[Menage Amour: Contemporary Consensual BDSM Menage a Trois Romance, MFM, spanking, bondage, HEA.
At forty-three, Dara has given up hope of finding Mr. Right. Especially given how little free time she has in between her two jobs and book addiction. When the shipping business she’s worked at for eight years is sold to gorgeous new owners, Patrick and Samuel, Dara’s life becomes difficult in surprising ways. Neither will tolerate her stay-until-work-is-finished schedule, even if she’s not costing the business money. They have ways of ensuring she abides by their new rules. What begins as a business takeover turns into domination over all things in Dara’s world, including her body. Submitting to her desire means compromising her independence and grappling with a potential long-distance relationship that’s anything but conventional. If one man can’t penetrate her shy but determined exterior to claim her for good, perhaps two can.
“Torment can be pleasurable,” he said. “Has no one ever played with you? Denied you release until you begged and pleaded?”
Phantom hands stroked between my thighs, threatening to make me whimper as they sent heat spiraling through my body. But there were no hands, phantom or otherwise. That was my traitorous mind imagining what it would be like to have Patrick torment me.
Air. Why wasn’t I getting air during any number of gasps my labored lungs made?
I thought the answer to his question rather than speak it: No. Sex had always been missionary position and lasting only as long as it took my partner to come. I was lucky to get off at all. The few times a partner had gone down on me, I’d been more embarrassed than anything, and they’d behaved as if they’d done me a grand favor. “Play” was not the word I’d have used for any of that. More like “obligation.”
Patrick stroked my scalp without softening his grip. “Would you like to try it?”
Yes! “No,” I said.
Sweat collected on my forehead and threatened to trickle down my temple. Any second now I was going to combust and go straight to ash rather than anything as beautiful as a flame.
Patrick studied my face. The wild look that had been in his eyes slid away, revealing grim intent. I swallowed beneath his steady regard. What little moisture I generated scraped down my parched throat.
Would he see the truth? Perhaps guess that I’d lied?
And why had I lied? I did want to try it. Had wanted to ever since I’d stumbled on the first book featuring a Dom fucking his restrained sub.
Patrick released my hair. My head fell forward, limp on my neck. I held in a whimper as he drew his arms from around me and then stepped away. My skin chilled beneath my pajamas now without his body heat.
He wiggled one hand free of the leather. The belt slid along his forearm, landing in the crook. Patrick could have gotten free at any time!
“Dara, I’m sorry.”
My gaze jerked to his. Why was he apologizing? Because he’d overstepped the bounds of an employee-employer relationship? Because he’d gotten me all hot and bothered only to leave me shivering and throbbing? Or because he’d assumed I’d be into freaky sex?
“I had no right to criticize how you live your life,” he said. “For all I know you have a very healthy sex life.”
What was he talking about? I had no sex life. Unless he counted alone time in the tub with book boyfriends.
I shook my head. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m trying to apologize,” he said.
“I understand that, but I don’t understand for what.”
“I said that you don’t mix anything with pleasure. I’m sorry.”
Oh. Earlier. When he’d insulted me in the corridor. Did that mean…
Patrick leaned forward and feathered his lips along mine. The gossamer touch renewed the throbbing between my legs. This time I did press my thighs together. He withdrew a hairsbreadth away. His hot breath licked over my mouth. The teasing distance made me want to roll forward—to close that bare space.
“Please come to work tomorrow,” he said.
I stared into his bright eyes.
He broke eye contact, striding into the living room. Thoughts gushed through my brain as though they’d been held back until now.
Where was he going? Hadn’t he said he didn’t have a room tonight? Why had he pleaded with me instead of ordering me to turn up at work or made good on his threat to stay in my bed? Hadn’t Patrick growled and demanded everything since I’d met him? What was with this sudden change?
And why didn’t I like it?
Patrick squatted and fetched his shirt and coats. He pushed the white cotton beneath his armpit and tossed the darker, heavier fabric over his shoulders.
Without a glance back, Patrick opened my front door and walked out.
The combined effort of Patrick squeezing my breast, Sam flicking his tongue and fingers at the same time, and my acknowledgement that I’d never been this aroused in my life had me coming apart around them. The pulse popped inside me, releasing all at once, rolling over in searing waves. Colors burst behind my eyes as I screamed and shook. I slumped against them both, tears streaming down my face even as moisture rushed from my pussy.
Oh God. I’d literally come. At least, I hoped that was what it was.
Given Sam was there, lapping at me, moaning, “So sweet, Dara. You taste so fucking sweet,” I had to believe it.
I hissed and wiggled away from him, needing a breather. I was so sensitive. If anything so much as breathed on me, I’d likely go up in flame. Sam seemed to understand without needing to be told. Or at least, I assumed based on his pulling back.
Patrick caressed my face, wiping at my eyes until I opened them. “Okay?”
I nodded and tried to smile around his cock.
“Fuck,” he said under his breath. “Fuck, Dara. Do you have any idea—” He broke off, scraping a hand over his eyes—the one that had been in my hair for the past few minutes. “Fuck,” he said under his breath and flopped back.
He hadn’t finished. I was acutely aware of that. And aware that he was no longer in control of me. I needed him to be pleased. He didn’t look pleased now.
I sucked in my cheeks, pulling at his cock as I slid to the base of him. Peeling up my hand, I settled it beneath his sack, rolling him gently in my fingers. Patrick made a low sound somewhere between pain and pleasure.
He jerked upright, grabbing me under the armpits and hauling me forward. “I’m sorry, Sam,” he said as he deposited me onto his lap. He fumbled for something, muttering words I couldn’t understand. But I did understand when he said, “I have to fuck her. Now.”
The condom packet ripped. Patrick’s arm jostled me lightly, I assumed as he rolled the latex over himself, and then he thrust clean into my pussy before I could ask for a little bit of time. His mouth found mine, covering the hiss I’d released. My vision went black. I dug my nails into whatever I could find, his shoulders and back, and tried not to scream.
Patrick’s tongue mimicked what his cock did to my pussy, thrusting and twisting. He filled me, fighting the rapidly clenching muscles in a way no one could compare to. Patrick’s cock eased my oversensitive, aching body even as he built different aches.
I clung to his neck, absolutely adoring this voracious need of his. No one had ever made me feel the way he did—protected and so desirable that he simply couldn’t wait. No else one likely would. Even the man I could sense hovering behind me.
Patrick tore his mouth from mine, fastening it on my neck. “Dara.” Patrick groaned. “I need to be a little rough. Can I be rough?”
“Oh.” I was still extra sensitive, but I was beginning to enjoy the feel of it. “Yes.”
He growled, pushing me back. Patrick yanked the shirt over my head and immediately pulled down my bra. He leaned in, suckling my nipple exactly twice before he nibbled, increasing the pressure until I cried out. His hands fumbled behind my back at the hooks holding the elasticized fabric to me.
But someone else helped—Sam. My straps sank over my shoulders as soon as the hooks were undone. Sam pulled my arms up, drawing the straps over and off. Patrick sucked as much of my breast into his mouth as he could, and then he bounced me onto my ass, cock sliding out of me. I whimpered at the loss.
Patrick pushed at my shoulder, turning me away from him. I found myself facing a kneeling Sam. His light eyes raked over my nude body, fixing on my pussy. Hunger stamped deep lines between his eyes.
Patrick picked up one of my thighs, creating space for his knee but more importantly, creating an opening for his cock. Cool air rushed over my pussy in the moment before his cock pressed into my core. Gently at first, he stretched into me, sliding deeper than he’d ever been. Patrick felt monstrous, and yet there were still parts of me he didn’t seem to reach.
He clamped a hand over my chest, pulling out slowly. And then the roughness began. Patrick slammed his cock into me, startling a gasp past my lips. Out he jerked only to drive in again. Over and over he fucked me, grunting and slapping his body against mine harder than I’d come to expect.
This was how I’d thought Patrick Thorburn would fuck a woman. This was what he’d been holding back. And God help me, I never wanted him to hold back again.
“Patrick,” I shouted, needing him to know this was okay. That this was perfect. “Oh fuck. Oh, yes.”
His grip tightened around me and he began whispering in my ear. “Dara, fuck. I need you. I need you to need me. Do you need me?”
“Yes.” The word came out as a gulp as he drove his cock ruthlessly inside my pussy.
“I need this. Fuck.” Patrick dropped a hand to my mound, sliding into my pussy folds. “Your mouth on my cock.” Slicking his fingers in my arousal, he stroked until he found the hard, throbbing clit.
I clamped my hand onto his arm, trying to stop him from making me go insane.
“You…smiling,” he said, swirling gently. “Fuck. You’re amazing. Tell me you know that.”
I didn’t know that, but now wasn’t the time to argue. “I…kn-know that.” Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes, from the myriad sensations I couldn’t hold back and from his sweet words.