“Mm, you’re so very nice and wet. Let’s see how you taste.”
She looked up and caught the heat shimming in Rory’s gaze as he watched their master. The sounds told her Christopher had pulled his fingers from her cunt and sucked them into his mouth.
Rory’s reaction—his tremble and the way he licked his lips—thrilled her, and for this one small moment, they were all three of them exactly where she believed they truly wanted to be.
* * * *
“Delicious.” Ambrosia. Heaven. The honey he’d been missing for four long years lay on his tongue. Christopher nearly said all those words aloud. He didn’t, of course. He couldn’t, not yet. He let his gaze linger on the thin pink welts on Daisy’s perfect ass.
He’d trembled when he’d laid that first pass down. Then the years of practice rescued him so that his touch was the lightest possible, as he’d needed it to be.
“Daisy, how do you feel?”
“I’m good, Sir. Green light.”
“Good. Here, let me help you stand.” He slid an arm around her waist, easing her upright. She gasped when she felt his hard cock brush her bottom. She didn’t stiffen in his arms, so he knew she hadn’t gasped in pain.
“Can you stand on your own?”
“Yes, thank you, Sir.”
“Good.” He kept his arm around her for just a moment longer, and found that in the four years since he’d held Daisy like this, he’d forgotten nothing about the satin of her skin, the heat of her flesh, or the glorious aroma of her arousal.
He slid his arm from her and stepped back and turned his attention on Rory. Just as the sight of Daisy aroused him, just as he longed to plunge balls deep into her, so, too, the nearness of his other lover thrilled him nearly beyond measure.
Why hadn’t he sought them out himself? Years wasted, and for what?
Pride. Stupid, foolish, useless male pride.
His gaze met Rory’s. That man stood tall and proud, his cock hard. A small drop of pre-cum glistened in the muted light coming through the windows and Christopher really didn’t know if he wanted to catch it on his own tongue or watch as Daisy did the honors.
First things first.
Christopher indicated a section of wall that divided the kitchen area from the great room. Unadorned by photographs or decoration it took up almost the same space as the smaller St. Andrew’s Cross he used to have in his apartment. “You can stand there, with your hands on the wall, your feet shoulder width apart.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He’d use a heavier hand with Rory. His lover relished a good round with the six foot every now and again.
“Unlike our Daisy, you do need to be punished. Don’t you, Rory? Tell me why. Tell me your transgressions.”
Rory snorted. “Where do I start? Yes, I let Daisy down, failing to take care of her and provide for her. But before I failed her, I failed you.”
“Because you fought me when I believed Daisy had lied to us?”
“No, Christopher. Because I didn’t fight you hard enough or long enough when you doubted her. Because I didn’t really try to convince you of her innocence, and I sure as hell didn’t fight to keep you as my lover or my master. Hell, I didn’t just fail her and you. I failed us all.”
Christopher swallowed past the lump that strained his throat. Both of his subs had proven themselves to be braver and more honorable than he. How could he do less? “Don’t imagine for one moment that you’re alone in your failure. Do you want me to punish you for these transgressions?”
“Yes, Sir. I do. Until today, I don’t think I fully understood what it was I needed more than anything. Now I do. I need this. Please, Sir. Please punish me as I deserve to be punished.”
Emotions roiled through Christopher as he took up a position that would allow him to step into each lash. He would use a harder hand, but he would not draw blood.
They’d all bled enough already.
“Count of ten, Rory.”
“Count of ten, Sir.”
Christopher centered himself and allowed only thoughts of the man receiving his lash to have his focus. Each kiss landed precisely where he willed it, his leather never stroking the same spot twice.
Rory’s voice, with each stroke, let Christopher know where he was, emotionally, and when he slid into the zone on the fifth lash, Christopher tuned his senses even more closely to the man, his breathing, and the almost imperceptible shudders of bliss cascading through him.
He knew Rory had taken no other, not as master, not as lover, in four years.
Christopher had no trouble believing it, for he’d been alone, as well. He’d been alone, and bereft, and he knew the truth that neither of his subs understood.
It hadn’t been their fault, the cleaving of their relationship.
It had been his.
Chapter 5
Daisy kept silent and still, leaving her two men to this very intimate moment.
There were aspects to the D/s dynamic that didn’t apply to her but that she respected, nonetheless. She scored very low on the “masochism” scale. She’d never needed that kind of escape, although, when she’d first come to Christopher Lyons, she had needed the release of tears.
Likely still would from time to time, as she tended to hold her emotions inside.
Daisy had never needed to crawl into that safe cubbyhole others found through pain. In fact, she’d only ever felt its presence, understood its draw once in her life, and that had been just a few minutes ago.
Her master had pulled her back.
Daisy cleared her thoughts of herself and put them on her two masters. Watching the men now, she’d be hard-pressed to know who’d been the one to take the lash, as both appeared spent, emotionally.
Christopher stood, head lowered, breaths coming in deep draughts, as if he’d run a marathon. She thought she’d seen the sheen of tears in his eyes before he closed them, before he began to reach for his control.
Rory stood perfectly still, and though he’d not climaxed, she’d bet it had been a near thing. How could these two wonderful men not understand one simple truth? No matter where they were or what they did, whether in the same physical space or not, they were connected.
They were one.
Christopher and Rory had bonded in a way she could only admire. She’d never been jealous of that, of what they had between them. Instead, she’d been floored by their generosity and undone by their acceptance when they’d made room in their union for her.
“Daisy.”
“Yes, Sir?”
“Are the items we’ll need for aftercare waiting for us in the master bedroom?”
“Yes, Sir. Both the bedroom and the master bath are fully stocked.”
“Good girl. The scene is over. We’ll go there now, so I can tend to you both.”
He recoiled the whip and set it gently on the table, next to the other toys she’d placed there. Then he took the few steps necessary to bring him to Rory, who hadn’t moved. He remained, his head bowed, and his breathing still uneven.
“Come, sweetheart. Let me take care of you. Please, grant me that privilege.”
Rory nodded, and when Christopher slid his arm around him, Rory allowed their master to help him through the great room, to the stairs.
Daisy followed them. She knew Rory was fine, physically. It was his emotions raging within keeping him off-balance and unsure.
Once they reached the bedroom she heard Rory’s cleansing breath and knew he was indeed back with them.
“On your side, Rory, in the middle of the biggest fucking bed I have ever seen in my entire life.”
Daisy grinned. It wasn’t often, she’d bet, that Christopher Lyons could be surprised.
Rory, too, gave the bed a good look. “What the hell do you call that size of a bed, anyway?”
Daisy wanted to laugh, because when Robert Jessop had toured the house with her the day before, she’d said the exact same thing to him. “I’ve been told it’s called Lusty-sized—named for the
town and her inhabitants, I believe.”
“It certainly is that.” Christopher smiled. “My God, you could easily fit four or more adults in this bed.” Then he looked at her and raised one eyebrow. “Also, I didn’t notice any landlines, neither could I get a signal on my cell phone when I tried.”
Daisy reasoned that since he was only making an observation and not asking her a direct question, she wasn’t lying when she said, “This is a vacation home that anyone who’s a member of the Lusty Town Trust is free to use. Apparently the biggest draw is being out of pocket for a time while here.”
“I can appreciate that kind of draw.” Christopher turned to Rory. “Lie down, please, on your side. I want to tend to your welts.”
Rory inhaled deeply and shook his head. “No, Chris. Daisy first.”
Christopher looked from Rory to her and then shook his head. “I have an even better idea. Don’t argue, either of you.”
Daisy’s arousal had been on a slow simmer since Christopher had positioned her to receive his lash. The scent of arousal, hers and theirs, filled the air, a musky, sensuous aroma that stoked her libido and whet her appetite.
Both men’s cocks stood straight and mouthwateringly tall, thick and potent and virile. One look in Christopher’s eyes and she knew he was as attuned to the hormones surrounding them as she.
Christopher positioned them on the bed so that they lay, head to toe, facing each other. Daisy could guess what he would demand of them, and a fine trembling overtook her. Yes, she wanted this. She wanted both of them, separate and together, in her mouth or her cunt or her ass. Anything and everything, she wanted it all.
It’s been so long since I felt whole.
“Rory, can you smell her? Our Daisy is so very wet and needy right now. Doesn’t she smell like the most delectable ambrosia ever?”
“God, yes. I love swirling my tongue along her clit and plunging it into her pussy. I love fucking her cunt with my tongue and lapping up her honey.” Rory blew a stream of air on her that felt as if it ruffled the plump flesh of her shaved mound, making her labia quiver and her clit stretch.
“Daisy, I see your eyes are riveted on Rory’s cock. Look at the tiny drop of pre-cum he has waiting just for you. Do you remember what he tastes like? So very hot, so tangy—so very Rory. Have you missed the taste of him, love?”
“Oh, yes. I love having Rory’s cock in my mouth. I love the scent of his balls and the way his cock shoots his wonderful cream down my throat.”
“I remember the tastes and the textures of you both. I remember every exciting moment we spent together in each other’s arms and in each other’s bodies. I’ll clean and medicate your welts. You take care of each other’s more basic, earthy needs. Move closer to each other. Use tongues and lips and teeth to lick and kiss, to suck and nip. Pleasure each other, and me, now.”
Christopher’s voice dropped to a deep, sensuous croon, weaving a blanket of sensuality around them all. “Nuzzle and inhale. Lap and lave. Ah, yes, Rory, I see the desire in your eyes for our woman’s cunt. Pleasure her. Pleasure yourself.”
Daisy shivered at the wondrous sensation of Rory’s tongue lapping her slit from base to clit. His hot breath bathed her, and when he set his open mouth upon her, his lips wet, his mouth drawing on her, sucking her cream from her, she moaned.
She wrapped her right hand around Rory’s cock, moving her head nearer to him even as she brought the glistening, purple bulb to her own mouth. She used her tongue to devour the droplets he’d already given her, a free sample of the feast to come. She twirled her tongue in the tiny slit on top of his cock and relished the sound of his groan. Then she opened her lips wide and took his cock deep inside her mouth, sucking him in until his cockhead brushed the back of her throat.
“God, that is so fucking hot to watch. I wish you could see how totally carnal you look together. Mm, the way Rory keeps moving his head back and forth over your delicious cunt, Daisy, tells me he loves your flavor. Ah, Rory, I can imagine the heat of Daisy’s wonderful mouth showing you a slice of heaven. Wild, wet and wonderful. You both need more, don’t you? So very much more. God, Daisy, your body feels like a furnace. Your heat is pulsing out your delicious, sexy aroma.”
Daisy gave herself over to the myriad seductions of Christopher’s deep voice as he stroked a salve on her light welts and Rory’s mouth as he drank her juices from her pussy, making her hotter and hornier than she’d been in years.
She trembled and felt Rory shaking as well. Arousal, greedy and glorious, spiraled through her, beginning the climb toward that rapturous free fall. Daisy surrendered completely to the pleasure of the moment, to the glide and the slide and the thrill of heat and velvet, of the completely carnal cravings filling her, and spilling from her.
In the periphery she took in the stroke of Christopher’s hand on Rory’s ass, the way he soothed and cared for him. All one, every sensory thrill combined. The glide of a tongue into her cunt, and the suction on her clit. The deep velvet voice, now thick with passion, and the feel and flavor of a hot cock filling her mouth, pulsing, surging. A quiver of anticipation raced through her as the balls in her hand tightened, grew hot, and signaled a juicy, tasty release.
“Come for me, both of you. Let me witness your orgasms. Come for me now.”
Training and hearts gave way and gave over, following the command of their master before minds and logic could reason. Daisy exploded into ecstasy, wave after exciting wave of pleasure swamping her. Cleansing her, making her feel new and free and loved, the orgasm permeated her, heart and mind, body and soul. Her taste buds spiced with the flavor of Rory’s ejaculation, Daisy drank and swallowed, clenched and came, her muted scream and Rory’s muffled shout more stunning than the most rousing of musical crescendos.
Satiation descended, covering her like a blanket of relief. Satisfaction settled to the music of a pulse pounding strongly and lungs struggling for breath. And yet, she knew her heart was not yet full, not yet content, because one thing, one very important thing, was missing.
Daisy looked up and encountered Christopher’s gaze, his emotions for once not hidden but open to her, and they were so full and so wide, she nearly cried out in sympathetic pain.
She held her hand out to him, her tears falling as her plea was met, even before it began, with a shaking of his head and denial in his eyes. “Christopher. Please, come here. We need you. We both need you desperately.”
“No, Daisy. I can’t. I no longer have the right, remember? I deserted you. I deserted you both.” He inhaled shakily, his voice becoming ragged, as he said, “I don’t deserve either one of you.”
Chapter 6
“That’s fucking bullshit.”
Rory rolled from the bed, every nerve in his body quivering from the combination of physical release and emotional terror stirring in his chest.
The light sting on his ass was forgotten. He looked at the only man he’d ever loved, and that terror wound around his heart with brute force and began to squeeze unmercifully.
My God, we’re not going to win. We’re going to lose him. Rory knew if they lost him again, they’d never get him back.
“It’s not bullshit, it’s the truth. I’m a fraud. A fake.”
Christopher ran his right hand through his hair, anxiety and remorse in every line. Despite being separated for four years, Rory knew him better than he knew any man, even himself.
He’d never seen his lover—his master—looking so defeated.
“No, you’re not a fraud. I’ll tell you who you are. You’re my master, and one of the two men that I love beyond all reason.”
Rory looked over at Daisy. She’d made herself comfortable, her back supported by pillows piled against the headboard, her gloriously naked body completely open to them as she sat, cross-legged, and watched them.
She’d always done this, sat and watched them, as if…as if she felt herself on the outside, looking in.
He looked at Chris to see how Daisy’s quiet, certain declaration
affected him, unsurprised when what he saw was sorrow.
“Daisy…you don’t understand, sweetheart.”
Daisy tilted her head. “Then explain it to me, please. You sit there, Rory, you sit there, Christopher,” she pointed to two spots on the bed.
Hell, the thing was certainly big enough to allow them all three to sit crossed-legged and not even touch.
Rory saw the uncertainty in his lover’s eyes, and that in itself worried him. Christopher, uncertain? No, that was Rory’s role, to be unsure, inept, and off center.
Good God, boyo, the man’s human and allowed his own imperfections, isn’t he?
Yes, he was, and maybe Rory had failed him even more profoundly than he’d ever dared realize.
Daisy’s voice pulled him back to the moment.
“You’d better sit your ass down here and talk, Mr. Lyons. I went to a hell of a lot of time and expense, not to mention bone-chilling terror to get us all right here. So you’d best start explaining, because here’s the bottom line. In order to get rid of me, you’re going to have to report me to the police. I’m going to become the most aggressive stalker-chick in history. You’ll have to get a restraining order against me, and I promise you, even that won’t work.”
Rory felt his right eyebrow go up, and he shot a look at Christopher to see how that command went over. Talk about topping from the bottom!
Christopher’s bark of laughter surprised even himself, if the look on his face was anything to go by. Then he looked at Rory. “Did you ever have an inkling she could be this bossy?”
“Can’t say that I did.” Then he tilted his head. If Daisy could give their master a bottom line, then, by damn, so could he. “It doesn’t matter, you know. Whatever shortcomings you believe you have. Whatever mistakes in judgment you think you’ve made. None of that matters to us. We love you. And maybe, just maybe—in the same way we needed your lash—you need to explain your feelings to us.” Rory could have added a codicil to that but lacked the courage.
Love Under Two Masters [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 3
