Two Sirs, with Love (MMF)

McQueen Was My Valley 4

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 54,095
6 Ratings (4.5)

[Siren Ménage Everlasting: Erotic Consensual BDSM Ménage a Trois Romance, M/M/F, voyeurism, food play, whipping, spanking, HEA]

Felicity McQueen isn’t supposed to mention her past managing a European BDSM club when she arrives at her sister’s Triple Play Lodge in Utah. Ian Lawson is a mild-mannered accountant, and the highlight of his year is extending a tax deadline. He longs to bust out in a wild adventure.

When Ian sets eyes on the tigress Mistress Felicity, he knows she’s the one who can fulfill his most forbidden fantasies. But Dr. Victor Reznik has the same ideas. He’s in town to nab a sicko transporting illegal exotic animals, and the three band up in an undercover sting.

With Felicity’s pleasure chest of toys, she instructs the innocent men in the bondage arts. The men become play partners to satisfy Felicity—and themselves. Will they learn to play nicely, or will they throw down their toys and go home once the smuggler is caught? Felicity learns that having two Sirs is better than one.

Note: Each book in the McQueen Was My Valley series is stand-alone and can be read in any order.

A Siren Erotic Romance


Karen Mercury is a Siren-exclusive author.

Two Sirs, with Love (MMF)
6 Ratings (4.5)

Two Sirs, with Love (MMF)

McQueen Was My Valley 4

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 54,095
6 Ratings (4.5)
In Bookshelf
In Cart
In Wish List
Available formats
Cover Art by Les Byerley
I love this series! I believe this one was my favorite so far out of the whole series.. looking forward to reading the next book.
Barefoot Okie



“Speaking of,” said Ian. “Did your father give you any more grief about your activities at the Fett Axel in Stockholm?”

Felicity fiddled with her fingers in her lap. “Yes, he gave me grief, all right. I think he’s been very successful in convincing me to give up the lifestyle.”

“What?” Ian leaned closer to her and put his hand over hers. “You can’t let a man suffering from dementia alter your life so radically, Felicity! Hasn’t he also been known to put his pajama pants on over his trousers, put his wristwatch into the fridge, and accuse his therapist of being Jimmy Carter?”

A laugh forced its way through Felicity’s sorrow. “That’s true. He did think his shrink was the former president, there to force him to build a house for Habitat for Humanity.”

Ian said, “See? So you’re going to listen to him when he begs you to give up your life?”

“Okay, then! If you really don’t want me staying in Utah, I’ll return to Stockholm!”

Victor stepped closer. “Actually, I agree with Ian, not for the reasons you think. Ian can’t stay in Utah either, for obvious reasons, and I’m going to have to go back to the Salt Lake office when I’m done with the current assignment. But Felicity, he’s right. You can’t allow a man to dictate your life who thinks he has to attend the Camp David accords to get the Sunnis and the Shiites together.”

“Oh, yes,” Felicity agreed warmly. “He thinks they just need to have an honest dialogue.”

Victor sat on the couch’s arm. “See? And you’re going to let this peanut farmer convince you to start an entirely new career?”

“Well.” Felicity seemed to blush. “I know he’s said and done some dubious things in recent years, but he was pretty lucid when we Skyped. And his reasons for begging me to change my life were not because I’ve been immoral or corrupt, but because he doesn’t see much future in the Dominatrix field.”

Ian nodded. “I can see his point of view. You need to do something more forgiving in terms of aging.” Swiftly he added, “Not that you won’t age gracefully. But one must be practical.”

Felicity squeezed Ian’s hand. “No offense taken, sweetie. I agree with my father. I’m working on it with my sisters as to what I could possibly do out here. It would be nice to be around them again, especially since they seem as though they’ve all turned out to be wonderful, caring people.” She sighed deeply and stared off distantly. “I know I’ve been running from myself since my husband’s death. I do feel that I’m no more Mistress Klara than I am Where’s Waldo or Marge Simpson. Although I do have hair like Marge, if I pile it high enough.”

Ian squeezed her hand too. “I’m sure your talents for running a club will translate well into running some aspect of the lodge. And speaking of talents. We need you to help—”

“Oh! That reminds me.” Felicity stood and picked up her coat. She rifled through the pockets. “I wanted to give you something, Ian, to symbolize our relationship. Something for you to remember me by.”

Ian waved her away. “Oh, don’t be such a sappy twit, Felicity. I don’t need a gift from you to remember you. Here’s a deal. If you stay at the lodge, I’ll come visit you here. You can torture my cock and balls any time.”

“No, seriously. Here.”

Ian took the black leather...cock ring? “Where did you find such a thing around here?”

Felicity took her seat next to Ian and plucked the cock ring from his fingers. “I had my manager in Stockholm express me some things I thought I might need, and I thought of this. Here.” With relief he saw it wasn’t a cock ring but a wrist cuff, a bracelet. “This is to reward you for being such a good slave. It designates you as my play partner.” Wrapping it around his wrist, she pressed the snaps together with a sound of finality.

Ian looked at Victor, feeling smug. She hadn’t given Victor any such sign of ownership. “I belong to Felicity,” he sniffed. He dared to kiss her for the first time, and her lips were pliant and soft. They smacked at each other’s mouths with genuine love. Ian’s chest swelled with emotion as he held her birdlike shoulders in his hands and inhaled her honeyed scent.

They withdrew a few inches, smiling stupidly at each other. Ian didn’t see her as Mistress Klara anymore. She seemed to be becoming more comfortable as Mistress Felicity.




His mouth curled sensuously. This whole Iron Man thing was working very well for him. He probably had women coming out his ears, being a famous biologist who traveled the globe giving knowledgeable speeches to esteemed societies. “You’re a sultry tigress,” he said with wonder. She squirmed, not knowing if this was a good thing or a bad thing. Then he dove back into her cleavage.

Popping a breast from its casing, Victor nibbled and worried the erect nipple. Felicity hadn’t experienced this sensation in months, years perhaps. Once in a while bound fellows got loose and ran amok, and that was probably the last time anyone had nuzzled at her breast. She gasped loudly with the shock of it. He supped at her nipple like a frisky puppy until she could stand it no more. He squeezed her tit at the base and popped it into his mouth, laving the entire tip with the flat of his tongue.

Felicity squealed, truly unprepared for such an assault. She was fairly well schooled in casual modes of self-defense, so it was almost automatic for her to bring her leg up and knee him in the balls. He sucked in air and paused in his gurgling, but she hadn’t kneed him that horribly, and he went right back to his feast. This time he released the other tit from its bondage. He nursed that one enthusiastically, nibbling and sucking, before burying his face between them and applying one enormous lick to the valley there.

Felicity’s pussy was trickling juice into her ass crack, he was making her that hot. She humped his hip bone while shimmying her shoulders, the better to wriggle his face into her bosom. But her words told him a different story. “You rat bastard. How dare you take advantage of me? Just because almost all women are naturally weaker than most men, you use your strength to control me. Do you like taking advantage of women who don’t want you?” Again she grabbed a handful of his tie that now hung from his neck like a noose after their tussling. She was a strong woman, having not much else to do in her downtime in Stockholm but work out and lift weights, and she snapped his head back to attention. He looked even more handsome, if such a thing was possible, with his thick dark hair all in disarray. “Do you hear me, you bastard?”

Victor only grinned again! He said smoothly, “Do you really expect me to believe you’re not enjoying this? You’ve got a spectacular rack, Mistress, in case you weren’t aware.” Even more impudently, he slid his palm over the rise of her boob and diddled her nipple between thumb and forefinger. Here he was practically dangling from the noose she’d made of his tie, still arrogant enough to toy with her like that!

She yanked him with the tie, her other hand shoving his chest. He stumbled back, giving her enough room to leap to her feet. Her bared tits swayed, buoyed up by the bra’s underwire cage. In the towering beige heels and slim slacks with tendrils of her flaming red hair coming undone from her bun, she knew she was the picture of the vivacious Amazon. In the flashing of a few fingers, his tie was undone, limp in her hand.

She growled, “You think you’re the first man who has come along and thought he could best me? You’d be amazed how many men have that fantasy. ‘Oh, I’ll overpower the big, redheaded Domme, and’—hey!

The next thing Felicity knew, the tie was in Victor’s hand. He twirled her around while simultaneously gripping both her wrists together in the small of her back. Maybe because it was so unexpected, Felicity allowed herself to be handled like a blow-up doll. She came to her senses, but not in time to wrench her hand from the knot Victor swiftly tied with the zeal of a Boy Scout.

“You pig!” she shrieked. “We haven’t talked—we have no safe word—we have no mutual agreement at all! How dare you bind me without my consent?”

The heated slab of his body pressed against her back. He rattled her by the wrists, ensuring his knot was solid. “Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose? It’s called bondage and discipline for a reason. You forget, Mistress. I’m experienced in tying women up.”

“How dare you—”

With only a slight shove, Victor was able to topple her face first onto one of the beds.

His voice was breezily cheerful as he stood between her feet, removing first one strappy heel and then the other. “Yes, some women underestimate me because I’m an animal biologist who hangs out in the savannah with the hyenas and baboons. But I tell you, Mistress—there hasn’t been a tigress yet that I couldn’t conquer. And definitely not one as regal as you.”

Felicity wailed, “We don’t play this way in Stockholm! No one tries to take unfair advantage of the other!”

Kneeling between her outspread thighs, Victor slid his hands between her waist and the mattress. He undid the button and zipper like a magician—they parted like butter at his touch. “There’s one thing you’re forgetting, Mistress.” With one yank, he’d bared her generous white butt to the ceiling. She squirmed like someone in a sack race, but her wriggling probably only made Victor randier. He slapped her ass, cupping his palm like an experienced Dom, knowing it would sound louder that way. Felicity gasped, but relished the warm tingling spread of forbidden pleasure, and wished he would spank her again. “I know that you like this treatment.”


Read more