding her. He’d strike, fast and sure, like a rattlesnake. She had no doubt he’d best her, but he’d only do it if threatened, not because he was drunk or mad at someone else, like Pappy. No, Cole was too controlled to rage. If he ever got really angry he could kill someone. So, unlike the weaklings and bullies she knew from home, he kept it leashed.
A man like that respected those who stood up to him while knowing their place. She met his eyes, showing her determination as well as the understanding of who was boss.
“Yessir, Mr. Taylor.”
He held out his hand. She did the same. But instead of shaking it, he turned her palm up. His traced his fingertips over her calluses. Something shivered up her arm and down her back, landing between her legs. She clenched her jaw to hide her reaction. When he finally did shake she returned the firm grip. He could have crushed her like a bug. Instead he took her measure and released her. Something flickered in his eyes, then was gone.
“Be ready to leave right after the meeting.”
“But…” Cole’s eyebrow said he was now her boss and he set the rules. She would do what he told her, immediately, or suffer the consequences. She licked lips dry from panting as she struggled to breathe. “Yes, sir,” she croaked.
At his nod of dismissal she bolted to the kitchen. She leaned over, palms on the table to hold herself from falling over in dizziness. The hand Cole had touched still burned, as did the spot between her legs.
But she had work to do. Sophie had worked on the stew and it was time to add the potatoes. Her hands shook so bad she dropped a few chunks on the floor. She bent over to pick them up. The seam of her pants rubbed against her skin. She stood, pressing her thighs together to ease the ache, but it only made it worse. She held back a groan, part worry and part arousal.
It was going to be a long, hot winter.
“You said you’d show me what your mouth and fingers could do for my pussy. Are you up to it, or are you crippled from this here scratch?”
Once his bloodless brain figured out what she’d said and ran it past twice just in case, he dropped his jaw. Then he smiled.
“Sugar, I am not just gonna make your pussy purr. I’m gonna make it scream my name!”
“Don’t know what that means,” she muttered, “but I’ll trust you.”
She’d trust him? Hallelujah! If he’d known getting gored by a mad cow would make her trust him, much less let him touch her, he’d have done it days ago.
He waited impatiently while she bandaged him. She handed him his stick again, letting him use her shoulder to help him up. He didn’t take advantage of his free hand and her nakedness while she helped him into bed. He could wait another two minutes. Maybe.
But the process of hauling himself into bed damn near wore him out. She carefully lifted his bandaged leg, supporting it while he shifted to the center of the mattress.
“You’ll have to lie still for a couple days,” she said. Her concerned expression, eyebrows drawn, softened. Her blush returned. “Can you do what you said if you’re lying down?”
His exhaustion evaporated. He winked and crooked his finger. She gulped. Dang, her nipples crinkled as he watched! She bit her lip, suddenly hesitant.
“You’ll be on top. You can climb off anytime you want.” He patted his chest. “Sit right here, facing me.”
It took some coaxing—she didn’t want to smother him—but she finally settled with her knees past his ears. He rested his hands on her hips. Not to hold, but to steady. He looked up, past her belly and ribs, past her swollen breasts, all the way to her full lips, again being punctured by her top teeth. Then he met her uncertain eyes.
He watched her carefully as he drew his knuckles over her pussy. She swallowed hard. He gently circled her clit, lightly grinding her pubic bone. She gave a hint of a moan and dropped down an inch. He could almost reach her with his tongue, but not quite. He teased her again, tracing his way between her wet lips with a finger. She shivered and dropped even closer.
“Lean forward. Maybe you can hold the headboard.”
That brought her clit right where he wanted it. He inhaled her scent deep into his lungs. There was something so earthy, so right about knowing your woman this way. And there was no doubt that Casey was his woman.
He encouraged her to slide lower so her pussy rubbed his nose. She was wet, hot, and already panting. He tilted his head back, licking her from ass to clit. Her texture was like nothing he could describe. Thick and soft and sweet and wet, all at once. He flicked her clit with the tip of his tongue. She gasped and pressed her thighs against his cheeks. He did it again, and again, and again. She shuddered.
He reached under with his fingers and probed into her pussy, very gently. Yes, there was a barrier, but only on one side. Still, it was there. And it would remain. For now.
Casey shivered as he drew his fingers along her perineum. Every part of her was sensitive and eager. He collected her fluid, drawing it up and back. He circled her tight asshole with his little finger. She arched her back, pushing her pussy onto his tongue and her ass onto his finger. Just to make sure she was asking for this he gathered fluid on his pointed finger and slowly skewed it into her. She sank back, silently asking for more.
“Oh, sugar, take what you need,” he murmured.
He rewarded her for accepting his finger to the knuckle by tugging on her pussy lips with his mouth, then flicking his tongue over her clit. When he backed off to catch his breath, he noticed hers was just as rough. This time when he probed her pussy with his tongue, she clenched around it. She twitched with every touch, making soft sounds in the back of her throat.
Was she going to have an orgasm just from this?
Marshall sent his finger just a bit deeper before dragging it almost out. At the same time he suckled her clit, flicking his tongue. She whimpered, grinding herself onto him. He was ready to explode, but Casey came first. She had a tight hold on his finger and shuddered as he pressed into her again. He slowly increased his speed, finger in and out of her ass while his mouth and tongue played with her pussy and clit.
He curled his finger back, caught her clit with his lips, and tugged.